Tumgik
#this was too long for the reply box LMAO
liesmyth · 1 year
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@lemoncupcake​ OK SO. We don’t know the date, but IMO it’s either summer 2016 or summer 2017.
We know that his last England match was in summer 2016, at the Euros. We also know (from 3.02) that his departure came as a shocker to the club and the press, that Roy decided to leave because he had realised he couldn’t keep up even if it wasn’t obvious to others yet, and that it was a few months between that realisation and when he actually left.
I’m more inclined to say 2016-2017 was his last season just because I’m not sure if he would have stayed with the England team if he had been in a state of mind where he thought he wasn’t “good enough” anymore. And after the Euros, getting dropped from the new post-2016 Southgate national team might have contributed to his "I can’t keep up” realisation.
BUT. Maybe 2015-2016 was his last season and he felt like he had to stay at least through the Euros because he was one of the staples of the team by then, and then it ended in a disastrous loss.
For what it’s worth, Chelsea won the League title in 2017, so if you want to take that into account it could be played either way. On the one hand, I think it would have been less of a shock than leaving in 2016 —  a beloved long-serving captain moving on after a successful season, quitting while he’s very much ahead kind of makes sense? But I can also see how that would have shocked the fans especially if the club had made clear they wanted to retain him.
But also if he’d left in 2017 you could have the angst of 1) leading his longtime club to a trophy he feels like kind of a fraud for lifting and 2) moving to Richmond (still west london) when he could probably have gone anywhere, and having to constantly fail to measure up to his own legacy.
EDIT: @scoatneyhall​ ty for the reminder! There’s a video on twitter that puts Roy at Richmond in 2017. I choose to ignore its existence bc it’s blatantly A Bit and I don't think much thought went into it if anything at all. So I'll just keep schrodingering it and going with whichever of these 2 is more juicy TO ME for whatever fic I’m writing but there you have it @lemoncupcake​ there are semi canon sources putting Roy at Richmond in 2017
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hayaku14 · 3 days
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hello why is kaishin more popular than shinkai or what i mean is why bottom shinichi is like the most widely believed one? lol not really in the fandom just vaguely familiar with the anime from childhood it's just my mutuals likes this ship. i'd thought shinichi being the top would be more popular given his personality.
anon sorry for the late answer!!
imma be real honest with you, anon, i've loved the kidco dynamic since i was conan-sized but i only realized kaishin should be making out around 2021 so i don't know if i'm the best person to answer this question LOL BUT, i'll give you an answer!
tbh, i think for fandom shipping in general, the main character more often than not is the chosen bottom and whoever else is the other party is topping them. in japanese media especially, the ship names are mostly born from putting the kanji of their names together wherein the order of which indicates the seme and uke. since this happens early on, we kinda get stuck with that as the popular ship name whether you prefer the other way later on.
perhaps kaishin is more popular but not entirely by a lot compared to other ships where it's completely skewed to one side. i see a lot of shinkai too. ofc there are people who prefer one way over the other exclusively and that's completely fine!
personally, i think confining them into seme and uke or top and bottom does a great disservice to the kaishin dynamic because to me we should be looking at their sub-dom dynamic more and why they're actually peak switch sub and dom!!!!
that's fucking right kaishin is actually peak switch and i will die on this fucking hill!!!!!!!!!!
when you say shinichi would be the "obvious top," i'd like to assume in your heart you actually meant "the obvious dom" (LOL) but i think that could also apply to kaito.
i think the appeal of kaishin is the push and pull between them. the give and take. they're always trying to one-up each other. sometimes one pushes and the other gives way, sometimes it's the other way around.
i will be honest, perhaps switch pairings might just be my preference but I have never encountered a pairing that felt this completely equal in the switch department more than kaishin. like for other ships i'd sometimes be like, "yeah they switch but A is 70% more dom than B." But for kaishin I'm like, "oKAY THEY'RE 50/50 THEY'RE EQUALS THEY'RE PERFECT HALVES RAAAAAHHHH"
now how does this answer your question? well, i have no proof and im going off of vibes and like i said im no veteran in this ship fandom but, i think a lot of people do enjoy the other way around as you think it would've been. it's just that...it's something that can just be filed under the kaishin tag too. because it's basically the same sometimes. the only different thing is who's topping and bottoming. like sometimes i'm scrolling through twitter and i'd see art that's giving shinkai but it's tagged as kaishin and vice versa lol.
also personally i prefer calling them kaishin because i love the letter k and i associate the name shinkai more with makoto shinkai so every time i see people refer to kaishin as shinkai, my mind just conjures up an image of kaito, shinichi, and makoto shinkai together and i know that's fucking hilariously weird but it sometimes happens!!!! LMAO so even if i'm thinking about shinkai stuff, i still prefer using the name kaishin lol.
(but having the kaishin/shinkai distinction is definitely still useful especially for people who want to filter through one way or the other so fuck yeah to the ship name shinkai you're here to stay!!!)
anyway in conclusion, top shinichi is popular too dw lol, or maybe i should say bottom kaito is popular too lol i see yalls
also sorry that this answer is not only late but also a whole essay that doesn't even straightforwardly answer your question lol my bad anon
#replies#dc prattles#anon if you're out there.....im sorry this is late af lol it was hard to gather my thoughts#ALSO KAISHIN PEAK SWITCH BABEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY#also didnt mean to dunk on seme uke and top bottom but like im tireeeeed of it!!!!! like yeah it's fun dont get me wrong and sometimes it's#easier to just put characters into easy boxes like these#but!!!!!!!!!!!!#kaishin is much too complex for that!!!!!!!!!!!!!#their very appeal is how they're both opposites but similar!!!!#they are not a linear contrast they are a juxtaposition in a loop!!!!!! i love them too much to not explore their nuances and intricacies!!#also i wanted to say another thing about the main character being the bottom frequently but i have no facts to back it up just vibes LOL#but i think since main characters are mostly designed for us to like them#we do end up liking them so much so that we just want to sometimes hug and comfort them#and idk i feel like being taken care of and comforted is mostly associated with people who bottom#(which btw i rly think sometimes people mean sub when they say bottom lol)#ANYWAYS i have no proof of that tho just vibes so take it with a grain of salt#also anon.....when you ask why the majority prefers a specific character to bottom.....sometimes there's no deep reason ngl like#sometimes they just want their faves to get fucked and that's okay too LMAO#btw guys i do enjoy shinkai i just like calling it kaishin anyways lmaooooo im sorry i know im ruining the archiving of kaishin but i just!#makoto shinkai existed in my mind before gay thief and detective kissing each other im sorry!!!!!!#5cm per second destroyed me okay!!!!!!#yeah also im not tagging this with ksn/snk i dont want to be perceived that much by people who will disagree lol i said i'd fight yall#for peak switch kaishin but like who tf cares honestly as long ur having fun with whatever version of kaishin you want kaishin to be then#you're good to go#anon
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netscapenavigaytor · 1 year
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list of possible netscapenavigaytor tags:
something kind of insane and only tangentially relevant
talking about fictional character
hopefully genuinely thoughtful insight and commentary to the post at hand
deeply baring my soul for the whole fucking world to see
"this is so fucking swag awesomesauce badass"
#error 0#honestly i dont think i could ever totally click with any social media type site that doesnt let me make tons of commentary#without it getting in the way of others' blogging#i have so many thoughts! i have so many things to say!#i dont know how anyone can just silently reblog posts; are there no words in your head or do you prefer to keep them to oneself?#i dont say this as a statement of judgement of course becasue everyone lives the ultimate bloging their own way#but i cant imagine being given what is basically a free ''put commentary that doesnt interrupt the post'' box on every post#and then NOT using it constantly all the time#of course there are pros and cons to this - it is nice to have a diary of my thoughts but also at the same time#many things i say are a tad embarrassing to look back on.#but i would rather they continue to exist. i deleted too much of the picture of myself when i was much younger and i regret it dearly#but i promised to myself i wont obliterate the me i was in the past anymore. even if i say something embarassing#oh look here it is again - me talking too long tangentially related baring my soul in the tags#i like to spin around and talk in public to no one in particular in a place where no reply is necessarily Expected!#where i will be perceived but no other expectations exist. i get shy about it sometimes but#there's a sort of joy i get out of just logging my thoughts and feelings into this silly little blog!#and while i suppose it does not matter too much if it doesnt since i do this for myself#i do hope my rambles bring some small joy or entertainment to my followers#i mean i certainly must imagine the tags must be what you follow me for if ur not one of my personal friends LMAO#given how themeless and arbitrary this blog is#actually im curious now - if you read this far and youre not following me Just because we're friends#then what DO you follow me for? very interested to know#ok i need to go eat something i post this now and stop talking until i eat.
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volleychumps · 3 months
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When He's your Rival (w/ Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kuroo, and Atsumu) x Fem! reader
enemies to lovers but someone mistakes rivalry with feelings LMAO
Warning(s): cursing! some unwanted touches by an asshole in Oikawa's part, crying- Y/N's a little crybaby sometimes LOL
Tsukishima Kei
"Take a look and cry, four-eyes."
"Go back to fifth grade, I'm begging."
Smirking at his snarky comment, Tsukishima finds the energy to lazily lift his head off the desk, staring blankly at the red 97 inked on the corner of your paper, complete with a messily scrawled circle and a smiley face.
You always were a teacher's pet.
"Nice." The blonde yawns, going to put his head back down. "I scored a 99 though. Guess having four eyes really helps."
He can't stop the satisfied twitch tickling his lips as he buries his head a little further into his crossed arms, the sound of your groan of annoyance music to his ears as you crumple your test paper in your fist.
"This isn't over, Tsukki. I studied all night for this!"
"Don't call me that." He lifts his head to scowl at you as you haughtily spin on your heel, determination in your steps and a gloomy cloud over your head over the loss as he calls after you. "Not my fault you're obsessed with me."
You do a 360, pouting all the while as Tsukishima eyes you evenly, amusement twinkling momentarily in his eyes as he watches you grow flustered.
"I am not! Don't get it twisted, Tsukki- the only thing I'm obsessed with beating your sorry ass!" You crumple up your test paper further, fuming as you leave it on his desk in a childish manner.
"Why is my ass sorry when you're the one who lost?"
Yamaguchi watches on with a sigh, Tsukishima watching you storm off with a little bit more than amusement in his eyes before turning to his childhood friend.
"You feed into this way too much, Tsukki. Y/N is nothing but sweet, why do you bring out the worst in her?"
The tall blonde hums, his hand supporting his right cheek. "It's because she's just so fun to talk to."
Yamaguchi shivers at the cynical tone his childhood friend had taken on, wondering why this childish rivalry between the two of you had been stretched for as long as it was.
"We've known each other since we were kids, Tsukki. Y/N's parents used to joke about you guys marrying each other because you hated each other so bad."
"I don't hate her." Tsukishima's reply is immediate, moving to shift his headphones back onto his ears. "The brat knows I'd take care of her if it came down to it, so quit you're worrying, Yamaguchi."
Yamaguchi's expression shifts to one of surprise, but Tsukishima's already distracted, eyeing your crumpled up test before dropping into his bag.
Nothing wrong with taking a trophy, right?
A couple weeks later, you're holding your breath as your eyes scan the top 100 scores in the school during late-study hours, the halls nearly barren, willing your name to be above a certain blonde hair middle blocker before visibly wilting.
"Ah, look." You groan, the utterly amused voice you're not wishing to hear at this moment sounding in your ears as Tsukishima smirks down at you, finger prodding at the box marked Tsukishima Kei before pretending like he's looking for your name.
Not one, but two names down from his.
"Looks like someone didn't study-"
Tsukishima cuts himself off at the sight of your eyes filling up with frustrated tears, not expecting the sight before him to make his chest heavy.
You were always so dramatic.
"Tsukki, you win this time." You sniffle, wiping your eyes haughtily as he looks at the eye bags under your eyes, growing annoyed all of a sudden- even more iriate when he can't figure out why.
He knows this, but why is this effecting him so much?
"Oi." His voice is quiet with an agitated edge, putting a hand on your shoulder to lean you up against the wall. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You're so stupid- crying over something as meaningless as beating me."
Your cheeks puff up at his blatant remarks, his chest tingling before you take a deep breath before knocking your forehead against his, taking the blonde boy by surprise as he glares down at you, rubbing his nose.
"What the hell-"
"I just want to be your equal, you always treat me like I'm such childish brat." You tell him, mixed feelings in your throat as Tsukishima takes on a look of bewilderment. "Ever since we were kids-"
"So you just want my attention, is that it?" Tsukishima's smirking now, the pain in his nose unnoticeable as your expression stiffens, a hint of realization in your eyes as the blonde's throat suddenly grows tight.
"What-"
"Little Y/N, do you have feelings for me?"
"You're not that much older-!"
"Don't avoid the question, brat." Tsukishima's even closer now, hand touching the wall by your waist as your eyes dart all over the hallway. "Is this what all this rivalry is about? Why you care so much about proving-"
"And what if I do?" Your voice quivers for a second, Tsukishima's lips shutting tight at your words before frustrated tears grow in your eyes again. As if realizing what you said, your eyes grow wide with embarrassment- shoving him away before taking off down the hall.
The tall blonde stands there for a second, soaking in the last few minutes before touching the back of his neck, the tips of his ears reddening before sighing deeply.
He rolls his eyes before smirking a little, your confused expression flashing in his mind once more as he wonders what will become of your one-sided rivalry.
Fuck a trophy. He wants to see you make that face again.
Oikawa Tooru
"Tooru, you wanna fight me so bad."
"Just because I want to doesn't mean I will, Y/N-chan. You'll probably lose."
Iwaizumi barks out a laugh as your glare evenly matches Oikawa Tooru's, lightning flashing between the two of you as the brunette crosses his arms with a frown. He almost thinks it's fate- the two of you ending up in the same class seated next to each other with Oikawa by the window.
"The fact that you said probably instead of definitely means we both know Y/N would win in a fight."
"Stay out of this, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa doesn't break eye contact with you, growing more irriated at the sweet smile that overtakes your lips.
"Tooru, I'll start telling people your hair isn't natural in color~" You start doodling on your notes nonchalantly, amused at the popular boy's growth in irritation.
"You wouldn't dare." Oikawa pales at the obvious lie, knowing your effect- how your words would send ripples through the school by the end of the day.
That's right, ever since you transferred schools and gained popularity as the most sought-out girl at Aoba Joshai and had made a passing comment (you didn't really think about it) about how you had no idea who Oikawa Tooru was and didn't really care- the school's popular setter has had it out for you.
Iwaizumi had a huge kick out of it though, satisfied seeing his friend being put in place by the one girl he couldn't really have. You grin cheekily, batting your eyelashes innocently as Oikawa meets it with a pouty stare.
"Why do you care so much of what I think of you?"
"I don't."
"Then piss off." You close your eyes with sugar-laced words, causing Iwaizumi to turn around with a shaking back.
"Iwa-chan, stop laughing!" Oikawa whines, turning his attention back to you with a haughty remark to discover you had stood up and skipped off towards the exit of the classroom.
"She's got me. I'm her fan- I see the hype."
"Iwa-chan, you're supposed to be on my side!"
"Y/N didn't know who you were- big whoop." Matsukawa yawns, leaning back in his seat from in front of Iwaizumi. "Not everyone cares about volleyball."
"And she was new." Hanamaki adds, shrugging his shoulders at the look of betrayal his brunette-friend had sent him. "I'm just saying- maybe your anger is misplaced?"
"Oikawa has a crush~"
"Mattsun- I almost threw up, please." Oikawa sighs, spinning around in his seat with a newfound exhaustion. He looks out the window, eyebrow twitching when he sees you bowed deep in apology to some poor student who was obviously amidst confession. His defined chin touches his palm in thought as anger swirls in his stomach.
How he despises you so.
You were so annoyingly pretty. It was ticking him off, how you spoke so nicely to his three provoking friends yet would barely muster up a smile at him unless it was sarcastic. Oikawa observed as you messily brushed your hair back with your hands to focus on your work, growing even more annoyed when he discovered how much you cared about school.
It was all because he didn't like you, that's why he paid so much attention.
..right?
He's sipping from a can of orange juice, having ducked away from his fanclub to turn a corner of the school no one really frequents when he sees you again later that week.
"Y/N- you always act like you're too good for anybody."
The tall brunette stops at the corner, peering around it while remaining out of sight.
"Maybe I just don't like guys who pressure girls into dating them." You don't miss a beat- but Oikawa hears it, the tinge at the edge of your voice.
Fear.
Some nobody who Oikawa doesn't even know the name of clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist roughly as you stare down at his strong clasp on you.
"Let me go, you fucking loser." You're pissed off now, smiling your signature grin- the one with no real sweetness behind it. You were afraid to have followed this dangerous guy to an empty part of the school- thinking one of your fellow students would never do this sort of thing.
You were so wrong. His grip tightens as you try to fling his hand off in frustration.
"Pretty Y/N-chan. I'll ruin that face of yours and beat that attitude-"
"Someone isn't taking rejection very well."
You blink in wild surprise as your back touches Oikawa's chest abruptly, his strong grip on the student's wrist as he yanks him off. You don't see him, but you don't have to turn around to know that Oikawa was pissed.
"Get your pretty boy toy out of here, slut." You wince at the insult slightly when the guy doesn't even look at Oikawa, still glaring down at you before Oikawa tugs you gently behind him, towering over the absolute nobody who dared to put a hand on you.
"You shitty coward." You look up at Oikawa's broad back and shoulders, anxiety draining out of your system as Oikawa keeps a firm grip on your hand. He squeezes your hand once, and you get the message.
You're okay.
"Getting physical with girls now, are we? Someone doesn't want to have a future." Oikawa mocks, tilting his head to the side menancingly with a smug grin on his face. "You know what pisses me off the most? When people don't acknowledge my existence."
You've never seen this side of him before.
Suddenly, Oikawa side steps, both arms reaching out to keep you behind him as his grin widens. You cover your mouth at the sight of the student having failed to land a punch on the setter's jaw.
"You attacked me, right?" Oikawa hands you his bag, jaw clenching before easily grabbing the guy's collar, the height difference making him pathetically dangle slightly off the floor. You gasp when his eyes take on a darker edge, delivering a hook of his own to the side of his face, not seeming to hold much back as Oikawa momentarily wonders just what was fueling all this anger.
"What's going on here?! Oikawa Tooru, let him go!"
When he drops him to the floor on command, you're looking at him differently.
Maybe you should've cared a bit more about just who Oikawa Tooru was.
You're still staring when he ignores the teacher, your wrist in his hand as he inspects it, asking you something- but you don't hear him, feeling an unknown swirl in your stomach.
And why the hell he was making you feel something you've never felt before.
Kuroo Tetsurou
"Kuroo, get over it."
"Don't roll your pretty eyes at me, kitten."
You huff, not even bothering to look up at the raven-haired captain as you check another tally on your clipboard. Another successful receive for Lev.
"How do you do it?"
"Kuroo, we've been over this-"
"Blah blah blah."
The interruption ticks you off, prompting you to finally look up from your work as Kuroo Tetsurou smirks down at you easily.
"It's not my fault they like me so much."
"They can't like you more than me! I'm the captain!"
"Someone's insecure."
It's Kuroo's turn to grow irritated at your remark, and you smirk successfully as Kenma sighs at the sight of you two from across the court. Yamamoto sweat drops, bouncing a volleyball off the wall as you and Kuroo begin bickering. You were annoyed as the taller captain grinned easily down at you.
"Why does Kuroo-san hate Y/N so much?"
"No idea. She makes me cookies when I listen well during practice!" Lev adds brightly. "If anything, Kuroo's the villain."
"Nah." Kenma doesn't look up from his game, thankful you're keeping his childhood friend occupied so he can't make him practice. "Kuroo doesn't hate her."
The surrounding members still, eyeing the short boy weirdly as the volume of you two bickering rises in the background.
"He definitely bothers her because it's fun." Kenma flicks his joystick, suddenly immersed in the level as it grows more interesting. "I wouldn't be surprised if he likes her."
Kenma's just speaking his mind at this point, but his fellow teammates don't believe him as Kuroo flicks your forehead, breaking off in a run as you chase him out of the gym in irritation.
"Yeah. Sure."
--
"Okay everyone," you begin, fiddling with your papers as the volleyball team sit in a circle with their knees tucked into their chest, hanging on to your every word as you try not to smile at how well-behaved they were. "Nekomata-sensei is out today, and he left instructions-"
"We'll be practicing in 3-on-3's."
You hold back a groan as Kuroo cuts you off, standing up easily as the tension between the two of you rises. He cocks his head to the side like what? with a growing smirk on his handsome features, causing your irritation to grow further. To annoy you on the sidelines of practice was one thing, but to disrupt you in front of the team is another.
"Anyways, like I was saying-"
"Shouldn't the captain know what's best for his team?"
Oh you hated being cut off.
You meet him with an even stare, trying not to let your temper get the best out of you.
"Kuroo-"
"Call me Tetsurou, Y/N-chan."
Kenma sighs when the lead of your mechanical pencil breaks against the clipboard, knowing Kuroo was pushing limits he hadn't before.
"Alright, Tetsurou." Your voice is venomous, shoving the clipboard with their coach's instructions into Kuroo's hands with an aggression you were having trouble controlling. You were so mad you began to see your vision get blurry, suddenly exhausted from the captain's antics and why he wouldn't leave you alone.
"You lead practice then." Kuroo's easy smirk grows into a worried stare at the sight, watching you storm off before he can get another word out.
"Boo, you made our manager cry."
"This is why you'll die alone."
"Y/N for president!"
But Kuroo isn't listening to the obvious slander from his teammates, putting the clipboard down before jogging off after you, Kenma rolling his eyes to unzip his gym bag for his switch.
"He flirts like a little school boy."
The raven-haired third year catches you in the halls, frustrated with yourself as your back touches the shoe lockers behind you. You didn't mean to overreact. It was something about him that made you so-
"I'm sorry, Y/N."
"Don't apologize." You grumble, looking straight on ahead before glancing upwards. Kuroo awkwardly takes a seat next to you, the sound of after-school activities filling the air in your silence.
"Do you hate me or something?"
Kuroo blinks once, guilt filling his chest at the ideas in your head before hanging his head with a heavy sigh. It seems he took his antics a bit too far.
"Y/N, you're just fun to tease." He drops the nickname, and you smile a bit knowing he's serious. "I don't mean to make you upset. The team loves you, and I..."
He trails off, causing you to cock an eyebrow. Kuroo looks away quickly, clearing his throat before looking back at you-
to see you genuinely smiling at him, his chest suddenly tight.
"That's a relief. You're too much sometimes, but I can't say I don't enjoy our conversations. I didn't mean to over-react-" You cut yourself off, suddenly worried as you raise a hand to his forehead. "Wow, you're suddenly flushed. Are you sick, Tetsurou?"
He grows a shade darker when your sweet voice calls his first name, seeming to short-circuit in front of you as question marks seem to appear by your face.
Meanwhile, the team shushes each other as they peer around the corner of the hallway, Yamamoto and Lev's mouth agape as a certain gamer merely shrugs.
"Told you so."
"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Kenma."
Atsumu Miya
"'Samu, tell me I'm better than her."
"I'm not lyin' to ya', twin or not."
Almost immediately, the blonde setter glares at his own flesh and blood, Osamu offering a slight smirk in response at his brother's irritation. Atsumu sinks lower in his seat, pouting as Suna rolls his eyes to the right of him.
"Can't believe I'm spending my precious free time to watch more volleyball."
Atsumu isn't listening to his friend, silently focused at the way you controlled the court, triumphant grin on your face as you score the winning point to take the first set. In fact, you had scored over half the points, the other team's blockers barely standing a chance. He had to come see it. All the buzz around school can't have been for nothing.
Y/N L/N. Volleyball prodigy that seemed to have come out of thin air.
Osamu whistles lowly. "Y/N's kinda like you."
"Don't insult me, 'Samu." But Atsumu knows he doesn't mean it. Suna glances at his friend once, sipping his drink casually as Atsumu gets a glint in his eye, fire seeming to erupt in the back around him.
"Oho, Atsumu's got a rival." Suna isn't too interested, merely observing his surroundings as Osamu coughs back a chuckle.
"Shuddup." Atsumu mumbles, eyes meeting yours as you look up at the stands to see just who was burning holes into your head. He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips when you cockily blow a kiss in his direction.
"Y/N...that's Atsumu Miya, you do know he goes to our school, right?"
"Oh...shit." You back down, suddenly embarrassed as you look away, Atsumu's eyes spinning with amusement and eagerness to one-up you, the cheers of the stadium mocking in his ears.
So low in behold, you try not to let the surprise etch onto your features when Atsumu is pointing a finger at you, having escaped the boy's gym to crash your practice when after-school activities come around.
"You." You blink, utterly confused as your teammates squeal in excitement at his presence. "Yer' practicin' with me, got that?"
Your jaw slackens at the audacity, wondering if he wanted to practice or if he wanted to prove something. Atsumu knew he had the right idea about you when you take a step forward, tilting your head in challenge.
"Think you can keep up?"
--
"Oi, stop harassing Y/N at the girl's gym and practice with your team." Aran puts emphasis on his words as Osamu snickers from behind him, watching his twin get scolded as Kita sighs.
"She is very good at what she does." The captain nods. "But that doesn't mean our paths have to cross with the girls'- in fact, they never should."
"Then let her play here." Atsumu doesn't care if he doesn't make any sense. "Y/N runs circles around her team anyways- hell, she's pullin' the whole team on her back."
The Inarizaki team resist the urge to roll their eyes at their setter's blatant slander. Osamu is amused, tying up the net as he attempts to tame his twin.
"She runs circles 'round you, that's for sure."
Suna stifles a laugh as Atsumu feels it again. Competition. He loved the feeling of it- the feeling that things were finally getting interesting.
He's walking towards the girl's gym again to drag you out to play with his team so he can play against you, when something he hears makes him pause in his step.
"I just don't understand what Atsumu-kun sees in her!" It's a high pitched whine, one that causes his eyes to darken.
"Right? It's not like Y/N is pretty or anything like that."
"She's good at volleyball- so what? It's not like she'd be anywhere without her team."
A tap on his shoulder is what breaks him out of his eavesdropping, turning slowly to see you standing there with a sad smile, grip tightening on the bag filled with drinks- you had went to get drinks for the entire team, while they boldly slandered you behind your back.
Your voice is hushed, but tinged with a bit of hurt as you shrug.
"It's just the way of the game."
"Like hell it is." Atsumu growls, swinging open the door as you gape at the action. Before you can react, Atsumu's laugh is resounding through the gym as you peek out from behind his back.
"Oh my god, aren't you three bench warmers? Yer' the ones talkin' shit?" He can't hold back his laughter as you audibly sigh from behind him.
"A-Atsumu-"
"Oi." The blonde isn't laughing anymore, eyes on the edge of menacing as he cracks his neck, eyes darkening. "Squeal all you want, just hope and pray I'm not there to listen to it."
"Y/N-senpai, we're so sorry!" You blanch at the three girls who were now bowing profusely in front of you before assuring them it's fine, tugging on Atsumu's arm with an eyeroll.
"We need to talk."
"You know, you are pretty." Atsumu grumbles as you tug him along. "I don't know why they-"
"I can fight my own battles, 'Tsumu." You huff at the boy in front of you, considering him both your rival and your friend. "It's just misplaced jealousy- don't make it worse between my teammates and I. I would've said something- come on, do you know me?"
Atsumu stands there for a second, soaking in your words as a slow realization comes onto him. This whole time, he's been treating you like a rival, a thing, something to propel him further and sharpen his skills-
not realizing he had slowly grown to care about you a little more than a rival maybe should. He had moved without thinking, the thoughtless words not meant for his ears pissing him off way more than it would've any other person.
But this was you. You always walked along your bicycle when he insisted on walking you home, making him listen to your music as you trained before eventually making playlists for him when he told you how much he liked it. You trained with him for as long as he wanted, even going to the public gym together when you trained with your respective teams.
Atsumu is still staring at you, seeming to process something as you laugh a little at his expression as the sun begins to set behind your figure.
"I'm not mad at you. Come on, I'll bring you back."
"Quit treatin' me like a stray." Atsumu mumbles, but he's unfocused, burning holes into the back of your head as you tug him along, smiling back at him.
"You have a bad habit of staring at me, you know?"
Oh shit.
"Well, you did call me pretty and all." You tease, winking once as you wave at his team in the distance, waiting by the practice gym to continue the practice as his prolonged absence ended up affecting the entire team.
Atsumu ducks his head as his twin smirks at the sight, Atsumu's face on fire as his eyes lock on to where you're hand is touching his arm.
He's so fucked.
1K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 11 months
Text
everything.
ln x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
6.4k words
“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
-
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cowboybeepboop · 2 months
Text
Wild ride
"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."
You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 5206
Summary: Tyler comforts you through a panic attack after a storm. He then rescues you from your fight with Javi. You take a drive to a hotel and then things get very heated.
a/n: this is entirely a reader insert to the movie bc I thought it would fit so perfectly. Also this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever wrote lmao 😭 Hopefully you enjoy!
When you moved to New York it wasn’t just to get away from the place where your friends all died. It was because you couldn’t live there without feeling guilt about being the reason everyone was out there to begin with. The shame and guilt was burning you, inside and out. All for what? What did it get you? Nothing. If you couldn’t tame a tornado you were going to do everything in your power to help people prepare and get out before it was too late. So when Javi came to you asking for help with storm par, you wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that there was no way you could ever possibly go back not after what you did.
But when he was explaining how they would be making a perfect 3D scan of the tornado and how it can be used to help save lives, you knew you had to help. He was right. You could get him close enough to the tornado in order to set up the portable units.
As time passes you find yourself more intrigued by the self proclaimed “Tornado Wrangler”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. At the same time though, he’s frustrating. Like all he cares about is chasing the storm and making money instead of realizing how much damage these things cause.
“Javi, we have to help.” You say sternly as he keeps talking about the stupid sensor. “Javi! It’s a small town, they’re going to need all the help they can get, we need to help.” He sighs.
“Alright, alright. I’ll look for it later, okay?” You press a hand to his arm gently. “You made a good call. They really do need our help.” Javi pulls off to the side of the road, taking the keys out. You quickly leave the truck and go off to help.
We worked through the afternoon, finding lost heirlooms, important documents, and small mementos that people had thought were lost forever. Each time, their faces would light up with relief, and I’d feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing I could make a difference.
The sun had broken through the clouds, casting long shadows over the town. The cleanup was far from over, but the worst was behind us. People were starting to talk again, making plans to rebuild. There was a sense of hope in the air, fragile but growing stronger with each passing minute.
You’re watching Javi and Scott interacting with an old guy and someone who lost their bar. Your eyebrows furrow as they offer him a card. “Didn’t know storm par was in the business of helping people,” you hear the familiar cowboy’s voice ringing through the air.
”Well, from what I see they’re trying to make a difference.” You turn to look at Tyler, wrapping your arms around your upper body.
”That’s one way of putting it,” he narrows his eyes while looking behind you at Javi.
“What?” you clench your jaw.
“Do you even know who you’re chasing for?”, his voice raises slightly. ”How much more do these people got to lose before y’all are done making a difference?” His face tightens as he grinds his teeth slightly.
”Sorry, says the guy setting up shop selling t-shirts and mugs after a storm’s hit.” You turn around before he can answer. Pulling the keys Javi gave you out of your pocket. Right as you’re reaching for the door, Lily yells your name.
”Hey, take some food,” she hands you a brown takeout box and a water bottle.
”Oh, I don’t have any cash on me,” you give a half smile.
”It’s okay, that’s why we're always selling shirts and mugs, so we can help give people food.” You shake your head as your eyes widen slightly.
”Then you should keep it, in case you run out.” She hands you the water bottle.
“At least take the water, stay hydrated.” You nod and tell her to stay safe.
Once you get back to the motel you quickly take a shower. Sitting down on the bed with your laptop you look up “Marshall Riggs” you bite down on your cheek, your eyes closing after you read up on him. Pinching your nose bridge you let out a sigh, closing the device.
There’s a knock at the door, you get up slowly and open it. “Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying down by the rodeo.” You don’t say anything in return so he offers you a small pizza box. “Thought you might be hungry,” you take it and shut the door in his face.
You reopen the door, “Thank you, Tyler.” He smiles sweetly.
“How are you doin’, after all that?” Your head nods softly. “How about I show you something nice, city girl.” He offers you his arm.
”And what’s that?” Stepping out of your room you close and lock the door before taking his arm. He doesn’t reply but instead leads you to the stadium at the rodeo. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the dusty rodeo grounds. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of grilled food, mingling with the earthy smell of the arena. Families filled the bleachers, kids waving flags and clutching cotton candy, while seasoned rodeo-goers leaned against the rails, hats tipped low, eyes sharp with anticipation.
As the night wore on, the rodeo continued—steer wrestling, bronc riding, and more, each event bringing its own excitement and challenges. The crowd cheered, laughed, and gasped, caught up in the spectacle. In the arena, cowboys were competing in the team roping event. Dust kicked up as the horses thundered forward, riders expertly casting their lassos around the horns of the steers. The crowd roared with approval when a duo managed to secure a flawless catch, the announcer’s voice booming in congratulations.
“So tell me about yourself city girl,” Tyler’s voice is low and gentle.
“You know you keep calling me that,” you turn to him, “ but this isn’t my first rodeo, I grew up here in Oklahoma.” Turning back to the events in front of you.
“Would you look at that, I finally learned something about you.” His lips curve up as he admires your side profile.
Back behind the scenes, in the holding pens, a few of the seasoned ranch hands started to glance nervously at the sky. They could see it now—a line of dark, swirling clouds on the horizon, moving faster than seemed natural. A wind had picked up, too, sharper and colder than it had been just minutes ago. But the rodeo continued, the excitement and noise drowning out any sense of unease.
A leaf falls onto your head, you reach your hand up into the air as you watch the leaves fall around you. “Tyler, the air feels heavy, this isn’t right.”
In the ring, the next event was starting: the barrel racing. A young girl was about to make her run when a sharp crack of thunder boomed overhead, so loud it momentarily drowned out the announcer. The crowd murmured, looking up at the sky as the first raindrops began to fall. But as she rounded the first barrel, the wind hit, strong and fierce, whipping dust and debris across the arena. The rain intensified, turning into a heavy downpour that sent people in the stands scrambling for cover. The announcer tried to keep up the energy, but his voice was lost in the wind. In the distance, a low, ominous rumble filled the air—not thunder this time, but something far more menacing.
There's barely time to react before the rodeo’s emergency siren began to wail, a long, shrill warning that sent a chill down everyone’s spine. People were running, some heading for their cars, others diving for the nearest ditch or sturdy structure. The craze of people began pushing and trampling one another, Tyler quickly grabs a woman who fell. He helps her up to her feet and guides you toward the hotel you’re staying at.
“There! Let’s check for a basement,” you nod as you both run inside. There’s a couple arguing with the clerk, you’re checking around for a doorway that might lead to a basement. Tyler tries to ask the man working the front desk but to no avail. “Outside, there’s an empty pool.” You yell to Tyler, “we can try there” he nods and you begin leading the young mother and daughter out the door, Owen’s and the man follow close behind. Once you get the mother and girl down you jump in. Directing them toward the open piping. “Hold on there, cover her head.”
You grasp onto the pipes holding on tight as you feel Tyler’s chest pressing against your back. He keeps his hands tight around the bars, he keeps himself tight against you making sure you don’t move.
“You’re gonna be okay, keep holding on. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” he’s whispering into your ear. You tightly squeeze your eyes shut feeling as though you’re being transported back to the day when you lost everything.
It started with a flutter in your chest, like the faint rustling of wings. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to nerves, but the flutter didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, spreading through your body like wildfire. Your breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, each breath feeling like it wasn’t enough, like there wasn’t enough air.
It started with trembling hands, and then your whole body followed, shaking uncontrollably. Feeling lightheaded, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly disappeared, leaving you suspended in a void. My chest tightened, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it even harder to breathe.
As quickly as the storm had begun, it passed over. Tyler wraps his arms around you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your body continues to shake as you can’t seem to breathe. “It’s okay, just follow my breathing,” he turns you around so your face is in his chest.
”Deep breaths, in and out,” Tyler gives gentle directions as he rubs his palms over your arms.
”I think I’m okay now..” your voice is soft and hoarse as you choke the words out. His cold, rough hand gently brushes the hair from your face.
“You look like you’ve been through hell tonight.” He says, while helping you out of the pool. You stifle a small laugh in response. Boone and the rest of his crew come up to the pair of you, asking if you’re both alright.
“Y/N, baby. Are you okay?” Javi appears behind you, his hands gently pressing into your hips as he pulls you into a tight hug.
Tyler feels a pang of jealousy as he watches Javi slide his hands lovingly around your hips and pull you into the hug. He tries to shake the feeling, reminding himself that it’s not his place to care. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him.
“I came as soon as I heard,” his eyes filled with worry as you looked up at him. “Where did you hide out? The pool?” You just nod in response, finding comfort in his arms. Javi keeps repeatedly asking if you’re okay, running his fingers through your hair and resting one hand on your waist.
“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you pull away from him, giving a soft smile. “I was with Tyler the whole time, he made sure I was okay.” He nods but his eyes flicker behind you.
“Javi, your little girlfriend is fine, now let's get to work.” Scott says loudly, catching the attention of Tyler and Lily. “Apparently this place was family owned so I’m gonna start working on numbers. Riggs is gonna want those first thing.” His voice and face are both emotionless and cold, sending a slight shiver down your spine.
“Wait wait,” you hold onto his arm. “What exactly is Riggs getting out of all your data collection?”
“What’s the matter?” He scratches his neck and awkward expression flashing over his features.
“Is profiting off of people’s tragedy part of your business plan? Why are you doing this?” You pull away from his body.
“Riggs is offering these people a way to move on with their lives.” He takes a step back from you, his voice raising slightly.
“Swooping in and taking advantage of people, who have just lost everything” you take a deep breath to steady your shaky voice “You have no idea what that’s like”
“I don’t know what that’s like?” His fist clenches “How about losing three of my best friends while you were trying to land a big fat grant for your science project?”
Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you look up at him, lip quivering. “Take your keys, I’m done.” You toss them at his feet walking off as fast as you can. Finding yourself drawn to Tyler and his wrangler team.
Tyler witnessed the whole exchange, and his protective instinct flares up again. He watches you stomp away from Javi, a mixture of anger and concern etched on his face. He notices the tears in your eyes and the wobble in your lip. He steps forward and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”
“Can you just take me somewhere please?” Your voice trembles while Javi yells after you. Asking you not to leave like this.
Tyler shoots a warning glare over his shoulder at Javi before turning back to you. “Of course, darling. Anywhere you want to go.” Owen’s voice is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.
He gently takes your elbow, steering you away from Javi, and his crew. Tyler leads you over to his Truck in the parking lot where the motel once was, his hand still on your elbow. Tyler opens the passenger door and guides you onto the seat, shutting the door before making his way around to the driver's side.
A sigh escapes your lips as you relax into the seat. You softly massage your nose bridge keeping your eyes squeezed shut as a tear escapes one of your eyes.
Tyler watches you silently as you try to regain your composure. He can sense the pain and hurt radiating off of you, and he wishes he could take it all away. After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Hey, look at me for a second.” He puts his hand on your knee rubbing small circles into your skin.
You open up your eyes, turning to look at him. Your lip still quivering slightly. Tyler’s heart aches as he looks into your tearful eyes. He reaches out and gently wipes the tear away with his thumb, his rough hands surprisingly tender against your face.
“Hey, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. You’re gonna stay with me tonight, okay?” His hand travels down your cheek as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before he starts the car he reaches into the backseat pulling out one of his hats, putting it on with his signature smile.
“You know, you deserve way better than that,” he turns the keys in the ignition. “You can do way better than him anyway.” You giggle while brushing your teary eyes.
“Do you think Javi and I are a couple?” Your once sorrow filled eyes light up with your laugh. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tyler's mouth as he watches you laugh. The sight of your smile warms his heart, and the pang of jealousy eases a bit.
“I mean, he seemed pretty possessive of you back there. And the way he was touchin’ up on you…” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory.
“Don’t tell me that makes you jealous,” a small smirk decorates your lips. You lean closer to his side, turning your body to further face him.
Tyler’s breath hitches as you lean closer to him, a wave of electricity coursing through his veins. He tries to keep his cool, but the hint of possessiveness flickers in his eyes once again.
“Jealous? Me?” he scoffs, trying to convince himself more than you.
Your eyes light up “Oh you’re totally jealous,” you brush your fingers over the skin on his arms, moving your hand to meet his.
A shiver runs down Tyler’s spine as your fingers travel along his skin, his heartbeat quickening at your touch. He tries to maintain a cool demeanor, but the flutter in his chest gives him away.
“Jealous? Of that jackass?”, his voice a little rougher this time. He looks down at your hand in his, noticing how small and delicate it looks against his own, rough and calloused hands. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to interlace his fingers with yours.
“Is that so?” You interlock your fingers with his as you lean over to kiss his temple. “It’s okay to be jealous, just tell me you don’t like seeing other men touching me,” you whisper into his ear, your voice filled with amusement.
Tyler takes a sharp breath as you interlace your fingers with his, his hand clamping tight around yours. “It does make me jealous,” he admits, his voice a gravelly whisper. His free hand squeezes the steering wheel, the muscles in his arm flexing tightly. “Alright, I don’t like seeing other men touchin’ you.” He brushes his thumb over the top of your hand.
A blush quickly rises up your face as you squeeze his hand firmly. Resting your head against his shoulder you bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Are we almost to a hotel?” Your heart races as you feel the muscles in his arm flexing.
Tyler glances out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract himself from the feeling of you resting against his shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still low and rough.
“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, the gentle movement betraying the tension in his body. He can’t help but steal a glance down at you, taking in your blushing face and the way you bite down on your lip. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.
Using your free hand you run your fingers over his thigh, letting your mind wander as you think about your plans for the night. Trailing your hand closer and closer to his hips teasingly.
Tyler’s breath hitches as you run your fingers along his thigh, his body tense as you trail your hand closer to his hips. His mind starts racing with impure thoughts, visions of you pinned beneath him, your skin against his. He swallows hard, his muscles tensing further as he tries to control himself.
“You’re playin’ a dangerous game, you know that?” his voice low and rough, almost coming out as a growl.
“Yeah?” You run your fingers over his golden belt buckle, “I like dangerous games,” your tongue poking out as you lick your bottom lip.
Tyler swallows hard when you touch his golden belt buckle, his body shuddering under your touch. He shifts in his seat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him while also struggling to keep his eyes on the road.
“Oh yeah? How dangerous are you willing to go?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. He glances down at your tongue on your lip, his eyes darkening as he imagines what it would feel like against his skin.
“That depends, love,” you press soft kisses into his neck, moving your hand from his, resting it on his chest. “How far are you gonna wanna go?” Your eyes flicker to the hotel sign as the truck pulls into the parking lot.
Tyler lets out a shaky breath as you pepper kisses along his neck, his heart stuttering at the feeling of your lips on his skin. He places a hand over yours on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath your touch.
“Damn, darlin’, you’re really testing my limits right now.” he manages to say, his voice a growl. “But if it were up to me I’d go as far as you’d let me.”
He looks out the window as the truck pulls into the hotel parking lot, his mind racing with all the possibilities that the night holds. He leaps out of the truck running to your side to open the door for you.
“Well, you better hurry up and find us a room then,” you shut the door behind you. You pull the hat from his head, placing it on yours.
Tyler watches you stride ahead of him, his eyes drinking in the sight of his hat sitting on your head. He adjusts his jeans, trying to hide the stiffness growing in his groin as he follows you up to the hotel check-in desk.
“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” he mutters to you as he gets the room keys from the attendant. You flash him an innocent smile as you step into the elevator.
“But you’re too cute when you’re flustered.” Looking up at him you press both hands against his well-built abs. You slip your thigh between his legs as he reaches for the buttons on the elevator, pressing into his groin.
Tyler’s breath hitches at the feel of your hands on his stomach, his muscles flexing under your touch. His heart nearly pounds out of his chest as your thigh brushes against his stiffness, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the contact.
“Jesus, darlin'...you’re gonna be the death of me.” he pants, the words thick with lust. He struggles with the elevator buttons, his hands fumbling as his mind becomes increasingly clouded with need.
You stand up on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear “That’s the plan,”. You move one hand up to his jaw, pulling his face to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me yet?” You mumble.
Tyler swallows hard as you tease his ear with your hot breath, his body growing taut with desire. He looks down at your face, his gaze fixated on your lips as you speak. The words send a shiver down his spine, his restraint slipping by the second.
“You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” his lips hover just above your own. He runs a thumb across your lower lip, his eyes darkened by lust.
“Tyler, I want you to do much more than just kiss me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your chest against his. “Please,” you breathe out. The elevator dings as you get to the floor of your room.
Tyler’s control snaps at your words, a low growl escaping his lips as you press against him. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, the pleading tone of your voice nearly undoing him.
“Don’t gotta ask me twice, darlin’” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the elevator and towards your room. You giggle into his ear while he unlocks the door.
Tyler grins at the sound of your giggles, his chest rumbling with a satisfied chuckle. He kicks the hotel door open, his eyes locking on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. He sets you down on the edge of the bed, towering over you as he places his hands on your thighs. You both kick your shoes off really quickly before getting back to it.
Your hand goes to the back of his neck as you pull his face to yours. You kiss him with hunger. Your free hand sliding up his shirt as you feel his smooth abs.
Tyler groans deep in his throat as you pull him towards you, his body responding instantly to your touch. He devours your lips with a primal need, his tongue exploring your mouth as he presses his body up against yours. His muscles twitch under your hand, fire spreading through his veins as you glide your fingers across his abs.
“Goddamn it, Y/N… you're makin' me crazy.” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. He kisses you again, his hands roaming up your thighs, tracing the curves of your body with rough yet tender caresses.
Your hands trail down his abdomen, landing on his belt buckle once again. Your fingers fumble with his belt before successfully pulling it out. Breaking the kiss you quickly remove your shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.
“Mm Ty…” sucking on your bottom lip as you lean back on your hands while looking up at him seductively.
Tyler sucks in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch. Once you remove your shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath, his gaze trails over your body, his eyes darkened by lust. He watches you lean back on the bed, your eyes locking with his in a sultry gaze.
“Mmm darlin’...” you sit up and pull him closer by the loops on his jeans, his strong legs coming between your own, spreading them apart. Lifting up his shirt you press kisses all over his tanned skin.
He reaches his hand out to touch your exposed skin, his fingers gently tracing your collarbone. “Then why don’t you do something about it baby?” You ask in a low tone.
His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer as you spread your legs even wider for him. “Oh baby, you don't know what you're gettin' yourself into” he whispers, his voice rumbling with need.
He suddenly grips your hips tightly and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he pins you against the bed. Reaching up you pull his shirt over his head almost moaning at the sight of his toned body.
He smirks as he watches your eyes rake over him, his ego growing at your reaction. “You like what you see, Y/N?” He asks, his voice rough with desire as he looks down at you, his body pressing against yours.
“Most definitely,” you capture his lips in a deep kiss, maneuvering to put him on his back, straddling his hips. Moving back you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. Pulling the pants off his hips you smile to yourself as you see how worked up you got him. Your hand slips into his boxers wrapping around his length.
He lets out a guttural moan, body arching into yours at the contact. “Oh God, baby…” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a string of curses. Tyler's sharp intake of breath was your reward, and you relish in the feeling of power it gives you. He grips the bed sheets tightly as you pull his dick out, wrapping your lips around the tip.
“Fuck,” he moans as you pull off and sit back on the bed, making sure your teasing antics continue. All you really want is for Tyler to take complete control and you know exactly how to make him. With slow, purposeful movements, you remove your bra, freeing your breasts and running gentle hands over your own body, nipples hardening under your touch. Then you sit back, pulling your panties off, giving him a show.
Tyler's breathing quickens, his desire palpable. "Damn it, Y/N, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with need. "Stop teasing and give it to me."
A slow, seductive smile spreads across your face. "I'm not teasing, Tyler," you say, reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh. "I'm just getting started." Guiding his hand, you slowly part your legs, exposing your wet, eager pussy to his touch. Tyler's fingers delve between the folds, his touch both gentle and demanding. You moan, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back while you relish in the sensation.
"That's it," you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. "Touch me, Tyler. Make me cum." Your voice comes out in a gentle beg.
Tyler's other hand joins the first, exploring your most intimate places, his thumbs circling your clit as he plunged his fingers into the tight hole. Your hips buck as you begin riding his hands with waves of pleasure crashing over you.
"Yes, just like that," you pant, your body trembling. "Oh, God, Tyler, don't stop. I'm so close."
Tyler quickens his pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."
With a sharp cry, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure rips through your entire body. Tyler continues working his magic, drawing out your orgasm and prolonging the exquisite sensation.
Finally, as the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse into the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch a breath. Tyler hovers over your frame, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of triumph and desire.
"That," he said, his voice raw, "was just the beginning. Especially after all of that teasing you did,” his voice low and sultry. Tyler's lips curve into a devilish smile as he positions himself between your trembling legs. In one smooth thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. Moaning at the stretch, your body welcomes the invasion.
Tyler begin to move, his hips driving into you with a rhythmic pace. Meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on. The bed creaks in time with their passionate dance, the sound of your guys’s passionate gasps and moans filling the room.
"Harder, Tyler," you moan, your body craving much more. "Fuck me harder."
Tyler obliges, his movements becoming more urgent as he plunges into you again and again. The room echos with the sounds of your carnal coupling, the air heavy with the scent of sex.
Your body coils tight once more, climbing towards another orgasm. "I'm gonna cum again," you cry out, voice hoarse. "Don't stop, Tyler, please don't stop."
Tyler grunts his response, his own orgasm building. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding your slightly swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. It was all the stimulation you needed, and with a shout of release, you shatter into pieces, juices flooding around Tyler's hard cock.
Feeling you contracting around him, Tyler finally let go, thrusting deeply into you. Moaning into your ear as he spilled his seed, filling you with his warmth. You both cling to each other, breathing coming in ragged gasps as the two of you ride out the waves of your shared ecstasy. Collapsing onto the bed, bodies still joined, Tyler rolls onto his back, bringing your exhausted body with him so laying sprawled on top of him.
"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."
You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.
a/n (again): sorry just wanted to say that I’m working on making some more twisters smut, but i also have top gun maverick smut if y’all wanna check that out 😝🙏
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lovegasmic · 8 months
Note
Making satoru squirt and him making fem reader squirt. I'm dying for some switch content
mdni. mutual overstimulation, whiney Satoru my beloved. ( i had to pause writing at least 5 times to scream in my pillow ) please read the first two tags lmao
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“b-baby, p-plea-se, I can’t, not anymore, a-ah!” Satoru sobs quite loudly to be honest, his eyes are glossy and filled with tears, the rim of them slightly reddened and matching the color of his bitten lips from endless hours of overstimulation. you’ve probably sucked the strength out of him through his dick, since his hands weakly push against your forehead in a failed attempt to keep you away from his throbbing length, “j-just pull it out, ah-a!”
“how many so far?” you giggle, pulling his cock out between your lips with a loud pop and getting in return a grateful sigh out of your boyfriend, one that doesn’t last long as your palm comes to rub circular motions on his tip, smearing the remaining cum all over the swollen flesh.
“d-dunno... ngh! haa, it’s too much!” he chokes on his own sobs, arching against the couch backrest so his heaving chest glistens with sweat under the living room lightbulb, his thighs squeeze your sides tightly, kicking and fighting the intense mixture of pain and pleasure running through his flustered pale body from the tip of his cock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend so worked up and overstimulated, all whiney —more than usual if you had to admit— but he looked absolutely cute begging for mercy.
“just one more, c’mon, and i’ll let you go” you smirk pressing your lips to the underside of his messy cock, feeling the veins throb under your tongue and palm warm up from where it continues to rub on his tip.
“n-no! stop please, feels weird!” Satoru begs, his body curving so he hovers over your body, so close to your face you’re able to watch his eyes open wide in shock, panting loudly and holding onto your hair for support barely seconds away from half screaming and shooting a translucent and diluted cum-like liquid in hard jets that landed on your face and the floor.
“wha—” you mutter back, staring in surprise at how your boyfriend’s body flops back against the couch, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon, “Satoru... did you just squirt? ” it comes out as a giggle, still dumbfounded from what just happened.
he doesn’t reply, and you’re a bit worried that he might have fainted, deciding to sit on his lap and observe his unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“Toru?” you softly slap his cheek, biting back a grin “are you dead?”
your boyfriend is a box of surprises, that’s for sure, but something that never failed to amaze you, even though you’re well aware of, is his incredible strength and stamina, yes, he might look all brain fried right now, but you should have expected for him to flip you over in the blink of an eye, pushing you underneath his body and spread on the couch with one leg over the backrest and the other bent so far it almost touched your ear.
“i told you to stop” Satoru growls, hands hooking under your thighs, positively bending you in half with his fattening cock dangerously close to your dripping cunt.
you laugh breathlessly, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes and slicking it back to watch how his bright blue eyes are now slightly darkened and almost disappearing around his blown out pupils, “please..., that was so fucking hot”
“we’ll see if you say the same after I make you squirt and beg” his voice is erratic, deeper and a bit dangerous, barely giving you time to process his words before he’s plunging deep into your pussy with a broken moan, he might act all dominant now, but the way his thighs shook and cock twitch told another story.
“don’t exaggerate! it wasn’t t-that ba-ah!” you get to mutter, cut by Satoru’s hard and precise thrusts inside your sopping wet cunt, moving in frenzy while choked out sobs came out of his mouth, drunk in the feeling of your tight hole squeezing him.
“so good, oh my fucking god!” your boyfriend moans, caging your body underneath his by pressing almost his whole weight on top of you, allowing only his hips to fuck into you with a loud wet sound from where his balls slam against your slick coated ass, barely rising before he’s back deep inside your walls, continuously slamming directly against your g-spot.
“S-satoru, i’m sorry alright, b-but please! slow down!” you cry out, begs falling on deaf ears as the man thrusts never falter, continuously driving you insane, and himself into the border of crying from fucking his overstimulated sensitive cock inside your pretty pussy.
“ah, ah! i’m gonna cum again” he sobs, ignoring your screams and nails digging on his back, and instead wrapping his arms around your thighs, bending you in half as he mounted you with whines and whimpers coming out of his lips, “uh, feels amazing, i’m going insane” is the last thing Satoru says before digging his teeth in your neck and cumming drily inside your pussy, the position causing his cock to bump and twitch directly against your g-spot and forcing your own orgasm out.
a loud beep rang in your ears at the same time your eyes clouded, unaware of the force of your own squirt gushing out and dropping from Satoru’s toned chest and flushed cock, you couldn’t hear a sound, but were certain you screamed quite loudly, only a couple of minutes after, once he knew you were a bit more lucid Satoru dared exhale a soft “payback” directly against your ear.
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write4cench · 1 year
Text
chicken shop date.
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had to make this into a imagine.
summary: you get the chance to interview central cee on your show titled "chicken shop date" but he's obviously into you. sorry to ameila dimoldenburg lmao.
pairings: central cee x reader
genre: fluff / slightly suggestive
word count: 2k (unedited)
a/n: imagine that ameila dimoldenburg doesn't exist for the whole sake of the plot. i stole most of her iconic replies though. thank you and GIVE ME REQUESTS. <3
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finally. you've got a special guest on for today that's been a fan of your show for a long time and well.. you. although, you haven't had the pleasure of meeting one another in reality, but luckily he agreed to have a chicken shop date with you.
central cee.
you both sit down behind a table in a small yet cosy morleys, the camera crew sets up and prepares for the show whilst a small yet not too large crowd accumulates outside the shop at sight of you two.
you greet central cee and he beams back at you as you both get comfortable and prepare for the small interview/date. "it's nice to have you on the show." you thank him.
"it's calm, i've always wanted to be here." he responds, insisting that it really isn't truly that big of a deal.
you won't lie to yourself, you've always found central cee to be attractive ever since he happened to become a uk rap sensation. i mean who hasn't. you're excited and feel as if it's a blessing to sit before him.
"i actually watch this show too, i saw your interview with burna boy." he admits, referencing the last interview i held about a month ago.
my mouth agapes as i feel honoured to the fact that he actually took the chance to watch my show, "really?" you ask him out of disbelief and he nods proudly.
you'd admit, you'd thought it would be awkward to hold an interview with central cee considering the fact that he hasn't been too shy about the fact that you're considered his celebrity crush but surprisingly, he's very comforting to be around and is down-to-earth.
"i mean obviously you watch my interviews." you joke referencing to his interest in you and he laughs, not denying it at all.
the interview begins.
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"what would you say your type is." you ask him and he pauses for a moment thinking to himself before he breaks into a smile. you notice this and furrow your brows confused.
"i like.. i like-" he starts.
"why're you smiling?" you question him confused, although it's an obvious inside joke with the two of you and everyone else that his type is clearly you.
"i don't really know my type, it changes innit it changes by the season." he denies the obvious making me roll my eyes, he sees this and it only makes him laugh.
"well it's winter." you tell him.
"i want my girl to be able to teach me something." he says, before he glares directly at you. you don't let it faze you and you continue to play along with your passive aggressive humour.
"i know a lot, i could teach you something." you joke and he shrugs raising his brows impressed.
"i guess your my type then." he mumbles, his eyes glancing away towards his box of chips and chicken wings.
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"what's your favourite tattoo you have?" you question him before eating on one of your chips, central cee listens carefully to you.
"i'm just one big tattoo and the moment, i don't really, i don't know- it's all just blended into one." he rambles as he thinks to himself looking over his clothed arms and chest.
you find him adorable especially his way of speaking, "i like them." you compliment him and something behind his eyes reads pleased.
"thanks."
it's obvious that he's clearly into you, everything from the way that he looks at you, the way he listens carefully whenever you speak and the way that he sits.
you try your best to not make the episode seem like to serious of a date, but with him sitting in front of you, it seems completely impossible.
"i'm not sure how i feel about face tattoos." you mutter, hinting to the small tattoos that decorate his face, he slightly frowns.
"really?"
"would you get another one?" you ask him curiously and he hums thinking to himself.
"maybe not after you said that." he utters jokingly sadly and you both share a short moment of laughter.
"i was joking."
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"how long does it take for you to fall in love?"
your question clearly doesn't fall onto interested ears, as a matter of a fact central cee obviously doesn't favour the word love at all.
"i don't know if i've fallen in love before." he admits with a smile to hide how suddenly deep the conversation has gotten.
"you've never fallen in love?" you ask him genuinely surprised.
"no, no- i guess so. i have a weird outlook on love." he responds before pausing looking at you. you ask him to continue on. "i just think it's a delusion innit."
you raise your brows at his response finding it different from your views, "like what, it isn't real?"
"i've been thinking about it a lot recently.. because yeah it's on my mind anyway." he starts finding an interest in the unopened water bottle that lies on the table between you.
"feel like you just have to be a bit deluded."
"that don't mean it isn't real." your response has him in lost of words and he glances about the place before shrugging in response. "i think when you fall in love you'll know." your words make you both share a gaze for a moment before he breaks it, thinking to himself.
"i mean, what if your girl fucks around and it makes your belly hurt, i dunno if that's a good conation on love." he confesses and he notices how it makes you smile.
"maybe that's just what love means to you."
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"you've got long hair?" you question him.
"my hair is long." he replies his face looking slightly miserable.
"would you ever take it out of the sock it's always in." you joke and he laughs before he hums thinking of his next words.
"i dunno, i feel like i'm going through a bit of an identity crisis at the moment." he admits, and you hum in reply.
"i like long hair." you smile and he sees so before grinning.
"guess, i'll keep it then." he glances away again.
he's just like a little school boy who's gotten the chance to speak with his crush for the first time. it's cute.
"do i look like i'm hot, like my face is hot." you question him using your hands to fan your face and he shakes his head.
"you're fine." he starts glancing over at your face, "i like it though, it's like natural blush."
"stop flirting with me."
"it's cute." he mumbles gazing at you.
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"i'm really bad at flirting." he sighs to himself rubbing his head deep in thought, you furrow your brows in disbelief.
"what do you mean you're bad at flirting?"
"yeah, i'm just shit at flirting, i can't flirt man."
"so what, you don't get with a lot of girls all the time?" he hurries to deny and shake his head, but you only listen to him curiously.
"you're telling me you don't go out with anyone?" you raise his brow and he watches you do so, hurrying to think of his next words.
"no, maybe i do go out sometimes, it's not like i'll go out of my way to do so." he tells you and you hum. "i've just lived a long life." he mumbles making you laugh at how deep it sounds.
"would you go out with me?" your questions sparks his attention and he chuckles to himself at how straight forward it is.
"i'll see."
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"this is like a genuine date to me." he says as he opens up with bottle of chilled water, "like i'm genuinely here it's a dinner.. date."
you smile at him as you recall the times he's wanted to go on a date with your for ages, "you've wanted to go on a date with me for ages." you tell him and he smiles.
"i did want to go on a date with you, before my carrer flourished then i got overwhelmed not looking for love it was like a full circle."
"now you're on a date with me." you say proudly and he nods.
"finally." he glares at you and something about it catches you aback, he's really trying to full on flirt with you.
"are you single?" he raises his brow at your question.
"i mean yeah, obviously." he begins laying back into his seat, "i mean otherwise, i wouldn't be here."
"i'm single too." you imply reaffirming him but he doesn't say anything beside humming taking your word.
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"what's the quickest way to get to your heart." you ask him, the phrase makes him irk and he frowns.
"don't try to get to my heart." he tells you and you listen to him. "i just think, i don't like girls that like me." he mumbles
"i hate you."
he laughs at your playfulness, "turns me on, i love it."
"guess i'll hate you from now on." you mutter lowly, but he still hears it.
"what's the most romantic thing you've ever done?" you ask him, but learning so much about him you already expect a specific response from him.
"i'm hopeless, i dunno i'm transitioning, this is all hard for me." he rants and you exhale deeply.
"too bad, it's all hard for you."
"it's easier said than done."
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"you have a nice smile." you compliment him and he smiles looking at you.
"you're really pretty you know." he responds making you feel your cheeks slightly warm up.
"and you don't know how to flirt?" you frown but he shrugs once again. how can he not understand that he's literally a walking flirt.
"guess you'll teach me then." he glances at you in a suggestive way and you grin as you recall telling him you'll teach him something.
"it was nice talking to you, i'll c you later." you joke and he laughs getting your play on words.
"love and leave me."
"what do you mean love and leave me?"
"like i'll love you and leave you."
"what about love and love me?"
he closes his box gazing at you. "sounds good."
"what's that song you have with pinkpantheress called?" you question him and he shuffles in his seat before responding.
"obsessed with you."
"yeah i know, tell me the song's name." he mentally groans at the word obsessed and you feel the urge to roll your eyes again.
"i don't think i'm the obsessed type." he complains.
"i feel like secretly you are." you tell him implying his obvious celebrity crush on you and he smiles understanding you.
"maybe i am, but i dunno yet."
"i feel like you're the type to catch feelings and get obsessed." he listens to you nodding his head passively aggressively.
"maybe i'm a simp you know." he utters and you both share a gaze with one another before laughing.
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"can i get your number, or something?" he asks you taking out his phone from his pocket and passing it towards you.
you blink at his phone for a moment before looking up at him, only to see him watching you expectantly.
you take it from him without a word before typing in your number and adding your contact name followed by a sweet emoji before passing it back to him with a smile.
he glances down at the name and laughs upon noticing the emoji you put before testing it out and calling the number.
your phone buzzes from inside of your pocket and you show it him making him grin with a nod, "i'll call you later yeah, pick up." he tells you and suddenly the tension within the room has changed into hinting something sexual.
"course, i'll pick up." you reply.
"alright."
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zvdvdlvr · 7 months
Text
— Lunch Break
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— 🫧. Synopsis. Spencer hasn’t been feeling well lately. When he accidentally gives you his lunch as well as yours, you have to leave work to make sure he gets his lunch and eats to make sure he gets better. But the thing is, no one knew Spencer had married someone.
— 🫧. Warnings. Blue!collar reader. Female reader. Collective group shock lmao. Foul language. Welder!reader. Pet names. Possible out of character Spencer but i dont really care. I’m so sleep deprived yall.
— 🫧. Other welder!reader pieces. Alive and Breathing.
“Bye, angel,” you murmured after pressing a kiss to your sleepin husband’s cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Spencer replied tiredly, eyes opening the slightest bit. “I already put your lunch in your cooler. Be safe.”
You smiled. Of course, even though you have to leave at 2 in the morning, Spencer’s already five steps ahead. You turned to leave the bedroom but stopped after hearing him cough. “Before you leave- I got you a few more boxes of that DayQuill/NyQuill stuff and Mucinex. Should be on the counter. Make sure you take them, Spence. I know you haven’t been feeling well. Bye, I love you,” you spoke quickly, throwing your coat on.
Spencer felt a smile forming on his face. His wife: always attentive and gentle (to him at least). “I love you, baby.”
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“Hey,” Spencer greeted, picking up his phone and heading out of the bullpen. “What’s up?” Spencer was confused: you didn’t usually call him or contact him when you were at work unless it was absolutely necessary. Were you in trouble? “Are you okay?”
“I’m alright, angel. I’m coming over to drop off your lunch. You, uh,” your voice paused, probably observing other drivers’ movements at a red light. “You gave me my lunch and yours. So I’m on my way. Do you want me to come up or… drop it off? I’m all dirty ‘n everything,” you rambled.
“I think you look hot when you get off of work,” Spencer replied with a smile. He felt himself sigh. He was glad nothing had happened to you.
Your laugh crackled through the line. “That’s because it’s a very physical job, Spence.”
Spencer chuckled, “No, babe, I think you’re just… naturally very attractive.”
“You’re too good for me, Spence. Did you take your medicine? You sound pretty nasally,” you questioned.
“Yeah, I took it,” Spencer replied quietly with a smile on his face. You noticed everything- and Spencer was the profiler! “Anyway, I gotta go, babe. Drive safe, my beautiful wife. I love you.”
“I love you too, husband.”
Spencer tucked his ohone back into his pocket and wandered back out to the bullpen. “Hey, so… I have something to tell you,” Spencer blurted out to Emily and Derek who were watching him like a hawk.
“What is it?” Emily asked immediately, eyebrows furrowing.
“So, I want to apologize for keeping this for so long but I just- I didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, not to mention the fact that you wouldn’t have believed me anyway but that’s not the point. The point is I want you to stay calm and don’t be mad at me.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, kid, slow your roll. What’s goin’ on?” Derek asked.
Spencer looked at both Emily and Derek before sighing. “My wife is gonna be swinging by soon and… she’s… all I’m asking is don’t scare her away. Actually,” Spencer paused, smiling slightly, “she might scare you a little bit.”
Emily’s brows raised higher then Spencer previously thought possible. “You… What?” She asked, standing up.
“You’re actually joking.” Derek stated, face solemn. “You’re joking, man, come on.”
Spencer shrugged, hand coming up to pull the necklace his ring was on from under his shirt to show his coworkers. “We went to the courthouse one year, eleven months. two weeks, four days, and twelve hours ago.”
Derek blinked. “Are- You’re seriously not joking?”
“I have the documents at home to prove it,” Spencer replied, tucking it back under his shirt. “If, you know, you want to see them.”
“I’d rather see her in person,” Emily stated, already starting her pacing. “But like, you didn’t kidnap her or anything did you?”
Spencer shook his head. “No, believe me. She loves me, Emily. I love her.”
Derek sat, hands on his head. “So we missed the wedding and everything? You didn’t say a word, man.”
Spencer nodded. “We were gonna tell you, invite you over for our anniversary.”
“Spencer, what’s her name?” Emily asked suddenly.
“Who’s name?” A low, gravely voice asked. Aaron Hotchner stood, hands on his hips, staring each of his agents down.
“Spencer’s wife’s,” Derek responded slowly.
“Oh,” Hotch replied casually.
“You knew?!” Emily asked loudly, mouth dropped open in shock.
“I saw he added someone else to the insurance, and there was another emergency contact. I haven’t seen her though,” Hotch answered honestly.
“When’s she gonna be here?”
“Soon. She called me probably five minutes ago, so estimating the amount of traffic about this time, I’d guess probably ten minutes.”
“I assume you can find something to do for ten minutes?” The corner of Hotch’s lip turned up just the slightest bit, and he had a hint of amusement in his voice. When Derek finally tore his eyes off of Spencer and Emily bee-lined for her desk, Hotch turned around and stalked over to Rossi’s office to tell him the good news.
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Spencer stood up when he heard the unmistakable sound of your steel-toed boots making comtact with the floor. A sweet smile painted his face as he gravitated to you, shoulders relaxing at your presence. “Hey, baby,” he whispered when he was close enough to you.
“Hi you,” you replied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You brandished a brown paper bag, Spencer’s name written in your handwriting.
Emily watched you walk in. You were wearing two shirts, dark in color with small holes decorating the sleeves and the hem of both shirts. Your pants were dark and thick, dark liquids and stains all over them. The boots on your feet were definitely thick: steel toed if Emily had to guess. A physical worker, she put the pieces together. Electician? That wouldn’t explain all the stains. Mechanic? Couldn’t be: why would your shirts be all torn if you were fixing cars? Welder? The pieces fit, though Emily wasn’t too educated in that department. She had respect for you. Not many women Emily knew could handle the responsibilities of such a physical job, or handle all the creeps, jerks, and perverts that passed in your workplace.
“Derek,” Emily whisper-yelled. He looked up and she gestured to where Spencer had strode over to you.
“Come on.”
Emily stood up, brushing her hands on her pants and followed Derek to where you were conversing.
“-come back? He’s been slacking off too much, baby, you shouldn’t let him keep relying on you to get his stuff done,” Spencer rambled angrily.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Spence. How are you feeling? I brough- oh. Hi,” you greeted.
“Hi! Mrs. Reid, right?” Emily asked, sticking her hand out.
You smiled brightly and nodded. When you saw her hand and showed her your own: “I don’t, uh, think you’d want to do that,” you murmured.
“Doesn’t bother me,” Emily assured honestly.
You returned her genuine smile and clasped her hand. “Thank you. You’re… Emily? Right? And then you’re Derek?” You asked, turning to face Morgan.
“That’s us,” Morgan answered.
“I don’t think Spencer’s brought me up. I’m y/n Reid,” you introduced. “Sorry for all the grime. I came to drop off Spencer’s lunch,” you explained, shooting Spencer a smile, who kept his eyes trained on you the whole time.
“Good to meet you, y/n.” Emily said. “If… if you’re alright with it, I’d like to get the team together. To meet you. If,” she glanced between you and Spencer who was watching you unblinkingly, “that is okay with both of you? I don’t want to push you.”
Derek side eyed Emily. Penelope would probably scare y/n away, even though she didn’t mean to.
“Up to you, baby,” Spencer murmured when you turned to face him.
“Doesn’t bother me,” you answered. Glancing at your Casio, you nodded, “I’ve got an hour.”
“It’ll be fast,” Emily reassured with a smile.
Emily and Derek split up, Emily going up to get Rossi and Hotch, Derek rounding up JJ and Garcia.
“Are you sure, baby?” Spencer asked. He led you to his desk, setting down the bag you gave him. “I don’t- they-“
“Do you want us to do this another day? When I’m not in my work clothes?” You asked, refusing to sit down on anything.
Spencer shook his head. “No, no. I just want you to be prepared. They can be overwhelming.”
“‘Overwhelming’ I hear?”
You turned your head and saw two men and Emily walking towards you both. The younger looking one was Hotchner because you knew David Rossi’s face; him being a famous author and everything.
“Hello! You must be the missus,” Rossi greeted, sticking his hand out. Good lord, you thought, feds and their handshakes.
You showed Rossi your dirt stained hands and opened her mouth.
“We’ve touched dead bodies, y/n. I promise we won’t get upset at a little grease,” Emily explained gently. Good god, you thought.
Regardless, you shook Rossi and Hotch’s hand, grateful for Emily’s reassurance. Spencer wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He leaned in, whispering “You’re doing great, baby.”
“So,” Hotch began, “I want to personally thank you for keeping Reid sane and healthy.”
Emily and Rossi both laughed. “Yeah, he’s got enough trouble on the field,” Emily joked.
You elbowed Spencer, a grin painting your face. “Is that right?”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s right or not: I’ll always come back to you,” Spencer replies softly, eyed swiftly darting to your lips.
“Spencer!” You reprimanded, smacking him (lightly) on the stomach. “Your bosses are right there, you-“
A loud shriek cut you off, making everyone’s gaze dart to a person behind you. “She’s real! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Reid! You didn’t even drop a singular hint that you were hitched!”
Spencer chuckled, pulling your form a little closer to his. “If I remember correctly, JJ saw my ring when I was asleep on the plane: I assumed she had told everyone and you didn’t want to bring it up.”
“For a genius, you’re pretty dumb,” a new voice cut in. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.” The blonde smiled warmly and brought you in for a swift hug.
“Ah! Hello, you gorgeous soul! I’m Penelope!” A shorter blonde, more colorful and energetic, embraced you. “I’m so glad to meet you, even though, you know, I didn’t even knew you existed until about two minutes ago.” She shot your husband a look. “But, I would cery much like to get to know you, as would JJ and Emily if you can’t tell.”
You smiled. “I’d love to now, but seeing as I’m technically on my lunch break, I don’t think I’ll have time to do everything you probably have in mind. Could we,” you turned to Spencer, eyes glinting, “bring them over for dinner?”
“Anything you want, babe,” Spencer replied. Truly, if you had asked him to give you his heart, he would find a way to rip the organ out of his chest and give it to you in his bood stained hands. Dinner? No problem.
“I’ll give you my number. Penelope could make a groupchat or something,” you suggested.
Everyone nodded. Hotch was looking forward to this dinner. And Rossi, no matter what he said.
After you gave Penelope your phone number and everyone dispersed, Emily and Derek were wise enough to go busy themselves with a vending machine.
“You alright, baby?” Spencer asked.
You nodded. “I’m alright. Glad I finally met them. I, uh, hope you’re not mad about the dinner thing.”
Spencer scoffed. “I wouldn’t get mad over that.”
You shrugged. “Well. I should probably head back to work. Sorry for getting you all dirty,” you apologized again, pulling away from Spencer quickly, remembering you were in your work attire.
“It’s alright, baby. ‘M just glad I got to see you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smile forming on your face. “You’ve been awfully sappy lately, Spence. Are you sure you’re alright? I’m seriously considering taking you to a doctor.”
Spencer laughed. “I’m your sap,” he responded casually.
“Okay. Seriously. Stop making me get lost in your eyes because I got to go to work. Bye. I love you,” you babbled, pulling Spencer down to kiss you.
“Bye, wife,” Spencer whispered into your lips.
“Bye, husband.”
898 notes · View notes
desertduality · 8 months
Note
gigs phasmo but the ghost is just confused mumbo jumbo
physically unable to write a snippet so here's a whole oneshot AKJSDKJ I hope you like it!! Personally I had a ton of fun lmao
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The house was nice, as far as haunted locations went. The flowers out front were dead, sure, but that was probably on account of their caretaker being dead as well.
The neighbors had been the ones to call this address in, claiming that although the owner of the property had died quite some months ago, lights frequently turned on and off in the house. The police had been by several times to check for intruders, and had come up empty every time. Finally, some desperate neighbor had given in and called paranormal investigators.
So there they were, Impulse pulling up on the curb just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Prime ghost hunting time, for some reason; Scar hadn’t really paid attention to the science and research when he’d signed up for the job. Besides, the other three had all that handled quite nicely. Scar was just along for the ride. 
“Scar, you know what you’re doing?” Impulse asked, grabbing a flashlight off the wall and clipping his walkie onto his belt. 
“Sir, yes sir!” Scar quipped, scanning the gear for his usual fare. “One paraba-dolical microphone coming up.���
“Grab a thermometer, too,” Impulse suggested, clapping him on the shoulder on his way out of the van. “Let’s try to keep this one clean! The company is running low on cursed items with resurrection abilities.”
“I know for a fact we’ve made the biggest dent in that,” Skizz’s voice crackled out of the walkie, changing to a slight echo as he presumably walked in the house.
“Why do you sound proud of that?” Grian asked, speaking into the radio as he grabbed a salt canister. Scar snickered, reaching over him to grab the thermometer. 
“We’ve got a record going, man! No one can stop us!”
“You have to admire his positivity,” Scar said brightly, clicking his flashlight to make sure it worked. 
“Yeah, I guess he’s got that going for him,” Grian replied, giving a short wave as he left the van. “See you on the inside, Scar.”
Scar gave a jaunty wave, doing one last check on his equipment before starting after him. A voice cut him off before he could leave. 
“Did anyone check the name?” Impulse asked, and Scar turned around to squint at the corkboard, eyes catching on the top. 
Huh. Interesting. 
Scar clicked the talk button on his walkie. “Looks like… Mumbo Jumbo?”
There was a long pause, and Scar almost thought they had missed it somehow. Then the response came.
“Scar,” Grian said, sounding tiredly amused. “If you can’t pronounce it, don’t just make something up.”
“No, It— It literally says Mumbo Jumbo,” Scar replied, glancing up to double check. “Don’t make me waste a photo to prove it. I will, you know I will.”
“Don’t, Scar,” Impulse jumped in, so quickly that the start of his sentence cut out. “We believe you.”
“Get in here before I come and drag you, Face,” Skizz chimed in, and Scar rolled his eyes with a chuckle, stepping out of the van. 
The house was warmer than the air outside, so Scar took that as a sign that someone had gotten to the fuse box. He wandered around with the paradabolic microphone for a few minutes, watching closely for big leaps in the readings. Eventually, Impulse called out from upstairs, claiming that he’d found the room. Scar hurried towards him, making it there just in time to watch him set up the video camera, fiddling with the tripod and muttering complaints about its stability. 
The room was a bedroom, a large bed against one wall and a shelf full of dead plants on the other. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust, but that was pretty usual. Obviously no one had been keeping up with the cleaning.   
“Anyone done spirit box?” Grian asked, and Scar jumped and whirled around, finding him in the doorway. Grian giggled, and Scar huffed. 
“Not yet,” Impulse said, finally getting the tripod to settle. He looked over at them. “Want us to leave?”
“Not really,” Grian grumbled, starting to power up the spirit box. “But yes.”
Scar walked out of the door and Impulse followed him, closing it and leaving Grian in the room alone. Immediately, they heard the telltale singing introduction of Grian beginning to ask questions. The rest of the house was quiet. So far, everything had been entirely unremarkable.
“I’m going to go grab D.O.T.S and a book,” Impulse spoke suddenly, starting to walk away. “Maybe you could start grabbing some stuff for a polty pile?”
“Sure, will do,” Scar said, and started picking up objects from the table in the hallway. A lot of picture frames and spare wires, for whatever reason.
Grian opened the door to the room just as Scar arrived with his arms full, and Scar tilted his head at the odd look on the other’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was wearing a faint frown. 
“What’s wrong?” Scar asked, curious. Normally, Grian came out of a spirit box session with wide eyes and immediately ran to the van. This was out of character.
“I think…” Grian started, contemplative frown getting more pronounced. “I think the ghost apologized to me.”
“...huh?”
“I asked where it was,” Grian said, spirit box slack in his hand. “And then it said something, and then I screamed, and then it— I could have sworn it said sorry. Like, for scaring me.”
“Oh,” Scar said, tilting his head. “Has that happened before?”
Grian shook his head slowly, staring at the spirit box for a minute before exhaling forcefully. “Let’s just keep going,” he said, shoving the device in his pocket. “We still have a job to do.” Then, into his walkie: “We’ve got spirit box, guys. One thing down.”
They kept doing their jobs like they normally would, but none of them could quite shake the sense of something being different.
Usually, the haunted locations they visited had a foreboding sort of feeling to them. They get in and out of those places as soon as possible, the feeling of imminent danger settling on their shoulders like a heavy jacket. There was none of that, here. It was obviously haunted, but it still just felt like... a house. It didn’t feel malicious at all. 
Impulse put a book down, and writing appeared a few minutes later. Just a single sentence, asking if they would water the plants on their way out.
They laid down D.O.T.S and stayed out in the van for a while, eventually seeing a tall, hazy figure pass quickly through. 
They caught ghost orbs on the video surveillance.
Impulse took the Ultraviolet flashlight and found fingerprints on the side of the video camera, like the ghost had been curious about it. 
The salt Grian had placed on the ground was smeared and scattered, almost as if the ghost had slipped on it instead of stepped in it. 
“If we discovered some new type of ghost,” Grian said eventually, muffled through his own hands covering his face, after hours of pouring over the conflicting evidence. “I am going to be upset.”
“None of this makes sense!” Impulse complained, flipping through the research journal that Scar had never touched. He was scowling at the pages like they’d personally offended him. “It won’t even hunt!”
“He seems kinda friendly,” Scar said, staring at the steady line of the EMF reader on the screen. “The poor guy just wants his plants watered. I don’t even have the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn’t help. Those things are dead dead.”
Impulse’s head thunked down on the table in front of him. “We’re so fired.”
In the silence following that statement, Skizz burst into the van, holding an object aloft in celebration.
“I found it!” Skizz yelled triumphantly, the wrinkly figure of the monkey paw clutched in his hand. “It fell behind some boxes. I told you it was here.”
“Oooh,” Scar said, rushing over in excitement. “What should we wish for?”
“A quick death?” Grian said flatly.
Scar waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve had too many of those. It gets kind of boring, believe it or not.”
“Let’s just wish to see it,” Impulse said, heaving himself up from his hunched position by the monitor. “We’ve done everything else we could do, let’s just do it.”
“Sure, why not,” Grian said, shrugging. “Let’s go out in a blaze of glory, then.”
“That’s the spirit!” Skizz laughed, and together the four of them marched back into the house.
The room was exactly as they’d left it, and Impulse took a moment to turn off the D.O.T.S. Then they stood in a loose circle, tense and determined. Whatever was happening here, it would be over soon. One way or the other. Maybe the company wouldn’t even bother to bring them back, this time. 
Skizz held the monkey paw aloft, dim light casting dramatic shadows on his face. “I wish to see the ghost!”
A finger on the monkey paw cracked and groaned as it bent down, and a chill swept across the room, quick and encompassing. Their flashlights flickered, and then died, leaving them in complete darkness. For a long moment, the only sound was their chorus of quick and shaky breathing.
When the lights turned back on, Scar was face to face with a ghost. A ghost that looked equally as startled as he was. 
Scar yelped and stumbled backwards, tripping over the open book on the ground and hurtling towards the bed. The ghost — a tall man with dark hair and an absolutely wonderful mustache — lunged forward and reached out as if to catch him, eyes wide and panicked. To be fair to the dead man, it absolutely would have worked if his hands were still a tangible thing; As it were, his attempt at grabbing Scar to keep him upright was rather rudely foiled by his outstretched hand passing right through Scar’s flailing arm.
Scar hit the bed with a grunt as various cries of alarm sounded out around him, light bouncing around the room haphazardly as the sound of clattering reached his ears; someone had dropped their flashlight, apparently. Scar laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, dazed. 
“Oh gosh! I’m so— I didn’t mean to pop in like that, I—”
Scar looked up just in time to watch a crucifix fly through the air and pass harmlessly through the ghost’s head, hitting the wall with a thud and falling gracelessly to the floor. The ghost yelped and ducked — much too late, not that it mattered, anyway — and Scar’s gaze next landed on Grian, still standing there with his arm extended in a throwing motion, hand empty and eyes wide.
“What was that gonna do, G?!” Skizz asked hysterically, fumbling for his camera, accidentally snapping a picture of his own face and swearing when the light blinded him. 
Impulse had knocked over the tripod in all of the chaos, and was now frantically attempting to set it back upright. The ghost — Mumbo Jumbo — turned his anxious eyes on Scar, who for once was struck speechless, jaw slack. 
“Are you alright, mate?” Mumbo Jumbo asked, hands fidgeting together. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but— Well, you summoned me. There’s only so much to be done for that.”
With everyone else still scrambling about the room, Scar allowed himself a few seconds to process things. Most ghosts they’d come across — all of them, actually — had been nothing less than murderous and bloodthirsty. The cordial ghost of a perfectly normal man was not something they had been trained for, but that didn’t exactly mean that it was impossible. Sure, maybe it had come way, way out of left field, but Scar prided himself on rolling with the punches. He pushed himself up from the bed with a sheepish, charming smile. 
“It’s all good,” Scar said, bright and friendly. “For sure our fault, we summoned you and got surprised when you showed up. Kind of rude of us, I think. Your mattress is super comfortable, by the way.”
Mumbo Jumbo blinked, as if surprised by the onslaught of words, a confused little furrow appearing between his brows. “Thank you?” he said, glancing behind him at the bed. “It was…expensive.”
“I mean, hey! We spend a lot of our lifetime in a bed, right? Might as well shell out some cash for quality.”
“What are we doing?” Grian asked quickly, almost like he was talking to himself, hands pressed to his head in utter bafflement. “This is insane, what is happening.”
“Grian! Don’t be rude,” Scar admonished playfully, then turned back to grin at the ghost. “Mumbo Jumbo, right?”
The man nodded faintly. “Just…Mumbo is fine.”
“Sweet! I’m Scar,” Scar said, and then started pointing to his friends, all standing stock still in various stages of shock and confusion. “The rude one who throws stuff is Grian, that’s Impulse by the window, and over there is Skizz!”
“Nice to meet you?” Mumbo said, glancing around nervously. “I would offer to shake your hand, but…”
“God, this is weird,” Skizz blurted, eyes still wide but starting to relax his stance. “You do know you’re dead, right? We never actually get to ask any of the ghosts we meet.”
“Oh, I— Yeah, I’m well aware,” Mumbo said, laughing a little. “You’ve met other ghosts, then?”
“We’re ghost hunters,” Impulse said, and now that the shock was fading, Scar could see a spark of excitement in his eyes. “But I mean— We’ve never met any like you.”
“Mostly they want to kill us,” Grian said, stepping up next to Scar. “Are you sure you don’t want to kill us?”
“I don’t think I know how, much less want to,” Mumbo said, glancing out the window. “Did someone call you to find me? I’ve been trying not to scare anyone, but I suppose the lights might’ve done me in.”
“Yeah, that was pretty much what tipped them off,” Scar said apologetically. “A few too many weird things happen and boom, here we are.”
“What happens now?” Mumbo asked, chuckling nervously. “I mean, you found me. Job done, yeah?”
“Usually we figure out what type of ghost it is and the company sends out a specialized team to evict it,” Impulse answered, brow pinched in thought. “But normally that’s for safety reasons. You don’t seem like a threat. No offense.”
“Oh, none taken.”
“Can I ask how you died?” Skizz asked, eyes alight with curiosity. 
“Skizz,” Grian hissed. “You can’t just ask people how they died!”
“I was just wondering!”
“No, it’s— it’s fine,” Mumbo stuttered, and Scar had a feeling that if ghosts could blush, he would be doing it. “I… fell down the stairs.”
Scar nodded solemnly. “Could have happened to anyone.”
“So what are we actually going to do about this?” Grian asked, vaguely gesturing at the room. “It feels like it would be wrong to kick this guy out of his own house. He’s not really causing trouble.”
“Yeah, I— I do like my house,” Mumbo interjected, awkward smile on his face. “I’d rather stay, if that’s alright.”
“Someone’s bound to move in eventually, you know,” Skizz said, pitying frown on his face. “There’s already a for sale sign in the yard. The new owners might not be super ghost-friendly.”
Mumbo’s shoulders slumped, a dejected look on his face as he frowned at the floor. Scar felt a pang of sympathy grow in his chest, and he glanced out the window at the rows of houses down the street. 
It really was quite a nice neighborhood. 
“...You know,” Scar started, gaze drifting over to Grian, a slow smile forming on his face. “Our lease is almost up.”
Grian looked over at him, eyes already resigned, and sighed. 
Scar laughed, grinning, and Mumbo slowly smiled back.
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armysantiny · 2 months
Text
A doctor’s worry – Zayne
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P: Zayne x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, drabble | Inc: mc overworking themselves (as usual), Zayne worrying over mc, Yvonne being a good friend, Zayne's sweet tooth, some indulgent fluff for the soul, calling Zayne 'Doctor Li' bc that's how the title works infold, obv don't take my desc of hospital life too seriously lmao | Wc: 718 | W: mc has an injury but no graphic desc. | R: G
Min's notes: When I tell you I was just writing this all day at work lmao. I just love the way Zayne loves </3
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"Hey, Zayne? Do we have the MRI results from last night's case?" Greyson's asking him, both doctors on their way to their respective offices after catching each other in the car park.
"We should do, I'll forward it on to you once I'm inside."
The hospital's busy today, everyone's schedule packed with either meetings, patient appointments, surgeries, or some unholy combination of all three. And for once, Zayne couldn't be more thankful that his schedule is much the same, the gruelling but rewarding hours of his double shift awaiting him.. Sat in his chair while he types out a letter of recommendation for a patient just gone to see a physiotherapist, Zayne sips on the glass of water on his desk, too occupied to do much else other than his job.
At least today, being busy out of his mind helps. It helps him not stress over y/n taking a mission in the No Hunt Zone. The hunter, for all their skill and natural talent, has a mind numbingly stubborn habit of overworking themselves to the point of injury and beyond. Which is why Zayne is trying to bury his concern underneath an avalanche of work, because y/n is working on a sprained ankle.
The doctor even managed to spot the beginning signs of swelling that morning before they left, but y/n was already out the door by the time he opened his mouth.
See you tonight love, they had said, don't push yourself too hard.
How cruel, to remind him to not push himself all the while leaving the vines of worry to bloom around his heart. But he loves y/n anyway, so they're not to blame when Zayne finds that he's no longer frustrated by the waiting, just longing for his hunter to return home so he can fuss over them until the vines relent until the next time they decide to put themselves at risk.
So lost in replying to emails, Zayne nearly doesn't hear the knock at the door, looking up from his screen moments before the knocking becomes more urgent.
"Come in."
"Doctor Li?" It's Yvonne, and Zayne's frigid politeness melts away a tad into something a bit more friendly. "You didn't show up for lunch... so I thought I'd take the liberty of bringing something up from the cafeteria. I recall y/n mentioning your affinity for sweet things?"
It's then, as he's taking the boxed lunch with a gentle thank you, that Zayne notices the separate box of two macarons that Yvonne's handing him. They're from his favourite café. Of course they are. Of course, his love would dutifully tell his colleagues what to do should he be too absorbed in his work. Astra above, he loves them.
When Yvonne leaves, clearly satisfied that the cardiovascular specialist isn't going to go hungry, Zayne allows himself to smile, his own heart fond and aching all the same.
"I'll save one for you."
In between his responsibilities and workload, the doctor hardly realises when the sun begins to set, painting the sky all kinds of pinks and oranges before, inevitably, the sky is dark. Moonlight shines through the gaps in his closed blinds, illuminating his desk in its cool light for a handful of minutes until Zayne is forced to get up and turn the lights on, fluorescent white irritating his eyes for a second. If y/n was here, they'd tell him to squint first, let his eyes adjust until he's comfortable. He can't help but think about them now, most of his tasks done for the day and his mind free enough to think about his lover, how much he misses them, would rather they stay in his arms, stay off their injury and rest...
His phone rings.
"Hello." His expression is soft.
"Zayne! Sorry for going no contact love," y/n says, clearly satisfied with their day. They're forgiven, as always. "I'm on my way back to the office, I'll see you in the hour?"
"Sure. I'll come and pick you up, you shouldn't be putting anymore strain on your ankle."
He can practically hear the amused rolling-of-eyes from y/n.
"Yes doctor~ see you soon! Love you!"
"Love you too, y/n." He hangs up the phone and takes a good look at his office. He can afford to leave a little early tonight.
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© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025
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soobnny · 2 years
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eighteen — kim seungmin.
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trope. best friends to lovers. college au. slow burn. angst. fluff.
synopsis. it takes you a while to realize being known is being loved, and kim seungmin just so happens to be an expert in the study of you.
word count: 19.8k words
warnings. just extreme slow burn. some curse words. sexual jokes. drinking and being intoxicated. 
note. again my self indulgent take on seungmin in college :)
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one.
Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your phone every chance he gets. So, it really isn’t anything new to wake up to a million notifications from your best friend.
The range of apps from which he bothers you is astronomical.
(Instagram): _seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread lmao this video reminded me of u cos ure an idiot
(Tiktok): seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread us
(Twitter): seungmin replied to your tweet: I’m hungry can u reply to my messages
But nothing, absolutely nothing, can beat the 56 messages and 9 missed calls on your phone. You’d think it was an emergency if not for his last message, shining brightly through your screen.
minnie: i need a new face wash come with me so i can shut up about it 😡
You roll your eyes to yourself, skimming through the notifications on your lock screen without really opening them. It’s mostly just a series of Seungmin asking you if you were awake every hour with a few whining in between about how he’s bored and how you need to wake up. 
While you’re laughing at his overdramatic messages (has he been hanging out with Hyunjin too much these days?), you accidentally unleash a storm upon yourself.
You hadn’t meant to click on one of the notifications, and now a taunting “read” is on the bottom of his messages.
Big mistake.
All hell is about to break lose.
The moment Kim Seungmin receives the small indication that you’re finally awake, his face flashes on your screen almost immediately in a Facetime call. It’s tempting to decline his call in favor of burying your face back into your pillows, but the clock reads 11am and you have an annoying best friend that needs your attention. You know never to ignore Seungmin. You’ve learned that the hard way.
Swiping on accept, his head of fluffy hair pops up on your screen. “Finally! What took you so long?” His phone angle shifts so his face shows now – it seems like he’s outside as he’s looking left and right before crossing somewhere. 
“Sleeping.” You rub your eyes, propping your phone against a box of tissues so he can see you while you fix your bed. 
“Didn’t wanna wake up cause you were dreaming of me?” You can hear the laughter in his voice.
Appropriately, you respond by gifting him your middle finger. “You wish.”
“Did you sleep well?” You hum in response even though you doubt he could hear you amidst the noise outside and the shuffling of your bedsheets. “What did you need?” You grab your phone from your nightstand, walking towards your refrigerator to get a glass of water. 
“Face wash. You’re coming with me. Oh, and bring an umbrella, it’s drizzling a little.”
“Gonna have to raincheck.”
Second big mistake.
“Why?” He drawls his question, whining and pushing his phone deeper towards his face so you can see his visible disapproval at your response.
“Seungmin, I just woke up. It’s gonna take me forever to get ready, and you’re already outside.” 
There’s a lack of response from his end after a few seconds. When you look back at your phone screen, he seems preoccupied. “Minnie?” 
“Wait, wait. I have to hang up, give me a second.”
You tilt your head in confusion, but you don’t say anything else. This was a rare moment when you got to escape from Seungmin’s evil clutches of always dragging you along when he goes out. Looking through your closet for a change of clothes after you shower, you jump at the sudden and very rushed pounding on your door.
You should’ve known better.
Opening the door, a breathless Seungmin slips past the space before pushing your door closed. “Why was Crazy Karen on shift today?” He falls face first on your couch, still heaving after the cardio he’d done to sprint towards your unit. 
Seungmin’s been quite the expert at sneaking into your very ‘strict with visitors’ building. Not only has he befriended Derek (the security guard on duty when it wasn’t Karen), he’s gone through every possible entrance and has mastered the way to your door. He’s been doing it for the past three years, to the point you’re convinced he could navigate his way around blindfolded. 
Funnily enough, he was basically a criminal in your building. Karen (Crazy Karen, as Seungmin likes to call her) has been trying to catch him for forever. You’re convinced that one more push from Seungmin and she’d be printing flyers with his face on it with a clear “BANNED” message in red bold font and taping it on the walls of your building. 
Seungmin’s been able to escape her for months now. Though, despite being an expert vigilante, he still has his lapses. And today, he hadn’t been aware that Karen was on duty. “(Name), she hates me!” 
“She hates everyone.” You deadpan. Seungmin’s always found it disturbing that Karen didn’t like him. He was an angel in everyone’s eyes – your parents, Derek the security guard, your professors, your friends. If only they knew better. 
With the thousands of people that adore him, Seungmin doesn’t know why Karen was such a tough egg to crack. Maybe she knew better, that your best friend is the devil incarnate, but the devil incarnate that you adore. 
“How’d you get here so quickly? Wait… were you already on your way here before I picked up your call?” You ask pointedly, leaning against the wall and furrowing your eyebrows at Seungmin who still hasn’t left your couch, instead making himself comfortable by draping his legs across the armrest and hugging your throw pillow to his chest.
“Yes, cause you were ignoring me!” The pout on his face is so exaggerated, you would’ve smacked it off if you didn’t have the biggest crush on him.
“I wasn’t ignoring you. I was sleeping!”
“Tomato, tomato. Same thing.” 
You concede the argument with a sigh because God forbid he lost an argument to you. “Anyways, (name).” He’s whining again, staring at you while you skim through your clothes. “I’m so hungry, I could eat your couch.”
“You do you, I guess.” 
“Do you hate me?”
“Only sometimes.” 
This was the funny thing about your friendship with Seungmin. From an outsider’s perspective, they would’ve sworn you two disliked each other – from your pointed responses and backhanded comments towards one another. However, through the lens of your shared friends, they knew you completed each other. Nobody (aside from Minho, and occasionally Jeongin) could match your best friend’s personality quite well, and absolutely nobody could get him as soft as you could. It’s reserved for your eyes only.
Chan jokes around that Seungmin should never drive you away because he’s finally found someone who gets along with him terribly well aside from them. He agrees, but he would never outwardly admit it out loud to his friends or to you. But deep down, he knows that you two understand every inch of each other like you’re a reflection of one another.
With that said, he wouldn’t want to spend his time buying face wash with anyone else. 
When he suddenly gets off the couch, you look at him suspiciously. He’s walking in your direction now, beaming with his eyes squinting and lips curving up and hair falling perfectly on his forehead – he looks so cute that your heart starts feeling something you can’t quite identify. “(Name).” 
“Seungmin.” He grabs your hands without warning and your heart catapults out of your chest.  
“Come with me to buy face wash and we can eat lunch together. Please please, cause I’m your best friend and you can’t say no to me.” Seungmin defends his case like a lawyer desperate to win. 
He leans in impossibly closer to your face as a vindictive tactic to get you to say yes, and you’re embarrassed to admit it’s working. You tell yourself you’re only agreeing so he would stop fiddling with your fingers with his perfectly crafted hands and looking at you with his stupid, pretty eyes. 
“Fine, now let go of me so I can get a change of clothes. Besides, aren’t you like the number one Touch Hater anyway?”
Seungmin smiles triumphantly to himself, slipping his hands from yours. “How narcissistic of you to think you’re the only one I enjoy holding. I like Kkami too! And Soonie, and Doongie–”
“Why am I being classified with your friends’ pets?” 
Kim Seungmin doesn’t admit that you’re the only person he likes to hold. Instead, he shrugs and pushes you towards your bathroom so you could hurry up and he can finally buy his face wash. 
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two.
The next time Kim Seungmin blows up your notifications is after you’ve just finished your last class of the week.
He’s already waiting for you outside your building, leaning against a lamp post and scrolling through dog videos on Tiktok with a few quokka appearances.
The algorithm confuses Seungmin in that it’s so fast to pick up the videos you’ve liked – even if it was just one. He’s pretty sure he’s only getting these rather abundant quokka videos because Jisung had borrowed his phone once and probably liked a Tiktok. Now it’s everywhere to the point that Seungmin could probably tell you at least 5 facts about them.  
He’s been standing there for a good 10 minutes now. He has given up on texting you to ask when your classes end (he reasons your professor must have overtime again), instead just adding a shit ton of videos to his “dog” collection on Tiktok.
When you exit the building with some of your blockmates, you feel your heartbeat pick up its pace at the sight of Seungmin in his oversized gray Dodgers hoodie (one of your personal favorites to steal) and some light washed pants with his cute smile and messy hair.
He looks a little embarrassed, as if he wants the earth to swallow him up right then and there. You suppose it’s because he’s been standing there awkwardly, having to look at people in the passing while waiting for you.
Once you appear though, the embarrassment fizzles away and Seungmin is making his way towards you with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie.
“One more overtime and I’m gonna have to report that professor.”
“You’re just saying that cause you’re impatient and you hate having to wait for five minutes.”
“10 minutes. I waited ten minutes today.” You laugh at the boy, attention wavering when your friends bid their goodbyes to you and Seungmin. You wave politely, and Seungmin mimics you, smiling sheepishly and waving back.
You know they’re tripping over themselves after Seungmin smiles and waves back at them. You’ve been told multiple times by your blockmates that your best friend looks like a walking dream – the campus crush from the International Law and Legal Studies building.
You don’t disagree, it’s not exactly like you were blind. Every time you’d walk with Seungmin anywhere, he was bound to get some attention from the people around you.
There are multiple admirers lining up for your best friend, shaking as they make their way up to him just to say ‘hi’ or purposely standing near him during college events. It also doesn’t help that his whole friend group were the campus crush from their respective majors.
Too bad for your blockmates and the multiple people lining up willing to donate their kidneys though. Seungmin doesn’t care much about anything and anyone outside his carefully selected circle.
He’s polite, smiling back and waving and holding small conversations but there’s always a hint of disinterest when they’d try to keep the conversation longer than he’d like. He isn’t stupid and knows there’s always an ulterior motive to get with him. He knows how easy it is to mistake politeness for interest.
“Come on, I want coffee.” How demonic is it to have a friend who’s convinced he’s Bill Gates’ son with the amount of times he’s asked you to eat out.
Seungmin pushes you forward by placing a hand on the small of your back, his other hand clutching his messenger bag, guiding you to walk ahead along the sidewalks of your university.
He makes sure you’re on the safer side of the road, bumping you to move to the side.
You stop in your tracks, shaking your head at the boy and he looks at you with utter confusion. “I’m not coming with you to buy overpriced coffee. I’ve used up all my allowance for the week.”
“Waited for you for ten minutes just to be rejected. Ouch.”
“Sucks to be you.”
You’re about to say your goodbye to your best friend, heels shifting to walk the other way when his hand easily wraps around your wrist, pulling you back to where he’s stood. You slap his hand away, pointing an accusatory finger at his direction. “You are not gonna convince me. Not again.”
Screw him and his large hands and how easy it is for him to maneuver them back around your wrist to keep you in place. “I’ll pay, just come with me.”
You surrender in an instant. Who were you to pass on free coffee?
Seungmin smiles victoriously when you start walking by his side again before his face falls in a pout, going off in a tangent about how you’re only willing to hangout with him if he’s paying and how he’s too young to be your sugar daddy.
You sigh in relief when you reach the campus coffee shop, the strong aroma of coffee immediately filling your senses as Seungmin breathes out in delight.
Going straight to the counter, he orders himself an Iced Americano before turning to look at you. “Just the usual?” You nod your head, moving away to find a seat for the both of you.
Every time you’re in a coffee shop (which is, a lot), you’re reminded of the first time you met Seungmin.
He was working part time at a coffee shop, trying to save some money for college and you were merely a customer. He had accidentally knocked the - thankfully, cold - coffee all over you. In compensation, he begs for your order again so he could make it for free.
He still knows your coffee order by heart up until today.
Taking both of your orders, Seungmin moves to settle back to wherever you’re seated when he spots Jisung and Changbin sitting at your table as well.
He should’ve known they’d be here today – they practically lived on coffee. Seungmin supposes this is what double majoring in Music Management and with Music Theory and Composition looks like.
“Not you two again.” Seungmin fakes exasperation, standing by Jisung who’s seated next to you before shooing him away, claiming that Jisung was in his spot. Jisung simply smirks knowingly before shuffling towards the seat next to Changbin.
“So, I have a funny story.” When Changbin speaks up, Jisung is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth.
“We don’t have a funny story.” He counters Changbin’s claim pointedly, shaking his head and glaring at his best friend.
But who could open up a topic and not proceed around Seungmin? He’ll pull up every piece of blackmail he has on his phone, appropriately labeled “to use against friends” and start threatening you. Absolutely no one can escape Seungmin, and that’s how you find Changbin telling the story of how someone had kissed Jisung and when she pulled away, all he did was say “thank you”.
“Who says that after kissing someone?” Your laughter triggers a smile on Seungmin’s face, too busy observing you to make fun of Jisung. He’ll save that for later when you walk home together. For now, the sight of you laughing is too enchanting to look away from.
Jisung, on the other hand, ignores your question. He’s already embarrassed enough.
“I don’t know! I was nervous! My brain doesn’t work sometimes, you know?” Jisung’s running his hand through his hair in frustration, desperately trying to defend himself, hands moving inanimately while speaking.
“Your brain doesn’t work all the time.” Seungmin retorts and the boy pouts at his younger friend.
“Can we talk about something else?”
You, in fact, do not talk about anything else much to Jisung’s dismay. On your way back home, Changbin brings it up again after jokingly kissing Jisung’s cheek and saying “thank you” right after.  
A heavy arm swings around your shoulder, Seungmin pulling you towards him as he lets his other friends be with their teasing. You look up at your best friend, shifting your attention back to the ground when you meet his gaze.
You’re walking slightly ahead of the two boys, and Seungmin’s just asking you how your day was. He always does this. Every time he walks you back to your building, he’d always ask how your day went.
This might have stemmed from your first and only huge argument – when you kept your feelings to yourself because you didn’t want to be a bother to him. Seungmin’s made sure to create a comfortable space for you to vent to him ever since.
When you talk, Seungmin listens attentively. You don’t know if you love or hate it. It’s a little difficult to recount what happened in your day when he’s looking at you like that. Seungmin may tease you a lot, but you know he cares a lot and one of his ways of showing that is by listening to you.
Your quiet conversation is cut short when the two boys catch up with you, Jisung’s eyes narrow at Seungmin while he walks backward so he’s in front of Seungmin. “How come you like touching (name) and not us?”
“Don’t say it like that, you sound like a perv.” Changbin smacks the back of his head and Jisung giggles when his choice of words dawn on him.
“Sorry. I mean, how come you’re not disgusted to initiate physical contact with her! What about me?”
(Because I like her, Seungmin thinks but doesn’t actually say).
Instead, Seungmin smirks, keeping his arm around you before teasing his older friend. “Aw, is our Jisung getting jealous? Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand once we drop (name) off.”
“Actually?” Jisung beams at what Seungmin says and he halts his steps, instead walking forward with his hand outstretched towards where Seungmin’s standing.
“No, fuck off! I was kidding!” You laugh when Seungmin detaches himself from you so he can properly run away from Jisung who’s desperate to hold the young boy’s hand.
It’s in moments like these, when the feeling of his arm around your shoulder still lingers, and Jisung’s words echo in your head (why does he only hold you?), and Changbin’s nudging your side knowingly, that makes you think.
Could you possibly mean something more to Seungmin? The way that he means to you?
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three.
Apart from your notifications, Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your ears. 
You hear him before you see him. Winter seems startled at the sudden screech of your name from the other side of the street, laughing quietly to herself when she spots Seungmin running at you in full speed. She pays no mind when Seungmin latches himself around you, waving at her after finding a comfortable spot to rest his chin (on top of your head). 
“That felt like it came out of a movie.”
You’re still waiting for your food with Winter by the food truck. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind the wait. Despite learning over the years that he was impatient and usually annoyed at anyone and everything that made him wait, he’s also come to realize that he doesn’t mind the wait when it comes to you. Why else would he wait for you despite your professor being well known for always going past his allotted time? 
He couldn’t do that for anyone else. 
“What are your plans after here?” Seungmin directs the question towards the both of you, slowly unhooking himself from around you to look at the menu of the food truck. 
“Might go to the mall and buy some airpods.” Winter mumbles, pulling her bucket hat down in embarrassment as Seungmin stares at her in disbelief. “Wow. You said that as if you’re just buying a pencil or something.”
“No! What happened is that… I thought I left my airpods in my mom’s car. But look at this.” She pulls out her phone, showing the notification that said ‘French fries (the name of her airpods) is far from the user’. “So I think I must’ve left it on the plane when I was coming back here from the academic break.” 
Winter’s pouting now at the thought of her upcoming big purchase. “I can’t survive without them. How am I supposed to tune everyone out?” 
“Order for Winter.” The conversation is cut abruptly by the man at the food truck with your orders. You break out in a smile at the sight of the food, taking it from Winter and whispering a quick ‘thank you’. 
“Spending money is so easy, but saving feels like a war.” Winter adds before she smells her food, mirroring the smile on your face and taking a bite out of the hard-shell taco she ordered. Seungmin looks around for a place to sit, spotting a bench not too far. “Come on, you girls need to sit.”
Ever the gentleman, Seungmin carries your drinks for you while you eat your food and walk to the bench he had spotted. Taking your seats, Winter pats your thigh and nods her head. “You got yourself a good one. I approve.” 
You’re confused for a moment before you feel the heat creep up from your neck to your entire face. Thank God Seungmin didn’t hear Winter implying that she approved of him as your boyfriend. If he did, he pretended not to hear.
However, he isn’t blind and can see your impossibly red face in abruptness.
“Woah, do you need something to drink?” He grabs his water bottle from his bag, unscrewing the cap and nudging it to your general direction. You gratefully take it from him, chugging down his water to try and cool yourself down. Winter all but giggles, pretending she didn’t almost trigger you to choke down on your food. 
The next few minutes are spent in silence with you and Winter savoring your food and Seungmin scrolling through his phone to check if he had any deadlines he missed. One of his hands rests naturally on your thigh, as if it was the most normal thing. 
When Winter finishes her food, she abruptly gets up from her seat, facing the both of you. “I’m gonna get going now so I can buy the airpods and wallow in my dorm until I fall asleep.” Your face scrunches up in amusement, nodding your head and getting up from your seat to give her a quick hug. “Take care! Text me when you get home.”
“I hope you get me for Secret Santa this year!” Seungmin earns a soft punch from Winter at his side comment before she’s off to the mall. Seungmin’s quick to pull you back down on the bench when Winter leaves, scooting so there’s almost no space between the two of you. 
“Do you have plans after here?” You hum, trying to think if you needed to be somewhere. Chewing down on your bottom lip, you shake your head. “I don’t think so.” 
“Good. You’re eating dinner with me. And don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking. We’re just going to the cafeteria on campus. I’m not gonna rob you off of your allowance.” You laugh in approval, taking another bite down your taco before tilting your body so you’re facing Seungmin, offering some up to your best friend.
“You want some?” You find he’s staring somewhere else instead of the food you had pushed up to his face. Trying to follow his gaze, you tilt your head with wide, doe-eyes before looking back to see if there was something behind you. “What are you looking at?”
Seungmin clears his throat, snapping out of his daydream. “Nowhere. Just…” You’ve never seen Seungmin this hesitant before. He’s pulling at the sleeves of the green sweater he’s wearing, looking around before he fixes his gaze on you again. 
Without warning, he sticks his thumb out to wipe something at the corner of your lips. 
“You had some sauce on your lips.” He’s looking straight ahead now, avoiding your eyes, as if he didn’t just leave you dumbfounded. “Close your mouth. You look like a fish.” Only then do you realize your lips have parted a little at his sudden actions. 
And then, just like Winter, he abruptly gets up. You don’t notice the redness at the tip of his ears when he leans down to pinch your cheeks. “Jeongin says he needs me. I’ll meet you for dinner, okay?” 
You don’t tell him you know that Jeongin’s still in class right now.
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four.
When you arrive, Kim Seungmin is already there, waving you over to where he’s seated. 
It’s packed, as usual, filled with college kids that lived in the dorm areas around the campus. However, Seungmin still finds a seat for the both of you. 
Slipping past numerous sleep-deprived college kids, you make your way to your best friend. He greets you with a quick side hug before he’s pushing the best selling mango shake of your cafeteria in your direction. “Oh my god, they weren’t sold out?” 
Every student in your university knows that The Sunshine Harvest’s mango shake was the best drink ever made in mankind. It’s the stall with the longest line in your cafeteria which explains why it always sells out so fast. Everyone would rush to the cafeteria after their last class just to buy a cup – and it was budget friendly. You’ve long given up on buying one (after months) as your schedule never lined up to when there were still some left. You complained about it all the time to Seungmin.
“It wasn’t sold out when I got there. Probably is now.” He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant even though your smile is tipping him over the edge. 
All you did was smile, and Seungmin’s forgotten everything he’s supposed to say or do. It was definitely worth waiting in line for 30 minutes, he concludes.
Happily sipping on your shake, you ask Seungmin if you should start lining up at the food stalls to get dinner. He simply nods his head, telling you to go ahead so he could look after your seats while you search for what you want to eat. Seungmin takes the small time he has alone to calm down.
Then, he receives a phone call from you.
“Do you want pizza?”
“Pizza’s fine.”
“Okay, I’ll buy us pizza.”
“When you finish ordering, just come here and give me the receipt, okay? I’ll wait for it.”
“Minnie, you’re quite literally the most impatient man on this planet. I can do it.” 
“And you had a long day of classes today. Get your ass back here.” 
Within minutes, you’re back at your seat and Seungmin’s sitting you down, taking the receipt from your hands. “Good girl.” He ruffles your hair, dropping his hand right after to squish your pouting cheeks before he’s off to wait for your pizza. 
You drop your head on the table immediately after he leaves. Something in the way he said ‘good girl’ has your heart racing, and you can hear him tell you the table’s dirty but you cannot function at the moment so your face takes the consequence of Seungmin’s words. 
Moments later, Seungmin returns with your pizza, setting it down on the table before taking his seat across from you. There’s still steam blowing from the pizza from how recent it was baked, and you hear your stomach grumble at the sight. You start to fiddle with your fingers, contemplating whether you should wait for it to cool down or grab a slice right now. 
It looks so tempting to take a bite off.
“Don’t.” Before you can even proceed with your devious plan, you feel Seungmin flick your forehead as if he knows what you’re thinking. It’s because he does. Seungmin has memorized your body language. He knows you want to take a slice, and he also knows it’s still hot, and your tongue’s gonna burn, and you’re going to regret it. You slump back in your seat in defeat. 
Seungmin considers himself a genius when it comes to the study of you. While was a stellar student in his school subjects, nothing will come close to the extent of knowledge he has on you. He’s learned about you for years, to the point he thinks he might know you better than he knows himself. He can read you like an open book – his open book. He knows that when the tip of your ears turn red, it means you’re angry. He knows you fiddle with your fingers when you’re bored. He knows you’re one of the few people who puts milk before the cereal (he’s sworn to keep that secret safe with him). 
If Seungmin were to write his thesis paper about you, he was sure he’d get a perfect mark. He’s been unknowingly tucking little things he loved about you in his heart, which is why he waited those thirty damn minutes just to buy you that stupid mango shake that you loved so much. 
He’s looking at you now, staring intensely at the pizza as if it'll cool down faster if you sent it a threatening glare. He smiles to himself, where you can’t see, and he thinks – “Wow, I really really like her.” And for a moment, he thinks he’s brave enough to say it out loud, but seconds turn into minutes and the moment passes. Instead, he chooses to roll up the wrapper from your straw and flick it at you to get your attention and tell you it’s okay to eat your pizza now. 
And you smile, immediately going in to take a slice. You smile, and Seungmin thinks he never wants to go a day without seeing you smile. He forgives himself for not being able to tell you how he feels right now. He thinks he still has time. He still has so much time in the world to confess to you.
“It’s still hot. Careful, okay?” You take a bite and immediately wave a hand in front of your mouth from the heat. He laughs at your eagerness to finish the pizza despite its temperature and he reaches to grab his own slice. 
Seungmin wishes he can spend all his dinners like this.
It isn’t long before Seungmin’s walking you home. Despite living in the dorms within campus, he still pushes to walk you back to your building that’s a little outside of the campus. “I’ll walk you home. Come on.” 
On the way back, you spot the campus cats and dogs. You squeal at the sight of them, immediately crouching down and calling at them to come to where you and Seungmin are. The cats come mewling by your feet. Seungmin mirrors you and crouches down to pick one up in his arms, checking their collars and cooing audibly. “Hello, mushroom.” 
“Oh, she’s so cute.” You stand back up to pet the little kitten in Seungmin’s arms. She reminds you of one of Minho’s cats. Minho would love her. And then, you gasp. You spot the cutest golden retriever puppy, scratching at his collar. Seungmin puts the kitten down to follow you towards where the puppy’s sitting.
“Hello there…” You take a quick glimpse at his collar. “Fang. What a cute name.” You speak in a soft voice, lifting him up gently in your arms. Fang seems to immediately melt in your touch the moment you pick him up and give him some head rubs. 
Mushroom’s meowing in jealousy when Seungmin gives his attention elsewhere. 
“Want me to rub your back? Or give you some belly rubs?” You smile sweetly, moving your hard towards his back and moving your fingers along his fur. “Minnie. Do you ever think about how easy it is to steal them?” 
He laughs at your proposition, giving it a thought. “Maybe sometimes. I’m already a criminal in your building. Might as well be a criminal on campus too.” Seungmin joins you to rub behind Fang’s ears, a smile creeping up on his face.
“It’s getting late. We’re gonna have to go.” Seungmin says gently and you pout as you put the boy down. “I wish I could put you in my bag and take you home. You’re such a good boy.” You bid your goodbye to the puppy before letting him down. 
“That just made my entire day.” You say to no one in particular as you wave one last time to the cats and dogs who go back to playing amongst themselves.
On the rest of the way back, Seungmin complains about Minho and his Criminal Law professor, and you talk about the long list of long tests and quizzes you have lined up for next week. Conversation with Seungmin always comes so easy. And when he sees your building, he makes it a point to slow down his pace so you can finish your story about the time Ryujin put red dye in Chaeryeong’s shampoo bottle. And he listens. 
With you, it’s easy to forget time. 
You finish your story just in time. Seungmin won’t tell you he tried to time it perfectly so you wouldn’t be interrupted while you happily shared the story. 
“Goodnight idiot. Don’t pull another all nighter.” As usual, Seungmin’s fingers find their way to pinch your cheeks before pushing you towards the glass doors of your building. You laugh when you notice Seungmin’s eyes brighten at the sight of Derek, and he immediately sends a wave to his favorite security guard which Derek happily returns.
“Goodnight. Walk home safely!” 
On the way back to his dorms, Seungmin’s phone buzzes from the pocket of his jeans. It's a notification from Jeongin.
(Instagram): maknaeontop mentioned you in a comment: @_seungmin isnt this u with yn LOL
The post reads: “I’ll walk with you” is just an excuse to spend more time with someone before they go and that’s romantic as fuck.
Seungmin rolls his eyes and locks his phone before shoving it in the pockets of his jeans. How convenient is Jeongin’s timing to tag him in that post after he just walked you home.
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five.
Kim Seungmin also enjoys complaining a lot. Despite being the one to offer his help, he’s holding up quite an attitude while he’s carrying your laundry to the laundry shop.
You were simply just texting each other, and you happened to tell him you were going to be doing your laundry today, and how you were dreading the long walk while carrying your shit ton of dirty clothes. That’s how you find Kim Seungmin waiting for you outside your building, taking his sweet time glaring at Karen. 
“Seungmin in the building!” His arms are open when he greets you and you fall into them in an instant. Seungmin rarely offers to hug you first so you take the moment to wrap your arms around him and stay in his embrace. Although, his enthusiasm doesn’t hold though when he’s carrying two bags of laundry on each of his shoulders and you’re walking to the laundry shop together. 
“You seriously didn’t have to do this.”
“You would’ve suffered from extreme shoulder and back pains, and I would’ve had to hear about it for the rest of the day. I’m doing myself a favor.” 
You roll your eyes and the conversation falls silent. A comfortable silence. 
You take the moment to look Seungmin over. He’s just wearing a white shirt and some sweatpants, and yet he looks like the most beautiful person on the planet. That’s Seungmin for you. He could wear anything and make it work. 
Fuck, he’s an alarm clock, and you’re so dazed by the way his hair looks like fluffy auburn under the sun, and how the outline of his chest is easy to see through his white shirt, and how his muscles are flexing from the weight of the bags he’s carrying. Since when did he start going to the gym? Was he always this tall? 
He looks painfully dashing and you’re unaware that you’ve made it to the laundry shop until Seungmin’s snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “Huh, wait. Sorry.” You flush in embarrassment at being caught daydreaming.
“Lost you for a second there.” 
You immediately get to work. You’ve already separated your clothes prior to coming here, so you begin to pour two caps of laundry detergent into the washer. Seungmin mirrors your actions so you can finish your laundry earlier. Pile by pile, you start adding your clothes to the washer and push the knob to turn it to normal cycle setting. 
While waiting, you and Seungmin simply sit on the floor and lean against the wall, staring at the washer with your head resting on his shoulder and your legs outstretched on the ground. 
You wonder when you should do your groceries. Maybe on Tuesday after your 1pm long test? You don’t think you have anything else to do on that day. Has Seungmin finished doing his groceries or would he want to come with you? You think he has a full day of classes on Tuesday. 
“What’s on your mind?”
“Huh, what?” You pull your head away from his shoulder, and Seungmin regrets asking what’s on your mind. It’s too late to double down though. 
“You were chewing on your lips. Assumed you were deep in thought.” You don’t know how chewing your lips has anything to do with being deep in thought. Have you always chewed down on your lips when you were thinking of something? Seungmin curses himself for letting that slip out so easily. 
“Just thinking about when I should do my groceries.” Seungmin quickly dismisses the topic in fear of his feelings being caught. It doesn’t seem like you want to talk much about groceries either. So, you fall back in your comfortable silence and your head is back on his shoulder and a smile instantly crawls its way to Seungmin’s lips while he leans his head on yours. 
“Why does it seem like it’s taking longer than usual?” You whine, staring at the washer with your eyes squinted a little. You look at the clock to see how much time has passed by and then back at the washer as if it’d speed up if you did. “Yeah, I’m tired of hanging out with you.” 
Seungmin’s head falls when you pull your own head back to stick your tongue out at him. He just chuckles at you, linking his arm around you so he can pull you back. “Come back. I was comfortable.” He wraps an arm around you so he can push your head back on his shoulder and your heart skips a beat when he nuzzles his head against yours once again. 
“Shouldn’t have said you were tired of hanging out with me then.” You mumble, afraid that your voice would quiver if you spoke any louder. Seungmin simply dismisses you with a wave of his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.”
Time always moves faster when you’re actually enjoying the moment because a few minutes pass and the washer stops, and now you have to take your clothes out and place them in the dryer. 
Seungmin stays, telling you he’d help with folding up your clothes and bringing them back to your building – which is exactly what he does when the dryer finishes. And somehow, folding your clothes has turned into a competition between the two of you when he’s claiming he can fold much more than you can. 
He wins.
“It’s just because you have big hands!” 
“Your argument makes no sense.” 
“It does so! See, see. Look.”
You lift your hand mid-air, explaining to him why more work can be done with less effort if you have big hands compared to having smaller hands. It’s like walking less steps when you have longer legs. You’re not sure you’re making sense yourself, and you’re definitely not sure how to function when Seungmin reaches to meet his hand with yours. 
His hands are big.
“You do have tiny baby hands. Are your hands smaller than Felix’s?” The moment feels way too intimate for you. While you’re just comparing hand sizes, it's the warmth of his hands that catch you off guard and the feeling that you wouldn’t mind feeling his hand like this every day.
Seungmin thinks about how easy it’d be to just intertwine your hands together.
“Uh… I don’t know. We’ll have to see.” You instantly pull your hand back, packing your folded clothes back in your bags. You don’t know why your face won’t stop smiling at what just happened so you bury your head deep into the bags so Seungmin can’t see how red your cheeks are. 
“They’re definitely smaller. You don’t have to check.”
Seungmin doesn’t admit either that he doesn’t want you to press your hand against Felix’s like you did with his. 
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six.
Even when you’re not together physically, he still finds a way to annoy you. 
“That’s what phones are made of!” He explains over the phone while you’re grocery shopping. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind that his only view in your Facetime call is your double chin and the piles of food behind you. 
“What are you doing grocery shopping on a Sunday anyway? Isn’t this your sleeping day?” He says as if it was a matter-of-fact. “There are no rules stating I can’t grocery shop on a Sunday.” You deadpan before grabbing a bottle of shampoo from the shelves. 
The old lady looks at you like you’re crazy and you blush in embarrassment, pulling your cart away and moving to another section of the shop. It must look like you’re talking to yourself.
“You’re stressed, aren’t you?” Seungmin shifts from his position so he’s sitting up and he can hear you better which catches your attention. “So maybe I am a little.” You grab some toilet paper before you start to walk to the frozen section. 
“You know you can talk to me, right? I’m always here to carry the weight with you.” You smile at the rare words of affirmation from your best friend. It was never his love language. He showed his affection through his acts of service, so you appreciate that he’s lowering down his teasing to genuinely comfort you while you’re stressed.
“I know. It’s just…” So you talk to him. 
You rant to your best friend while you’re walking around the grocery store, and while numerous other old ladies and men look at you like you need to seek psychiatric help. You tell him about your blockmates and how they rarely put in work during group projects and activities. Seungmin knows it’s bothering you more than ever now since exams are nearing. That meant so were a shit ton of project deadlines. 
“Need me to talk to them?” You laugh, dismissing him while you examine the ice cream flavors available. “That’s just embarrassing for me. Though, I’ll admit they’d be scared shitless if The Kim Seungmin scolded them.” You lean down to pick up the Rocky Road tub for yourself and a Mint Choco for Seungmin.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m all that. I’m just… Minnie.” Your heart warms at how he uses your nickname for him. “And I’m serious. I  won’t hesitate talking to them if you need someone to knock some sense into them.” Your best friend scoffs at the thought of your group mates and the unnecessary amount of stress they’re putting you in.
“It’s alright. I’ll handle them. Do you need anything?” Your grocery list has long been crashed out and discarded in your pocket, now just looking around to see if there was anything else you could fit in your budget. 
“Do you think you can get me some eggs?” You hum, moving towards where the dairy products are. “Just one carton?” You ask, skimming through them before grabbing a dozen upon Seungmin’s approval. 
When he tells you he doesn’t need anything else, you move to fall in line so you can pay for your groceries. Only then do you realize that Seungmin’s wearing the fuzzy socks you got for him a few Christmases back. 
“I thought you threw those out.” 
“Hm?” Seungmin asks you to clarify.
“The socks I gave you as a gift.”
“I would never! They’re my happy socks. Also, wasn’t this the Christmas when you received that Ghibli inspired night light?” 
“Yeah! How’d you remember?”
“You were really happy to get it. You would not stop talking about it.” He smiles his Seungmin smile while recalling the memory. You had quite literally screamed when you opened it and Seungmin almost fell out of his ass thinking that you got hurt or injured. 
“Best. Gift. Ever.” You stressed every word, looking ahead to see you’re next in line. “I’m taking that as a challenge.” 
“Alright. I have to pay. I’ll talk to you later!”
“Text me…”
“I’ll text you when I get home, I know, I know. Bye!” You hang up the call just in time for the person before you to finish and you start loading your items on the counter. When you exit the shop, you spot Felix with his own bag of groceries as well. 
He greets you enthusiastically the moment he spots you, going in to give you a short hug and a small pat on your head. He’s smiling his sunshine smile as the two of you walk through the large shop together, and he’s kind enough to offer to carry one of your shopping bags for you as you exit. You decide to just take the train back to campus together as he lives in one of the in-campus dorms as well. 
“Soooo… you and Seungmin together yet?” Felix stabs the silence with a knife, immediately going in for the kill. You scrunch your face, shaking your head as you look at him with your eyes squinted. “Felix.”
“No, but like! He’s always so happy when he’s with you. And even when you’re not around, he goes on and on about you. I’m pretty sure Changbin knew everything about you before he even met you.”
“Don’t give me false hope.” You nibble on your lip, looking down at your groceries as Felix navigates the both of you towards the train station. 
Felix pauses, a small hand on your back to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd of people waiting to catch the train. “It’s not false hope!” Felix is trying to find a way to properly articulate his thoughts to you. He’s not dumb – he sees the way Seungmin looks at you. Seungmin doesn’t need to tell him. 
“Okay, listen to this. So, one time I went to their dorm, right? Cause I was stress-baking and I made too many brownies and I know how much Innie loves them so I went there. It was a little late in the night, and when I walked in about to announce my presence, Seungmin saw me.”
You look at him confused, but let him continue the story.
“Turns out, you had fallen asleep on him while the three of you were watching a movie, and there was this look on his face. I can’t even begin to explain, but he had this look, and he told me to be quiet so I don’t wake you up.”
You just scoff at his story. 
“Fine, don’t believe me. One day, I’m gonna say I told you so.” He teases, and a faint smile forms on your face. “Let’s hope I get to hear that.” You feel your heart pumping at the thought. Felix seems really sincere with his words, but you didn’t want to hang onto something you don’t see yourself. 
It’s quiet after that when you enter the train. It’s a little packed so there isn’t a seat for you and Felix, but he protectively stands beside you and ghosts an arm around you so you don’t fall when the train accelerates. Felix walks you all the way to your building before he hands you back your grocery bag. 
“Bye Felix! Be safe.”
“Bye (name). Go and kiss Seungmin for me!” 
“I hate you.” 
He waves to you as he leaves and now the thought of kissing Seungmin is stuck in your head. Screw Lee Felix and his endless teasing. 
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seven.
You don’t see Seungmin until Thursday that week. You’ve been stressed. Really stressed. And Seungmin’s well aware. 
He lets you rant to him at night, playing the part of your diary. He lets you be angry, he lets you be annoyed – without shame. He lets you feel every emotion and reminds you you’re valid for feeling that way.
You’re always thankful for Seungmin. You’re appreciative of the way he drops whatever he’s doing at any hint that you’re stressed just so he can listen. He doesn’t say anything while you rant, letting the moment be entirely yours. He simply plays his part as someone who’s there to hold the moment with you because he’s lucky enough to be the one to hear it. 
So, on a Thursday, you text him asking if it was okay for you to drop by the dorms. He says yes in an instant, but tells you to come in 2 hours. He must’ve been busy. 
But now, two hours later, you’re standing outside his dorm building with the carton of eggs you bought him and some jjajangmyeon. Jeongin, Seungmin’s roommate, is the one who greets you. 
“(Name)!”
“Jeongin!”
He rushes to hug you, wrapping his long arms around you and lifting you from the ground just a little before placing you down safely. “How long has it been since you visited us? I’m a little hurt.” He accompanies you to leave your student ID with the guard, holding up the conversation and offering to bring the plastic bag you’re holding.
Jeongin announces your arrival by knocking on the door. How unusual for someone who also lives in that same dorm he’s knocking. Maybe he didn’t bring the keys with him?
There’s a sound of vague stumbling and cursing and rushing around before the door swings open to reveal a sweating Seungmin. “Hey. Long time no see.” He lets out a breath, one you think he’s been holding before he steps aside to let the both of you in. He smiles at you before his eyes land on the plastic Jeongin’s holding. 
“My eggs! Thank you.” Seungmin pinches your cheeks in thanks before grabbing the bag from Jeongin who’s still chuckling over Seungmin’s very excited exclamation of his eggs. “And some jjajangmyeon, too? (Name), you sure know your way around my heart.” 
“You’re welcome.” You sit yourself on their couch, noticing that the place has been tidied up a little. You laugh at the boys’ effort to clean up before you came over. 
“You feeling better?” Seungmin plops down at the spot next to you, fixing his gaze on you. 
“A little.” (Way better now that I’m here with you–).
“Good. Being stressed ages you faster. You’re already like half fifty or something.”
(--so I can strangle you.)
Jeongin nudges Seungmin suddenly, clearing his throat. You look at the younger boy suspiciously and suddenly Seungmin’s sweating again despite not doing anything. “I have a surprise.” 
“You… have a surprise?” You tilt your head in confusion. Seungmin tells you to wait one moment as he waddles towards the door of their bathroom. What surprise could possibly be linked to their bathroom. “Seungmin. I swear to god if you show me one of your shit–”
Then, he opens the door and out comes running… Fang? 
“Did you kidnap the campus dog?!” You shoot out of your seat, mouth dropping at the sight of the dog who’s excitedly jumping and demanding for your attention. “I was kidding when I talked about kidnapping them!” 
“You said they’d cheer you up no matter what!” Your initial shock dissipates when Fang looks so cute barking and jumping at you, so you sit back down and he immediately hops on their couch to lay down on your lap.
“I helped too.” Jeongin states proudly, sitting on your left so you’re in between him and Seungmin who has taken the spot on your right. “You made the baby help you steal?” Seungmin rolls his eyes, rubbing Fang’s head. “He was more than happy to do it.” 
Only then do you allow your heart to explode in your chest. Seungmin actually kidnapped the campus dog to surprise you because you’d been stressed for the week. Your emotions feel heightened, and you feel an overwhelming wave of love wash over you at its purest, unsolicited form. 
He did this for you just because. He did it without expecting anything in return. He did it because you briefly mentioned how they made your day when you saw them that one time you ate dinner together. 
You can’t do anything but stare at him for a moment, unable to really pay attention to Fang, not that he really needs it. Jeongin’s giving him enough attention by playing around with him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded at the heavy implication of care in his actions. Here he was next to you, holding with him all your feelings you’ve had for years. 
“Thank you, Minnie.” You lean in to give him a small kiss on his cheek before you’re getting up to play with Fang and Jeongin. His pretty brown eyes go wide. There’s a deep inhalation while he sits there after you’d kissed his cheek. He’s taken by surprise, almost frozen in his spot. 
He’d kidnap all the campus dogs and cats just to feel your lips on his cheek again. 
He’s snapped out of his daze by the sound of knocking and almost immediately Jeongin’s rushing Fang back into their bathroom to hide him and their filthy crimes. They were going to return him. They were simply… borrowing.
Seungmin answers the door once Jeongin safely hides the cute puppy. 
It’s Lee Minho. 
“It’s just Minho!” Minho invites himself inside, waving at you once he spots you. “Why are you here?” 
“I invited him so he could cook dinner for us. My wallet’s bleeding and I’m craving a home cooked meal.” Jeongin responds, opening the bathroom door to let Fang out again who instantly warms up to Minho. There’s obvious relief in his voice at not being caught. He was an accessory to the crime after all. 
“Only if I get a hug from Seungminie.” Minho’s smirking, inching closer and closer to Seungmin who puts his arms out in front of him to block himself from the boy. “Move! You’re dirty! And don’t call me that.” 
Minho all but laughs at Seungmin’s response, already having predicted it. He ignores Seungmin’s passiveness when it comes to affection, choosing instead to pet the puppy by his feet. “I’m not even gonna ask why you stole the campus dog.”
“We’re just borrowing him!” 
“Can you steal Mushroom for me too?” Minho pats your head affectionately when he passes by you to make his way to the kitchen, looking through the pots and pans and ingredients to figure out what he’s going to be cooking tonight. 
“Depends how much you’re willing to pay me.” Seungmin grins evilly, and Minho all but shakes his head at the younger boy.
It goes on like this for a while. You help Minho out sometimes at the kitchen because Seungmin and Jeongin cannot for the life of them cook without causing a fire, and then Minho pushes you to go back and play with Fang since Seungmin went through all the trouble kidnapping him for you (Jeongin couldn’t keep the secret and told Minho right away why they decided to steal the puppy). 
You feel genuine happiness when you’re around them. The feeling remains even when you’ve sat down to eat. 
Jeongin and Minho also can’t help but notice the happiness radiating off of Seungmin who’s staring at you and your smile when he thinks no one is looking.
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eight.
Kim Seungmin’s friends are basically an extension of yours, like how your friends are an extension of his. 
While some are closer with others, you don’t mind each other’s presence. Seungmin’s friend group is way bigger than yours – 8 boys including himself. As for you, you liked sticking with Winter, Chaeryeong, and Ryujin. 
Hanging out in the big field of your school was supposed to be only amongst you and the 3 girls, but when the boys caught wind of your plans, they asked if they could tag along. 
That’s how you find yourselves sitting on the field’s grass and chatting while some play a variation of volleyball by the side. 
Everyone’s doing their own little thing, happy to just spend the afternoon with friends after a long week of classes. Ryujin’s bullying Chan, untying his shoelaces every chance she gets. Chaeryeong and Minho are discussing amongst themselves about their dance showcase coming up since they were both majoring in the same course (with Changbin constantly trying to bother them both – you wish Chaeryeong would punch him again so you could catch it on video this time). Hyunjin’s asking for Winter’s advice since he’s been tinkering with the idea of taking up Fashion Design. The rest of the boys are playing around with the exception of Seungmin who’s laying down on the picnic blanket you’d laid out. 
“You mentioned you had a quiz today, right? How was that?” You look down at Seungmin even though he has an arm draped over his eyes to shield them from the sun. 
“I think I did alright. Bolted out of there as soon as they started discussing their answers.” 
The boy simply laughs, tuning out everyone else in favor of listening to your voice. It doesn’t last long though when Jisung is bothering everyone to play volleyball together. He claims it’s perfect since you were 12 total so exactly 6 people would be on each time like an actual game. 
Feeling nice today, you decided to join in on his idea. Jisung is thankful for the support. It’s always his ideas that are turned down – though he’s to blame most of  the time. Who thinks swimming in an ice cold lake is a good idea to hangout? 
It’s only now that he thinks of something that’s normal to do so everyone gives him a chance.
So, you play. You, Ryujin, Chan, Felix, Minho and Hyunjin in one team and Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin, Chaeryeong, Winter, and Jisung in another. 
Your team wins both rounds. Seungmin’s just complaining about Changbin’s good at nothing while you switch courts to play a third round (even though your team’s already won). “That’s embarrassing.” Minho jests at the opposite team, laughing when Jisung pouts instantly. 
“We’re just going to win again. Do you really wanna play another round?” Ryujin joins in on the teasing, finally creating a temporary truce with Chan as they were on the same team. 
“Mean!” Chaeryeong remarks before slumping her shoulders. “She’s right though. They’re definitely gonna win again.” 
“I hate all of you” are Seungmin’s last words before you play another round. The game goes by really quickly until Jisung accidentally spikes the ball in your direction and he’s immediately down on his knees apologizing to you. 
Everyone’s eyes instantly land on Seungmin who’s already making his way to where you’re seated on the ground. 
“I’m okay. It’s okay Ji!” Despite your verbal reassurance to everyone, he still places a fond hand on your head before he holds your chin, gently tilting your head on both sides to see if you were hit in the face. 
Jisung’s now apologizing to both you and Seungmin.
Chan jumps on the opportunity to start taunting Jisung and how Seungmin was gonna be mad at him and Jisung’s sad attempts at getting the boy to hug him will all be in vain. “Chan, you’re my roommate. I thought you were supposed to be on my side!” 
“I’m sorry, the roommate contract doesn’t cover taking your side.” 
Seungmin doesn’t let the game continue after that, but nobody really minds, happy to finally take a break from playing. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Doting Seungmin is adorable as he’s wiping the sweat from your forehead, asking you a million times if you were hurt. He tells you it’s because he can’t pay in case you've broken a bone or something. You know better than that. 
He was just being his ‘tsundere’ self. 
“Yo, you guys ready for the midterms exams soon?” Chan opens up and a loud groan immediately leaves Ryujin’s lips in response. “Don’t even remind me.” 
“I’m honestly just excited for the university festival right after.” Felix quips, hugging his knees to his chest. Winter and Hyunjin instantly agree, talking about wanting to help out with the booths. 
“I wonder which artists are gonna perform. There’s no lineup yet, right?” Changbin asks, and everyone responds with a variation of ‘no’ or ‘I don’t know’ along with a list of some artists they wished would make an appearance. 
“Ya, lovebirds!” Minho calls out to the both of you which catches your attention. “You’re going to the university festival after exams, right?” 
Your eyes light up at the mention of the festival and you eagerly nod, completely disregarding how Minho called you lovebirds. Seungmin takes note of your excitement, smiling goofily to himself before replacing it with a straight face upon facing his friends. He knows they’ll never let him live it down if they caught him with that smile on his face.
Seungmin just watches as you start talking about which booths you wished to see and which artists you were hoping to perform, and how you were wondering if there was going to be a fireworks display at night. 
Your grin is so wide and fond and excited that Seungmin can’t help but let his own smile unknowingly linger. Minho has a shit-eating grin on his face at the sight.
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nine.
Hell week – the week before midterm exams – comes really quick, and soon you find yourself living through Seungmin’s coffee machine and 5 hours of sleep. 
The campus library becomes your second home as does a lot of people from numerous departments, studying until ungodly hours and sneaking in cups of hot coffee. So, after eating dinner, you walk the familiar steps towards the library with your best friend. 
Seungmin also seems to be running low on sleep, eyes drooping before you even made it to the library. However, ever the top student that he is, he fights through the exhaustion. He’s thankful for the distraction. 
Ever since you mentioned your excitement for the university festival and the fireworks display, Seungmin’s mind has been eating at him to use it as the perfect opportunity to confess to you. It’s the only thing that replays in his mind when he isn’t doing anything — all the possible outcomes to a confession and all the possible ways to confess.
So, he’s more than grateful for the distraction. 
Not so much the one in front of him right now though. You’ve been at the library for around an hour now, books and papers scattered around the table. Seungmin’s tapping his pen against his lips, elbow propped up on the wood of the table. Criminal law has long been discarded in his head, he’s read it way too many times for the past week in preparation for the exams. 
“Stop looking. You’re distracting me.” You whisper for Seungmin to pay attention, not even bothering to look up from your own book as you shut your eyes closed to try the photographic memory you clearly don’t have before flipping to the next page.
“How narcissistic of you to think I’m staring at you.” He rolls his eyes just to be annoying before his cheek falls against his fist, eyes glazing over you again. He has little shame in his unabashed staring. 
It’s how he notices your gentle shivering at the airconditioning of the library. “Did you forget to bring a jacket?”
You don’t hear him, and you don’t really have to as he’s already taking his hoodie off, dropping it on top of your book to grab your attention. “You’re shaking.” When you’re about to retort, saying he’d get cold too — he goes back to studying, placing his earphones in even though he isn’t listening to any music.
You notice it’s your favorite hoodie of his, the Dodgers gray hoodie, once you put it on. Almost immediately you’re engulfed in his warmth and his scent and you’re grateful for the jacket because your ass has been shaking for the last hour. 
Seungmin’s attempt to get back to studying falls short when he catches a glimpse of you in his jacket that’s clearly too big for you. 
His thoughts drift to the color of your eyes and the way your hair frames your face so prettily and how you look so cute with the sleeves of his jacket falling beyond where your hands are. He thinks about how it’d feel like if he went in for the first kiss, pressing his lips on yours without it being nerve-wracking. 
He imagines everything and anything in that short amount of time, his notes discarded in favor of admiring you. 
Seungmin is interrupted when you drop a copy of his perfectly written notes (from a class he took a year ago), asking him about a specific topic since you’re taking the class this year. He readjusts himself on the library seats, the ones he hates but puts up because you enjoy studying in the library so much. 
Leaning in forward, Seungmin starts explaining to you the concepts of Politics and Governance and Health Laws. He glances at you with a frown when you seem to be staring at his notes blankly, having a hard time grasping all the information at once.
“You look like you’re fighting for your life in there.”
“That’s cause I am! How am I supposed to pass this class? Can it just be over so we can be at the university fest already?” Seungmin leans across the table to flick your forehead gently.
“You’re more concerned about the university fest than passing your exams.” 
“Okay, mean.” You say to him with a frown, looking around to see if anyone’s looking before flashing him a middle finger. He rolls his eyes, pushing your notes further towards you before speaking again. “I’m not wrong though.”
He pokes you with a pen to get your attention, telling you to focus up before he’s explaining the concepts to you again. You try better to understand them now, repeating some of the things he tells you and answering his follow-up questions to make sure you really understand.
The soft smile he gives you when you answer correctly is enough motivation to perfect your exam. He looks like such a boyfriend right now. Lending you his hoodie, tutoring you on your exams, leaning in and smiling that soft smile directed at you. It takes everything in your head not to daydream of what it’d be like if he was actually yours. 
You have to remind yourself he isn’t yours. He’s just your best friend. Your stupid boyfriend material best friend. 
Similarly, Seungmin’s telling himself to get it together. He needs to stay focused on the upcoming exams and stop thinking about what it’d feel like to be yours.
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ten.
It goes like this for a few more days until midterms week rolls through. And even then, you’d hold yourself in the library after an exam to study for the next. 
Sometimes you’d be joined by Winter, and sometimes Jisung and Changbin would tag along which usually resulted in you trying to muffle your laughter underneath sweater sleeves. Who knew you could sneak in 12 cups of coffee in the library before actually getting caught? 
Ever since then, Jisung’s been banned from your study sessions with Seungmin.
Tomorrow’s the last day of your exams, and you’re at Seungmin and Jeongin’s dorm to eat dinner before you head out to the library for the last time. 
Seungmin’s out to buy dinner so you’re left with Jeongin who keeps trying to pry into yours and Seungmin’s non-existent relationship. “But you’ve definitely made out before, right?” Your face grows redder and redder every second that Jeongin speaks and you hit him with their couch throw pillow to rebut. 
“We have not!”
“You’re right. Seungmin would’ve never shut up about it. But like, why not? Just get it over with and kiss!”
“We’re just best friends.”
“That’s what they all say.” Jeongin turns his full attention at you, smirking to himself before he starts making kissing noises. “Oh Minnie, kiss me already!” He purposely changes the pitch of his voice to try and imitate yours and you pretend not to feel the warmth on your cheeks.
“I’m gonna end up killing you before Seungmin does.”
He acts as if he doesn’t hear your comment (threat) and continues to tease you. “Seungminie, please fu—“
“Oh my god, shut up!” You almost jump at the poor boy upon realizing what he’s about to say next, and Seungmin arrives just in time before you can strangle the life out of his roommate.
“Am I interrupting something?” He glances at the two of you with an eyebrow raised, placing down the takeout containers on the table and motioning for you to sit so you can eat already.
“I think you might’ve just saved my life.” You send another glare at Jeongin and he raises his hands in surrender. 
Seungmin just chuckles at this, coming up to sit beside you before he’s distributing the containers to the three of you. “What did you even do that made her jump you?” 
“Everything he does makes me want to jump him.” You bark, squinting your eyes at the boy seated across from you and Seungmin.
“Woah, woah. (Name), I don’t see you like that. So eager to jump me?” You scoff loudly at his response, flicking a plastic spoon in his direction. 
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! We both know who you really want to jump.” 
The plastic fork follows with the threat that if he doesn’t shut up, the hot soup from your noodles is gonna be next.
“Alright, both of you calm down and eat.” Almost instantly, Jeongin’s hunching over his chair, terrible posture leaned forward to start twisting the noodles around his chopsticks. Seungmin angles himself close to you so that your shoulders are brushing, leaning down and blowing on his food before he starts to eat as well.
You try and fail to hide a smile at the physical contact.
On your way to the library, you exchange reviewers to ask each other questions. It’s a good way to retain your memory on the concepts. Jeongin doesn’t seem to know any of the answers to his questions, and Seungmin makes that face exclusive to when he senses something horrible is going to happen — in this case, Jeongin’s grade on this subject.
“Don’t worry. God’s gonna give me a miracle tomorrow.”
“Did he tell you that?” You nudge Seungmin’s shoulder, laughing at their banter when Jeongin sticks his tongue out at your best friend. 
“Of course you’re gonna pass your exams tomorrow. Pre-law students are nerds. You fit right in.” Jeongin snorts which earns him a smack from his roommate. “Do you wanna get kicked out of the dorms?”
The rest of the night falls smoothly with the three of you minding your own business (Jeongin instantly gets distracted by his phone). It’s only before midnight that you find Seungmin asleep in front of you, head resting on the wooden table of the library and eyes closed peacefully. 
You glance at him and you almost feel bad you have to wake him up. Your heart flutters at the small smile gracing his lips, snapping a quick photo so you can go back to this moment forever.
You brush his skin gently, and a smile appears on his face. It’s soft, reserved, but it feels like everything to you. Something in the way he smiled at your touch has you feeling something you can’t quite identify. It makes your heart hurt in s good way.
“Minnie, wake up.” Your voice breaks him out of his nap. He glances up, sleep still evident in his eyes. Then, his dreamy smile returns. 
“Sorry.” You apologize to the boy while he moves to tidy up his things. He must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for you to finish studying. 
“Don’t apologize.” There’s that sincere, intense look in his eyes that makes sure to meet your gaze, so you know he’s being serious, yet his words are gently spoken. He doesn’t want you to feel bad. It was his choice to wait for you.
“Go straight to sleep when you get back, okay? I know you love pulling allnighters, but it’s not good for you.” 
On normal circumstances, he’d protest, telling you that he was still able to get a good 4 hours of sleep, but the genuine concern swimming in your eyes has him sealing his mouth shut and nodding instead.
“Alright.”
Seungmin finds he’d do anything for you.
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eleven.
After you finish your last test, you get a text from Seungmin telling you to come to JYP Diner. 
He explains that the boys wanted to eat together after completing the midterm exams, and that you should try inviting Ryujin and Winter as well (Chaeryeong was already there as she shared her last exam schedule with Minho).
You reply that Winter had retired for the day, and that Ryujin still had an exam later this afternoon. He tells you to hurry up and get your ass to the diner.
As soon as you open the door, Seungmin’s eyes land on you and the annoyed look on his face melts into a fond smile. He’s quick to get up, greeting you by the door before wrapping his arm around your shoulder to draw you to where they were seated. 
The inside of the diner is warm and pleasant. You’re thankful for the differing scenery of the calm diner compared to the stress of your university.
The boys and Chaeryeong wave at you when you make it to the table, and you fall on the empty seat right next to your best friend. 
“Oh, (name). You should’ve heard him when you were still on your way here.” Minho quips, grin growing when Seungmin kicks him from under the table.
“Why’s (name) taking so long?” 
“Has (name) texted you guys?”
The rest of the boys join in, overexaggerating their imitation of Seungmin’s words from earlier. Barely concealed laughters echo around your booth when your best friend shoots them a friendly show of his middle finger before he shushes them, asking you what you wanted to eat as everyone else had already ordered. 
“Hey, where’s Felix?” You only now notice the boy’s absence, and Hyunjin snorts in response. 
“Immediately fell asleep after his Advanced Calculus exam. He was actually in tears while studying for it last night.” 
“Just like Jeongin then.” Seungmin earns a rather harsh nudge from Jeongin. “That was supposed to be a secret!” 
There’s a gentle smile eating at your lips once your food arrives and your sleep-deprived friends start gobbling up the food as if they were sentenced to life and this was their last meal. There’s always that unidentifiable feeling of comfort when you’re with them, and you’re grateful to have found such friends. 
“What’s wrong?” Seungmin asks you quietly, noticing that you haven't started eating yet. Humming, you shake your head with the same small smile on your face. 
“It’s nothing.” 
Your after-exam celebration is continued over teasing and conversations about the university festival, and one by one, everyone starts excusing themselves to go back home. As usual, Seungmin walks you home.
He doesn’t let you walk into your building immediately upon arrival, asking you to wait for a moment. You comply, tilting your head with an amused smile on your face. 
He’s rummaging through his bag now, looking for something before he pulls out two… tickets? He shoves one in your direction and it takes you a while to realize it’s a ticket to the university festival concert. They weren’t even selling yet, and when they did, it sold out pretty fast.
“How did you…?”
“Chan’s part of the student organizers.” 
You immediately jump to coddle the boy in your arms, squeezing his rather larger body and pressing your cheek on his chest as you repeatedly say ‘thank you’. Your eyes are squeezed shut from beaming too much and your smile’s a little crooked from how genuine it comes out. 
Seungmin can’t properly tell you that it’s no problem. He finds his words jumbled up because the sight he’s subjected to is so… beautiful. He’s blushing and somehow it’s making you blush too. 
There’s something tucked beneath your smile, a certain kind of shyness in the way your eyes crinkle. It’s beautiful, as it always has been, but there was something about it that had Seungmin staring at your lips and back at your eyes. It’s like he’s being pulled in, and he’s unaware that he’s slowly and slowly minimizing the gap between you. 
Just when he’s about to bite the bullet, an unknown voice startles him.
“Is that the little menace?” 
Fucking hell.
Karen’s marching her way down the steps to where Seungmin’s standing, and you know it’s time he goes before Karen catches up to the boy. 
“I guess I’ll see you later.” You laugh, but there’s that hint of shyness again, of being flustered as you wave at him. And then, you turn around to head inside your building.
Seungmin bolts back to his dorms, and he spends the rest of the afternoon thinking about what could’ve happened if goddamn Crazy Karen would’ve just kept her mouth shut. 
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twelve.
The university festival comes really fast, and you’re more than excited to spend it with your friends.
“Give me one second.” Chaeryeong’s gathering products from her desk and makeup bag, gathering them up on the floor and telling you to sit still as she rummages through her multiple tubes and brushes. 
She maneuvers your head so you’re facing her before she slathers something on her palms, transferring the product to your face and rubbing it gently on your skin. A thin layer of concealer follows before she’s brushing powder on your face. 
Earlier, you had asked if she could do your makeup for you and she excitedly replied with a ‘yes’ and a ‘come over right away’. 
It’s how you find multiple brushes being dabbed on your face, hues of pink on your cheeks and a little on your nose before she’s patting a few glitters on the lids of your eyes. She lets you put on the mascara yourself so she doesn’t accidentally poke you with the wand (like she did the last time she did your makeup).
Then she’s on the search for the perfect shade of lipstick. “Let’s just put a little. Seungmin’s just gonna wipe it all off anyway when you two eventually kiss tonight.” 
“Oh my god, Ryeong.” 
“What! I’m not wrong.” She’s giggling as she tells you to part your lips slightly, applying the soft pink shade on your lips. “You look so pretty.” She coos more to herself, proud of her creation before she’s pinching your cheeks lightly. 
She shoves a mirror to your face so you can reap the results of her hard work. She was right.
Chaeryeong did a wonderful job highlighting your natural features and letting the makeup work naturally on your face. You smile brightly, giving her a quick hug and showering her in ‘thank you’s. 
“Okay, now get changed. Go, go! We’re gonna be late.” 
When you step out, you’re met with the sight of Chaeryeong in a cute, sleeveless dress, leather jacket and fishnets. She looks stunning as she playfully turns around to show off her whole fit. “Damn, one chance?”
“Yeah, right. One chance with Seungmin, you mean.” 
“Actually, I’d like to take a million chances with Seungmin.” She cracks into a fit of giggles. “You’re so down horrendous. Look, with the way you look, I’m sensing the first chance will be taken tonight.” 
You give yourself a final do-over with Chaeryeong’s words, looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re wearing some loose slacks and a black tube top with a cream colored cardigan. For someone who didn’t have enough time to consult Winter and her amazing fashion sense, you’d say you did pretty well at dressing yourself prettily. 
“Okay, okay. Come here, let me put lip gloss on you. I think some of the boys are here already.” You comply, letting her fix up some lip gloss on you before applying some on herself.
“They’re picking us up?”
“Yup. Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin, I think?”
“Seungmin?” You thought you’d have more time to gather yourself and your feelings on the walk to the big field where all the booths were set up. 
“Yeah, their dorm is nearest to mine. Come on.” 
When you and Chaeryeong step out of her building, the boys are dramatically whistling and clapping their hands. Only when you’re near them do they spill their genuine compliments at the way you two look. 
Seungmin’s knee-jerking reaction at seeing you so prettily dressed-up is to just stare at you unabashedly. There’s so much he wants to say, but his eyes remain glued open and his mouth shut. 
“Yah, stop staring.” Minho smacks the back of Seungmin’s head and he’s stuttering out for something to say. He wants to tell you that you look beautiful, wants to say something charming to woo you over but he’s left with his mouth parted. 
You just laugh at their exchange, taking your spot next to Seungmin as the five of you start walking to the big field. Seungmin looks so painfully attractive with his white shirt and jeans and converse and varsity jacket. He looks like the epitome of a boyfriend – so painfully dashing but also very painfully out of your league. 
Meanwhile, Seungmin’s still kicking himself over for not being able to tell you how beautiful he thinks you look. He’s just hoping he’s presented with another opportunity to tell you – and he hopes by then, he’ll have enough courage to say it. 
Earlier today, Jeongin and Minho gave him quite the heart-to-heart talk and convinced him to confess his feelings tonight. Besides, as they said, it was the perfect opportunity.
“You like her. You have for like a few years now. Stop being a pussy and tell her.” Minho’s words are rather straightforward. Jeongin groans before punching his arm. 
Minho grabs at his arm, shrugging his shoulders before continuing to snack on the chips he had stolen. 
“I’m not telling her.” Seungmin mutters to the boys, dejected. “I’m gonna ruin our friendship.”
“How sure are you?” Minho is stubborn as he continues to push Seungmin. “I’m not. But I don’t want to know.”
This time, Jeongin interjects. “Are you sure you don’t want to know? How would you live with yourself if she liked you all along and you let go of that chance so easily?” 
“I won’t.”
“Exactly. No one lives a happy life entirely within their comfort zone. If you like her so much then she’s worth dragging yourself out of that zone.” Seungmin stiffens at his roommate’s words, mind racing to truly think about what he’s saying. 
Since when did Jeongin get so wise? 
As if Minho was thinking the same thing, he narrows his eyes before staring at the youngest of the group. “You got something you wanna share with the class? How come you know so much about asking someone out?”
“The two of you are just stupid. Anyways, just do it.” 
The waters Jeongin’s treading on are dangerous, but well worth it if it meant Seungmin’s genuine happiness. He thinks it’s time Seungmin ripped off the poor excuse of a bandaid he taped around his heart and deemed all good now.
“Yeah, or I’ll do it myself.” Minho throws him a sly grin, voice overflowing with mischief. 
“Absolutely not.” Seungmin shakes his head in protest, eyes gaping in horror. He immediately grabs the bag of chips from Minho’s lap which the boy immediately tries to grab back. “What’re you gonna do to stop me?”
“Tell Chaeryeong how you wanted her to be your dance partner soooo bad with some screenshots of your messages to me.” Minho should’ve known better than to challenge the one boy that held multiple threats towards each one of them. 
His argument was unfair because he and Jeongin were the only people he told that to. Minho’s mood darkens, pulling back the bag of chips with force and resigning from his evil plans of telling you how Seungmin feels about you. 
Minho valued his pride more than anything else.
“Look, I’ll do it myself.” Seungmin huffs, rubbing the back of his neck and falling back on his bed to stare at the ceiling. “I think.”
Then, Minho’s phone buzzes from right next to him.
“The girls are almost ready. Let’s start walking.”
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thirteen.
When the five of you arrive, most of your friends are already there.
Chan’s the first one that sees you. 
“Finally.” He greets you and Chaeryeong with a big hug before bumping his fists with the boys. What is it with men and their fist bumps? 
Before you can mingle with the rest of the group, Chan leans in discreetly (or at least, as discreet as he could) and whispers to the boys. “Watch out if you’re wearing shoes. Ryujin’s been messing with everyone’s shoelaces the moment we got here.”
You laugh at his warning. Ryujin’s actually such a menace. 
“That sounds just about right.” You pat him in the back before going in to give Ryujin a hug. Her face immediately lights up when she sees you and Chaeryeong, wrapping an arm around the both of you as she starts to move away from the boys.
“Ryujin has more rizz than you.” 
“I’m not talking to someone who cried while studying Advanced Calculus.”
“Noted.” Felix instantly shuts up, moving to talk about another topic with Hyunjin who's laughing his ass off at Seungmin’s response at the poor boy.
“We’re just waiting on Changbin, Winter, and… Jisung?” 
Chan’s head counting the group, pointing at each person and mentally noting down the numbers, making sure that no one was missing. You remember the time Felix had accidentally joined in with Beomgyu’s friend group when he thought he was following Seungmin’s feet. Chan almost lost his mind.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect when they show up from a distance. Jisung seems to be talking Winter’s ear off and Changbin’s trying to pull him back. Winter looks a bit overstimulated with his level of energy, but divulges in the conversation anyway. Jisung appreciates it. You smile at how easy your friends got on with Seungmin’s friends. 
Felix excitedly points at the arcade booths lining up, some shooting games, prize wheels, virtual reality. Everyone else reciprocates the excitement, immediately running up to the booths and getting in line. Meanwhile, Jeongin’s dragging Minho at the claw machine. He’s always been notorious for having luck when it came to the claw machine games, and Jeongin was taking his chances the moment he found a bread plushie in the glass case. 
“Get it yourself.”
“Chaeryeong!” 
Minho shuts him up with a bread plushie he immediately wins for Jeongin. The youngest boy happily holds his prize and keeps his mouth shut. 
Chan easily wins Ryujin whatever she asks for in exchange for her leaving his shoelaces alone. Ryujin is easily bribed when it comes to food and free prizes and she knows Chan would probably win most of the games she wanted. Jisung and Changbin were comparing their strengths and boasting about their muscles by the punching machine, and Chaeryeong’s dominating the shooting games with Winter.
“Oh my god, the Sunshine Harvest has a booth. I’ll be back.” Before anyone from the group can accompany you, you’re running towards the direction of the booth. Seungmin understands your rush. Their mango shakes were probably on the way to selling out fast if you didn’t get there sooner. 
When you don’t return in the next 20 minutes, Seungmin is sweating frantically. He knows you can handle yourself, but there was now a chock full of new people who had just arrived and were littering the area. It’s when you don’t pick up his calls that tips him over. 
“I’m gonna go look for (name).” Chan nods understandingly, and Seungmin disappears in a flash. He thanks his parents for his height at this very moment, scanning through the groups of people and excusing himself so he can navigate towards the Sunshine Harvest booth. 
His heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t see you there. But just when he’s about to panic some more, he spots someone hunched over to the very far left, away from the crowd, discarded mango shake container to the side. He practically leaps out of the bench he’s standing on, jogging in your direction. 
He doesn’t have the heart to scold you when he finds you playing with Mushroom.
“(Name).” You jump back at the sudden voice, but instantly smile upon realizing it’s just Seungmin. You finally say goodbye to the cat, grabbing your empty bottle before standing up. “Sorry, did I take too long?” 
“No, it’s okay.” You just don’t have to know how frantic he was while he was looking everywhere for you. 
On the way back to your friends, you don’t realize his hand is glued to the small of your waist so he doesn’t lose you again. 
When the group decides to split up, Minho and Jeongin are instantly sending Seungmin stupid dirty looks with their stupid wiggling eyebrows. He knows if he doesn’t confess tonight, Minho might actually do it for him.
The rest of the afternoon goes by so fast. You applaud the university and the student body for organizing the fest. The afternoon transitions to night so smoothly, you don’t even realize the amount of time that passed by. 
The bright lights and the loud music is so exhilarating, and it makes you feel so alive — the most alive you’ve felt in the week. There are times when you dance along to the music, exaggerating your movements and Seungmin laughs with his head rolled back and you’d embarrass yourself over and over to keep hearing him laugh.
Seungmin takes the weight off your chest so easily. All he does is pat your head and squeeze your cheeks and accompany you wherever you wish to go and suddenly, you feel lighter. Happier. And it is so, so loud. Everyone around you is talking, crowded together but you can’t hear them. All you can focus on is the feeling of his hand in yours to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd and the way it fits perfectly. Like his hand was meant to be crafted to hold yours.
It’s how you continue to feel when you find yourselves amongst the crowd of the concert, pretending to know the lyrics of the songs playing, screaming at each other when you actually recognize the song. Everything you do with him is something you wish you could capture in a photo.
He’s singing, and you look at him with a silent glee in your eyes, hoping to touch the same greatness that Kim Seungmin always held and hoping to burn the memory of his singing and his soft eyes and his hand in yours. You almost feel like flying. 
His eyes are warm when you look at them, golden brown peeking down at you with fondness. You’ve always loved his eyes the most. It has always been his most obvious tell — of the things they feel and the things they’ve made you feel when he stared at you a little longer than normal.
Your lips quirk up in a smile, and you find yourself singing along to the songs with him. You were never the greatest singer, but with him, you felt like loveliest melodies and tunes flow out of you comfortably.
This time, Seungmin allows himself a quick glance at you from his peripheral vision, admiring your naturally dusted cheeks and your beaming eyes and your messed up hair from the wind and from running around all night. How could you stand there and sing without a care in the world and smile and look so, so beautiful.
And there are many things Seungmin considers to be beautiful. He loves the sunrise and the sunsets and the way the sky blends into a perfect mix of colors along the horizon before the moon chases the sun away. He loves the flowers and the trees on his way to his classes and the wind’s breeze wrapping you in a cold blanket. He loves the stars and their relentless twinkling and how they coat the night sky, making sure the moon is never lonely. But above all, he loves you and your smile and the way you chew on your lips when you think and how you make him feel like he can touch the sky. 
Seungmin finds he’d sacrifice the sunset and sunrise and the twinkling stars if it meant he could call you and all of you, his. 
He doesn’t say anything when he drops his varsity jacket on your shoulders and he doesn’t meet your eyes when you look up at him to thank him.
You make Seungmin trip over his own words. All tangled in adoration and longing. Between all the galaxies and universes, Seungmin concludes he’s lucky to have landed under the same stars as you. 
With all this in mind, Seungmin’s sure he’s upgraded way beyond the like. He’s in love with you — in the hopeless, clumsy, exhilarating kind of way. And he finds that loving you is something he wants to experience no matter the outcome. 
If he was told you’d never feel the same and if he’d still take the chance to fall in love with you, he’d say yes. It’s a yes again and again and again. Always a yes. He’d prefer the unrequited over never knowing how it feels to love you and every part of you. 
“(Name)?”
Despite the loudness of the music and the fireworks and the people around you, you find Seungmin’s voice cut through them all. 
Looking up at him, you find him looking at you in a way he never has done before. In the way he’s done so many times when you weren’t looking. There’s something swirling in his eyes, some kind of longing and desire. 
I've been alone for too long
You've been there all along
The distance between you is closing. Seungmin’s heart is racing when he peels his hand from yours in favor of cradling your cheek gently, tracing along your jaw and soaking in every detail about your face.
Ethereal love
I will choose you now and everyday
Seungmin’s putting everything on the line, stepping into the unknown, heartbeat pounding in his ears. There’s still time for you to pull away, to run away from the certainty he feels about you, to shatter him into a million pieces. 
He hopes you won’t. 
His eyes flutter shut, but when he opens them again, you’re already gone.
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fourteen.
It’s the first time Seungmin doesn’t blow up your notifications. 
Jeongin confiscates his phone when he comes home to Seungmin downing a bottle of vodka. He’s immediately concerned for his roommate’s wellbeing and what could’ve led to Seungmin’s sudden want to get drunk. 
“Hey, what happened?” He sits on the ground to accompany Seungmin, grabbing the bottle when he sees that it’s almost empty. 
“Let me sulk properly.” Then, he’s grabbing the bottle back from Jeongin, chugging down the remains before harshly setting it down on the ground. A sharp sigh leaves his throat before he leans in to rest his head on Jeongin’s shoulder. And he sits there and lets him.
Jeongin lets him because Seungmin needed someone right now. “I fucked up, Innie.” 
It’s the most fragile Jeongin’s ever heard from his roommate and he takes Seungmin’s hand to let him know that he’s listening. “Tried to kiss (name). I ruined everything.” 
Jeongin’s face twists in confusion, heart rising in his own throat. He knows you like Seungmin back. And if Seungmin tried to kiss you, he would’ve thought the result of that would be a very happy phone call from his roommate – not him drinking until he forgets.
Seungmin feels pathetic, and Jeongin swears to get to the bottom of things. With sleepy fucked up eyes, Seungmin looks up at the boy, chin tilted up and lips quivering. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”
“I know she will. Come here.” Seungmin bows his head faintly, head falling on Jeongin’s chest as he allows himself to be hugged – allows himself to be vulnerable and to feel because it’s something that doesn’t need to be taught, but needs to be remembered over and over again. 
Jeongin wraps his arms around the boy. Seungmin attempts to swat his arms away, the way he’s used to, but he thinks it feels quite nice to be hugged. 
He had downed the pain and was begging for the temporary buzz to kick in all while his fingers are clenched on the fabric of Jeongin’s shirt and his tears are leaving a wet spot where his face is pressed against.
There’s a burn in his heart, just under his chest and it’s squeezing so tightly. When he closes his eyes, all he sees is you and he cries a little more. Is this what it felt like to have someone to lose?
Even if he knows you won’t let his feelings get in between your friendship, the unrequitedness of the feelings Seungmin has held for years is dawning on him and it is so, so painful. 
Jeongin shoots you a quick text to meet him tomorrow. 
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fifteen.
You wake up to a text from Jeongin which is how you know you’ve truly fucked up now.
You didn’t mean for it to happen, and you feel horrendous. 
You’re honestly not even sure how it happened. What a grief it is that your memory works the way they do and how you don’t remember how it felt to have his face so close to yours. It deprives you of the memory of his eyes and his lips, and they let go of the feeling of his hand in yours while you watched the fireworks. 
The human brain is beautiful, but how dare it cost the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands cradling your face. 
In hindsight, you know you shouldn’t have run away. But you were afraid. You were afraid it was just a heat of the moment thing and Seungmin didn’t actually want to kiss you. Were you the one that came onto him? Did you initiate the kiss? 
Everything had felt so right before the fear settled in. You’ve been left with questions that were never answered before, all the voices in your head you’ve shut out for so long screaming at you. Was this how it felt to have someone to lose? 
You bury your face in your hands in frustration. Did you ruin years of friendship because you wanted to know how his lips felt like on yours? 
You’re not sure what you’re thinking when you walk towards where Jeongin tells you to meet up, but you do know you’re immediately regretting it. Especially when you see a familiar figure walking towards where you’re standing. 
“I – I have to go.” You blurt out the moment you see him. “I’m sorry. I have to.. I need to be somewhere.” You feel selfish – walking away from him because you’re not ready to hear his rejection.
“Wait, (name). Let me explain myself.”
You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to hear the words you’d been dreading to hear. 
Backed up by your one-sided feelings, you turn yourself around and your fingers tighten around the sleeves of the jacket you’re wearing, and you shake your head as you try to quicken your pace so you can get out of there as soon as you can.
“I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen.” 
His sudden confession stops you in your tracks. 
You find it physically impossible to turn around and look at him. Trembling lips are so easy to discern, especially on Seungmin. 
“(Name), please… please look at me.” You will yourself to look at him, and when you brave eye contact, you notice his lips trembling in trial of a smile. But it’s sad, it’s so sad and his lips start to quiver. It’s difficult to ignore the crack in his whispers and the pain in his transparent eyes. 
“I feel like I’m losing you.” The words taste bitter on his tongue. He knows exactly why. 
They’re words he never thought he’d ever utter in his lifetime, and now that he’s saying them, the reality is hitting him much harder. 
“Did I do something wrong? Was it because I tried to kiss you?” Seungmin’s having difficulty speaking, especially with the lump in his throat and the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He hasn’t cried in such a long time. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” 
He sounds ashamed, and the break in his voice does nothing to disguise his guilt. 
You hate that. You hate that you made Seungmin feel this way over one big misunderstanding. His confession repeats in your head over and over and you feel the buildup of bile in your stomach when you realize you’ve hurt Seungmin.
Your mouth dries. There’s so much you want to tell him, but you find no words escape your throat. It feels like there are fingers being shoved down your throat. 
Before you can push down the nausea, Seungmin breaks eye contact. His heart is beating incredibly fast and he thinks he’s fucked up with you further by confessing his repressed emotions – confessing his feelings he was so practiced in hiding. 
A spell of dizziness sends Seungmin tumbling backwards, heart racing and palms sweating. He looks at you, studying your expression, and the silence feels like it goes on for too long and he thinks he’s made a mistake. 
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
His sorry feels a lot like he’s saying goodbye. 
Seungmin disappears in the blink of an eye.
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sixteen.
It’s the first time in a long time that you’re the one blowing up his notifications.
He doesn’t reply to your texts. Granted it’s 3AM and the poor boy is probably asleep.
You’ve been tossing and turning for the past few hours, unable to catch even a wink of sleep with the amount of thoughts racing in your mind. The image of Seungmin, of his red eyes, of his tears, emerges from the night around you. It stubbornly laments, refusing you any form of peace. You deserve it.
Overwhelming sadness stunned you, shadowing over Seungmin’s confession. You don’t allow his words to linger. It’s incredibly unfair to feel hope when Seungmin’s out there feeling his most hopeless. 
You’re about to turn again, forcing your eyes shut when the familiar ringtone of Facetime echoes from your phone. Almost immediately, you’re leaping off your bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand.
Oh.
It’s Winter.
“Alright, what’s wrong?” You stare at her through the screen of your phone, and it looks like she’s making herself comfortable. She’s seated on her lazy boy chair, blankets bunched up around her shoulders and a mug of something steaming by her side. 
“What?”
“I was gonna walk over to your building, but it’s 3am and I am not about to die just so I can come over and hug you. I’ll do that tomorrow.”
Your heart melts at Winter’s observance. She notices, even if it’s the most minuscule little thing. Winter always notices, and unlike the insincerity pouring from other people when they say they’re only one call away, Winter actually is. She’s one call, one text, one anything away.
“Come on, talk to me.” So you do. You tell her everything from the start. The very start.
You tell her that from the moment you met Seungmin, your mind had started crafting a romance story, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was working part-time at a coffee shop, and you’re not exactly sure how it happened, but you remember the cold sensation of coffee all over you and a promise to make it up to you. When he introduced himself, he shook your hand. 
His hand felt like warm cookies dipped in milk. 
And you tell her ever since then, you spent almost every day getting to know Seungmin and his love for the sunrise and the sunset and how passionate he is about singing but rarely ever does it in front of people and how he is repulsed by physical touch but never really minds when it’s with you. He’s still the same boy you met in that coffee shop, albeit he walks more confidently now. He grew into his features and had a broader back now, but he was still the same boy whose hand you held on the way to his dentist appointment. He was still the Kim Seungmin who smiled at you so brightly when he got his braces removed, and continued to smile at you today.
It’s been a long way since that coffee shop, but he’s remained to be the one true constant in your life. You’re convinced you were always destined to meet him. You reason it’s because you’d be a completely different person now if it wasn’t for him. If you hadn’t met at that coffee shop, you’re convinced Whoever Is Above would’ve found a way for you to meet over and over and over again. 
Everything carries you to him, as if everything that exists were little boats that sailed directly to him — to where he was waiting. To where he’s still waiting.
And then you tell her about the night of the festival. How you almost kissed him, and how you regret every second after for not just pressing your lips on his. You tell her of his confession, and how you love him tenfold, even before you knew what love was. 
Loving Seungmin was the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. It was falling in love with his eyes and the sound of his laughter and the little things he reserves for you and for your eyes only. 
“Why’d you run away?” It was a valid question. You don’t even know yourself. 
“I guess I was just scared.” You hesitate with your answer, putting your arms around you and staring at nothing in particular. 
“He loves you.” 
“I didn’t know.”
And in hindsight, maybe you should’ve. When you look back for a sign that Seungmin’s loved you all along, you end up finding it interwoven in his teasing. He left so many signs, and you didn’t see a single one. 
There was love in his long, overbearing messages — telling you to eat, asking you about your day, scolding you for worrying him. There was love in his phone calls, in keeping you company in whatever you did because he knows you don’t like the silence very much. The quiet left you alone in your head, and you despised feeling lonely. Love echoed in your laughter and reflected in your smiles even if your jokes weren’t funny. There was love, even in the tiktoks he sent you with the small comment of “us”. It was in the dinners you shared and in the absence of words because he just understood. 
Maybe that’s what love is. Maybe this is what Kim Seungmin’s heart feels like. His love was never made up of grand gestures, it was always in the little things that told you his life is so intertwined with yours.
There was always love all along. 
There still is. 
“He just knows me so well, I thought he could never see me romantically after getting to know all my bad sides.”
“Being known is being loved.” Winter’s words linger in your head as you play a flashback of your years with Seungmin, replaying all the scenes. 
Being known is being loved.
Everything hits you all at once. When he got you that mango shake you loved so much and complained about because it sells out so fast. When you saw the campus dogs and cats that one night, and how he remembered what you said. When he knows you’re deep in thought just because you were chewing at your lips. When he recalls the gift you got a few Christmases ago because it made you so happy. When he lets you borrow the hoodies you mentioned were your favorite. When he memorizes your coffee order by heart.
Love never needed to have the tsunamis and the thunderstorms. Love is just… love. It’s just the quietness, the stillness, the calm. Sometimes, it doesn’t have to feel like a million lightning strikes. It just has to feel like finally letting out that one breath you’ve been holding on for too long.
Being known is being loved. 
“I have to talk to him.”
“I know.”
“I love him.”
“I know.”
“And he loves me.”
“He loves you.”
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seventeen.
It isn’t even 8am when you’re pacing back and forth in front of his dorms. 
You know Seungmin usually wakes up early, but you’re unsure of his sleeping patterns as of recently. You haven’t been given the privilege to know, so you text Jeongin. 
Your fingers drum nervously on the side of your thighs, feet shuffling as you stare at their gate, thinking that any moment, he could walk out. 
Last night, you practiced will-induced self conversations over how you were going to approach Seungmin today. You concluded it best not to practice anything you wanted to tell him. You owed him your honesty and a genuine, sincere undertone in your words and apology.
In all honesty, the moment you had arrived within the vicinity of their dorms, you had contemplated whether you should just continue right. Maybe you could just order an iced Americano at a cafe to remind you of Seungmin. Confrontation never came easy to you. But the thought of being an absentee in his life forever scared you and willed you to take the few steps forward towards the entrance of their dorms. 
However, it’s been a good ten minutes since you arrived, and those ten minutes are not the most kind when you’re feeling nervous and about to throw up. It really leaves a lot of room for thinking, and right now it’s thinking that Seungmin wants absolutely nothing to do with you anymore because he thought you were so repulsed by the idea of him loving you and kissing you (even though you felt quite the opposite).
Just when you were about to take a step backward and contemplate the rest of your life, Jeongin walks out of the building pulling a still very sleepy and very disoriented Seungmin behind him.
“Okay, kiss and make up.” Jeongin clasps his hands together before pointing a threatening finger at you. “Don’t mess this up again.” And then he’s on his way back to the inside of their dorm building (peeking through their windows from time to time).
The first thing you discern is his incredibly puffy eyes. From sleeping or crying? You don’t know. And then it’s his pathetic attempt to smile even though he doesn’t feel like it. Seeing him like this, because of you, makes you want to fall on your knees and weep. 
Your eyes trail to the rest of him – his messy hair, his slumped shoulders, his slightly shaking hands. The instinct to hold it is strong, you know it always manages to calm him down. But you don’t. 
“(Name).” His voice sounds thick and heavy, looking at your eyes for a second before looking back down on the pavement. You recognize the pitch of his voice. He was sad and unsure. 
You take a few steps forward, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he meets your eyes again. It has the same look the day he confessed to you. The same tilting of his head ever so slightly, albeit a little more tired and a little less hopeful. His eyes look like they’re filled with quiet thoughts, looking at you gently even though you had shattered them. 
Seungmin, for the first time in a long time, looks regretful.
“Seungmin, I wanted to… I… I’m sorry.” He simply nods his head, sucking in a shark breath as he thinks this was it. This was the rejection he’d been dreading to hear.
“It’s okay.” He murmurs, your apology threatening to send a new wave of tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said what I said especially when I know you don’t feel the same.”
“Wait, what? No… no. Seungmin, that’s not it.”
There’s a long pause before you speak again. 
“I just… dd you really mean it? What you said yesterday?”
Seungmin cringes at himself, but the red blossoming on his cheeks and the way his features soften when he remembers his words give him away. With a defeated sigh, he runs a hand through his hair.
“Yes.” He admits, an unknown feeling swelling in the pit of his stomach.
That’s all you needed to hear. 
Placing your palms on each side of his face, you pull him towards you in what you thought would be a romantic show of your feelings.
Instead, you underestimate his height and your lips crash into his nose instead. Seungmin stiffens in surprise, at the sudden proximity of your face to his and the accidental kiss you pressed on his nose, and then he laughs. 
Seungmin laughs in the hopeless, clumsy, breathless, exhilarating kind of laugh that sends your cheeks flushing and your heart fluttering because you’ve missed that laugh so much.
He was never sure he acted right that night, that he wasn’t being selfish. But with your palms in his cheeks and your eyes reciprocating the same love all along, he knows he did the right thing. So, with a gentle sigh of relief, he tilts his head and presses his lips against yours. 
Seungmin feels like he can finally breathe again. He kisses you with every love and affection he’s kept hidden for years and years.
You were venturing into the void of the unknown again, kissing your best friend, but it feels safe. There wasn’t that fear of the uncharted. There was only comfort as it always has been with him. The weight of happiness is so overwhelming, and Seungmin thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than kissing you after years of longing.
When the both of you pull away, the feeling of his arms around your waist and his forehead pressed against yours and the fond look on his face sends you toppling over. This was the image of your dreams.
He mirrors the soft smile on your face, hand moving to trace your face and your jaw before placing another kiss on your nose, and your cheek, and the corner of your lips. Your skin tingles at the way his lips and his warm breath tickles you, and your heart skips a bit when you realize you don’t mind feeling this every day for the rest of your life. 
“Can I hear you say it?” He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.
“I love you.” 
Seungmin feels wholeheartedly content, heart bursting and ears burning red at hearing you utter those three words he’s dreamt about.
“I’ve loved you since you begged me to come with you to your dentist appointment.” 
And then he laughs again, pressing his pointer finger on your forehead with a slight betrayal in his eyes.
“You’re telling me I could’ve kissed you for years now?” He speaks in exaggeration, and you know he’s truly thinking about it.
“You have all the time in the world now.”
“You know what? I like the sound of that.” He moves his hands from your face in favor of wrapping them around your waist – pulling you in the type of hug where you can completely relax against him and melt into his familiar intimacy. The one that’s been there all along, although a little held back. 
You don’t know what’s next. With the vastness and unpredictability of the earth you stand on, you don’t know what follows. The busy morning highway is starting to fill your ears, and the sound of lives starting echos from afar. Somewhere in the distance, someone’s phone rings and there’s a sound of laughing and running from students alike. 
You find that in the chorus of laughter and honking horns and ringtones, the world is telling you that you don’t have to know what’s next. All you need to know is the inhale and exhale and the quietness that Seungmin’s heart offers. 
He’ll be here for a long time, continuing to know and know and know and love you.
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eighteen.
8:24am
jeongin: FUCKING FINALLY
minho: ????
chan: language
8:25am
jeongin: (sent a picture)
hyunjin: oh my god????
changbin: our seungmin’s a big boy now
jisung: wdym i wont have to hear seungmin’s mopy ass anymore
chaeryeong: ^^ same with yn :(( but also so happy lol
8:26am
ryujin: EVERYONE CHEERED
jeongin: everyone say thank you jeongin
winter: u mean thank u winter???
hyunjin: felix is crying again
chan: WHY
felix: love is beautiful
changbin: me and who
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note. hi hi thank u for making it to the very end of my first ever stray kids fic. i hope you ended up enjoying the ride ^_^ lmk what u thought and who i should write for next!
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 7 months
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Do It For Him | Keep Quiet For Me | Jeon Jungkook
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Summary: You're on a family vacation but Jungkook wants you no matter the risk... Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 2.3k~ Warnings: Explicit language, an injury and blood, smuttttt and infidelity (but it's difh so duh lmao) and barely edited but yeah that's normal for me lmao a/n: This is response to someone asking for a drabble of in regards to my answer on this ask thank you to the anon/s that were interested in this and sorry it took so long to get out 😭 I was very very burnt out on this story so I hope this'll make up for it Series Masterlist
"Do you need anything? I'm gonna run inside and go to the bathroom" I whisper to my husband while we're lounging outside with the rest of the family. "No that's okay, you go ahead" he says and I respond with a quick okay and give him a quick kiss before standing up. 
"Actually" he say, grabbing my hand to stop me from leaving just yet. I hum in acknowledgment, waiting to hear his request. "Do you think you could grab me another beer? Take your time in there though" he says giving me a sluggish smile, telling me he's fully relaxed and that I should probably follow up that beer with some water. "Sure honey" I say, grabbing both of our empty Kloud bottles and heading inside. 
Walking into the house I first go into the kitchen to throw away the bottles but on my way I grab my phone out of my pocket to check a notification that came in but before I'm even able to turn it on I feel one of the bottle slip from my grasp and fall on the floor, smashing and scattering the glass all over the floor. 
"Perfect" I groan under my breath and start crouching down to pick it all up. "Need a hand?" Jungkook asks raising his eyebrows after seeing the mess I've made. "No I'm fine I can take care of this on my own" I grumble and continue to pick up the shards while Jungkook just stands there staring at me. 
"What do you want Jungkook?" I ask after a few moments pass by and realize he's been starting at my chest this whole time. "Don't you think that bathing suit is a little...revealing?" he asks as he continues to stare, not even bothering to look me in the eye. 
"Last time I checked I didn't ask for your opinion and I'm still not asking for it now. Can you please just go back outside?" I ask and go to pick up another shard but when Jungkook tries to say something else I grab it too quickly and slice my hand.
"Shit" I say and stand up and grab a towel to prevent it from bleeding while I walk over to the bathroom to wash it. "There should be a first aid kit in there" Jungkook calls after me as he trails behind. "I know, why do you think I'm going to wash it in the bathroom instead of the kitchen?" I ask, pointing out how stupid it would be to tell me something I already am aware of. I've got accident prone kids so you would think it was important for me to find that right away. 
"Right" he mumbles to himself, trying to stem off the irritation in his voice. "What do you really want Jungkook?" I ask, since there's clearly something else he wants. 
"What I really wanna do is fuck that pretty attitude out of you but let's worry about fixing that hand up first Angel" he says, coming up behind me and placing a strong grasp on my hips as I wash the blood off. 
"Real funny Jeon now can you just leave? I can take care of this on my own" I say, clumsily trying to open the box but struggling to the point that Jungkook just opens it for me. "I said I could do it myself" I say, glaring at him even though I know I needed the help. "Sure you could" he responds with a taunting smile. 
Rolling my eyes at him I sift through the products and find an antiseptic and a bandaid big enough for the area. I go to rip the package open with my teeth but he takes it out of my hand before I'm able to. "I said I didn't want your help" I reply but hold out my hand anyways. "I know but you need it if we want to get this done before you bleed out" he says, focusing on the task at hand. 
"Don't be so dramatic I-" "Shh" "Did you ju-" "Shh" he shushes me again and I let out a big sigh but ultimately let him take care of it. 
"There, all better" he says, throwing away everything and I moved out of the way so he could use the sink to wash up. "Thank you" I mumble and he pauses for a second, "Thank you? Where's that smart mouth from earlier" he asks while drying his hands. "I was in pain and irritated alright just forget it" I say and turn to walk out. "That's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I mumble and before I'm able to walk out of the bathroom he pull me back in. 
"What was that Angel? I didn't quiet catch that?" he asks, me now pressed up against the sink facing the mirror again with him pressing up against me. "I said that's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I say glaring up at him in the mirror before focusing on trying to push him off. 
"Get off of me" I say, pushing my hips back against his and it then that I can feel how hard he's gotten. "That's not fair love. I took care of you and I think it's only fair if you help take care of me" he taunts rubbing his dick against my ass. "Jungkook stop everyone is outside" I plea, trying to knock some sense into him.
"Jungkook stop we can't do this" I say, slapping his hands away when they toy with the tie on my hip. "Why not angel? As long as you stay quiet no one will know" he says, pulling on the tie and sliding them down my legs, now only wearing my bikini top and a small cover I had over it which he slides down my shoulders next. 
"Let's take care of that attitude huh? Looks like someone forgot who they were talking to" he says, sliding his right hand down my stomach and his left up to hold my throat. "Jungkook please sto-" is all I manage to get out before he traces a finger through my folds, making me shudder at the contact. 
"Looks like someone was just begging to get fucked weren't they? Look" he say, showing me his finger, already soaked in my arousal. I try to look to turn my head away, hating that my body always responds to him but he grabs my jaw and turns me back to face the mirror. 
"Nuh uh, you're gonna be a good girl and watch. Watch me fuck that attitude right out of you just like I wanted to" he says, sliding his hand down from my jaw to my neck, applying just enough pressure to remind me of the control he has over me. 
"Let's see if you can cum on my fingers first huh? Think you could do that?" he asks and I don't answer, not wanting to play into his games. "Silent treatment huh? Cute" he says and applies more pressure before putting two fingers inside without warning. I choke back a moan, shocked up the stretch and the slight pain it brings. 
"If you want me to be gentle with you then you need to talk to me" he says, applying more pressure on my throat as if mocking me. Daring me to say something smart but I don't. "Let's try this again. You think you can cum on my fingers princess?" he asks and I shake my head slightly, wanting him to just fuck me and get this over with. 
"Really? Because I think you can. Let's test that theory" he says before he starts pushing his fingers in and out, dragging them along my walls while rubbing his thumb on my clit, all while holding my head up and making me watch as my face starts to contort in pleasure. "There you go princess, focus on how good it feels" he says, pumping his fingers in a bit faster and adding a third once I've stretched out enough. 
"You sure you can't cum? Because from the way you're body is talking to me looks like you're almost there" he taunts, taking note of how hard I'm squeezing his fingers and how my legs have already started shaking. I let out a choked back moan in response and I just hear a dry chuckle from behind, clearly enjoying my struggle in trying to keep quiet and he doesn't let up at all. 
"You're being stubborn aren't you? Trying to prove that I have to work harder to make you cum?" he growls in my ear as I continue to hold myself back, defying his claims and just waiting for him to fuck me and get it over with. 
"Fine since you want this cock so much then why don't you beg for it?" he says while taking out his cock and dragging them up and down my folds, making me purr at the sensation. 'Shit no I cannot give him the satisfaction of knowing that I'm enjoying this fuck!' 
"What was that?" he taunts, giving me a smug smile through the mirror which makes me look away again. He grabs my jaw roughly and brings my face back over again. "What was that princess? You like that?" he says doing it again, making my knees want to give out under me but he steadies me on my feet. 
"Something as simple as this is making you feel like that? Angel was sensitive now wasn't she? Just begging to get fucked and didn't know how to ask for it" he says and presses on my back making my cheek press up against the glass, my breath fogging up the mirror as he lines himself up, giving up on making me beg since we need to finish up fast before anyone notices. 
He pushes in without any notice leaving me biting down on my lip to muffle to sound but it only does so much. He inches inside of me giving me the smallest amount of time to adjust before he's bottomed out. 
"Look at you, such a dirty little slut letting me fuck you in here. Take you from behind while you watch us in the mirror. Is that something that turns you on Angel?" and at that my body betrays me and squeezes his cock, giving him the answer that he already knew would be true. "Fuck, you're incredible" he says, raking his eye up my form before meeting them in the mirror. 
"Keep quiet for me yeah? Wouldn't want anyone to know that you're taking my cock so well while your husband is outside now would we?" he says, trailing his hand up my back and finally untying the last two ties that are keeping my top on. "Or don't. I would love for them to hear what you sound like while you scream my name and beg for more but I don't think you want that now do you Princess?" he asks while placing a kiss on my neck. 
"N-no" I stutter out, knowing better than to not respond this time. He reaches his arm around and pulls me back up with his hand on my throat and makes me make eye contact with him through the mirror. "Then be good and cum on this cock. Can you do that?" he questions and I nod, not trusting my voice this time with the way he's rubbing up against my walls at this angle. 
He lets go of my throat and leaves me reaching out my arms to brace myself, my knuckle white from how hard I'm holding on and seconds later he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before slamming into me, making me go on my tip toes from the force. He drills into me unapologetically while watching my face contort in pleasure through the mirror. 
I can't hold back and I end up letting out barely audible whimpers while he continues to abuse my aching cunt, already close to release. "Fuck Angel loosen up I can barely move" he grunts while I grip his dick so well, seconds from tipping over. "Cum" he growls in my ear and that's the last push I need to lose myself in the feeling, letting out a choked back sob and squirting all over him. 
"Shit" he grunts and picks up the pace of his thrusts, fucking me through my high and tipping himself over to reach his a minute later and he grabs onto my throat again, his other hand on my hip thrusting a few more times until he's spent and both of our releases are dripping out of me. 
"Fuck Princess I didn't know you could squirt" he says while roaming his hands up and down my body, touching me as much as he can before I push him off seconds later when that post nut clarity hits.
"Get out" I choke out, trying to calm myself down and bring my breathing back down to normal. "See you soon love" he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder before walking out. Not bothering to look around to see if anyone might see him leaving.  
I take a deep breath and turn on the shower, getting in and not bothering to wait for the water to heat up, letting myself deal with the chill it brings to my warm skin.
Standing with my face under the stream I try to drown out all the memories of what just happened and how I just let him do that to me. Why do I always just let him get his way? 
I can't keep doing this. I have to tell someone because this secret is suffocating me. 
If I keep it in much longer I don't know what'll become of the person I once was. 
I need to stop this, everything just needs to stop.   
Read the series from the beginning
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lunarw0rks · 1 year
Note
I have a request for Ghost where 141 notices a change in Ghost when he can't wait to get home to a loved one but hasn't told anyone about her yet. They even notice that he smells different at times, has hairbands on his wrist, and is distracted more than usual and maybe even happier. Then they finally put the pieces together and maybe even find evidence that he does have a loved one, Thank you :))
『♡』 masterlist ♡ rules ♡ ask box Warning(s): nothing major, mild language, gn!s/o A/N: soap in this fic reminds me of this scene lmao. also, this is more headcanon/drabbles than a short fic, since those have been easier for me to write lately.
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─── simon hated it, being in love with you. there was a point where his hyper-awarness had dwindled, leaving him lovesick and distracted. regardless, he's a solid lieutenant, hard and ruthless whenever necessary, but it's the little things.
♦ his street clothes don't just smell of tobacco and his natural musk. there's something else, too. your scent. the shampoo and fragrances that you use, are unmistakable to his co-workers.
♦ it wasn't until he was sitting still long enough to smell it, that he panicked. he had been nose-blind, too occupied with a busy day to notice it until now. this whole time, those who had stood next to him throughout the day smelled it too, no doubt.
─── but Simon had to stay calm, he told himself. he could do that, couldn't he? he's always stone-faced and stoic. should be a walk in the park... right? if he played his cards right, no one would notice, no one would tease him - no one would find out about you.
♦ well, that sentiment didn't last long at all...
♦ it went exactly how he pictured it. soap running his mouth, being chatty and persistent to get a rise out of him. and it worked.
♦ "if I were a detective, I'd say ya been caught red-handed, L.T." soap sneered, to simon's dismay. he hadn't said a word; all he was doing was sitting off to the side picturing coming home to you.
♦ the lieutenant replied, forcing his usual scowl. "go bother someone else, Sergeant. I've got no time for childish games." though, since meeting you, that expression had been more difficult to fake. perhaps it was how he bounced his knee anxiously, how he had his head back while daydreaming, or how he fiddled with his scarred fingers more than usual. simon had failed at being subtle, once again.
♦ soap wasn't going to give up that easily, naturally. "the crime of love. head over heels for someone, aren't you? fell so hard you knocked some sense into your hard head, didn't ye?"
♦ "watch yourself, johnny."
─── next, it wasn't just subtle clues to the lieutenant's dating status. it was cold, hard evidence. the gravest mistake he ever made; forgetting to take off one of the hair ties you handed him the day before. or, subconsciously, he kept it to keep a piece of you with him.
♦ no matter the root of the problem, he was screwed. he had officially gone soft... a little soft, at least.
♦ "ghost, you have yesterday's reports?" price asked, preoccupied with the mounds of work on his desk. simon nodded and reached into the bin on the top shelf, his hoodie sleeve rolling down his arm when he did so.
♦ in truth, price could care less about the dating status of his soldiers. all he cared about was that they were punctual and focused - but something about ghost having someone at home, it amused him.
♦ gaz, silently observed from afar, like always. he never spoke, unless spoken to. he was more shocked than anything. simon was never the type in his mind, let alone to be distracted and leave traces of the unknown lover. but, nonetheless, gaz didn't want to lose an eye, so he decided it best to keep his mouth shut.
♦ surprise, surprise.
♦ soap said something again. "hm, i knew it, L.T. you got the hots for someone at home, got it bad, heh." the iciest glare he'd ever received from ghost, was all he got in return. simon yanked his hoodie sleeve back down as if that was going to clear the memory of his vulnerability.
─── "be careful, sergeant, or you'll be lying in the med bay."
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violettwrites · 3 days
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fourth of july — tp!daryl
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summary: tp!daryl and reader celebrate fourth of july at the trailer park.
a/n: hi guys !! pls bare with me bcos i am not american and have never experienced a fourth of july— so i’m just basing this on what i’ve seen on social media and film LMAO
if you enjoyed, please give me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me if you enjoy my stuff and want to read more 😊
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol
word count: 1,550
resources: divide by @adornedwithlight
➸ tp!daryl masterlist
➸ regular masterlist
➸ ask box — requests are open !
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the fourth of july at the trailer park has always been a rowdy affair for as long as you could remember. a huge bonfire would blaze in the field next to the park, kids ran wild with sparklers, and an absurd number of fireworks lit up the sky— sometimes you wondered if it was even legal. add in as much cheap beer as people could drink, and it was clear the holiday was a big deal.
you found yourself standing in the cramped kitchenette with daryl and merle, leaning against the counter as you watched the two brothers debate over what cds to play for the night.
“merle, i swear to fuckin’ god— if you ask for pantera one more time, ‘m gonna cut yer dick off,” daryl grumbled, his hands splayed on the small table, blue eyes narrowed at his older brother.
“what the fuck’s wrong with pantera!?” merle protested, looking genuinely offended.
“it’s all you listen to,” you chimed in, crossing your arms over your chest as you stepped forward to examine the pile of cds scattered across the table. you sifted through them, trying to make sense of the chaotic selection.
“there’s nothin’ wrong with listenin’ to one of the greatest bands of all time,” merle scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. you shot him a pointer glare and started organising the music into piles.
“what are ya doin’?” he asked, while daryl just stood there watching you.
“i’m deciding for you two, since you clearly can’t do it yourselves,” you replied with an exasperated huff. after a minute of sorting, you straightened up. “there. you both get a bit of what you like, but i can’t promise other people won’t complain— there’s gonna be kids, you know?”
you looked up at the brothers, raising an eyebrow. they both shrugged in unison, as if they hadn’t considered it at all. letting out a sigh, you shook your head. you had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
— — —
as the sun dipped lower into the sky, casting a fiery orange glow across the trailer park, the smell of barbecue and bonfire smoke filled the air. laughter and the occasional pop of firecrackers echoed through the grounds as more neighbours showed up, ready for the fourth of july festivities. the giant bonfire had already been lit, kids were chasing each other around with their sparklers, their excited shreks cutting through the air.
back inside the trailer, the tension between you, daryl, and merle simmered down as the playlist issue was officially resolved. daryl seemed a little more relaxed now, his gruff demeanour softening just a bit when he glanced your way.
“thanks for sortin’ that mess out,” daryl muttered low enough so merle didn’t hear. he cracked open a beer before handing you one, his fingers brushing against your own.
merle, never one to stay still for too long, grabbed a couple of the cds you’d organised. “guess i’ll take these out,” he grumbled, clearly still not thrilled with the lack of pantera, but made his way outside anyway. “y’all can figure out the rest, i’m gonna make sure people are celebratin’ properly.”
daryl gave a nod of his head toward his brothers retreating figure, causing you to let out a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. “properly, huh? i don’t even think i wanna know what he’s up to.”
daryl shook his head, the corner of his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “means he’s gonna get drunker than hell and try to light more fireworks than the kids.”
you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes as you leaned against the counter, beer in hand, watching as daryl settled into the chair across the small kitchenette, his usual brooding expression easing. the sounds of the party outside filtered in, but in here, it was just the two of you, the tension of the chaotic party slowly bleeding away in the quiet moments.
“y’know,” you said after a beat, swirling the beer in your hand. “for all the crazy shit that happens every fourth of july, i kinda like it.”
daryl’s eyes met yours, something soft and unreadable flickering in them for a moment. “yeah, ain’t so bad. ‘specially with you ‘ere.”
your heart gave a small flutter at his words, and before you could respond, there was a loud bang outside, followed by a chorus of whoops and hollers. you both shared a glance— merle was definitely up to something already.
“wanna see what kinda trouble your brother’s gotten into already?” you ask with a grin, pushing off the counter and heading towards the door.
daryl rolled his eyes but stood up. “better make sure he ain’t blown off a hand yet.”
the sun had fully set by the time you and daryl stepped outside to join in on the festivities, a chorus of laughter and fireworks filling the air. merle, true to his word, was already in the thick of it— his rowdy voice carrying over the crowd as he set off firecrackers dangerously close to a group of onlookers.
“jesus,” you muttered under your breath, watching as a few sparks nearly hit someone. daryl shook his head beside you, but you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk pulling at his lips.
“he’s gonna blow ‘imself up one day,” daryl grumbled, though it was clear he wasn’t too concerned. you chuckled, judging him lightly with your elbow.
“maybe one of these years he’ll learn to take it easy.”
“doubt it,” daryl replied, taking a sip from his beer before glancing at you. “you wanna sit down or somethin’? could use a break from all this shit.”
you nodded, grateful for the idea. the two of you wove through the crowd towards the bonfire, it’s flames flickering wildly in the night. a few lawn chairs had been set up in a circle, mostly occupied by people chatting or shouting at each other over the sound of music and fireworks.
daryl dragged over an empty chair and motioned for you to take it. “‘ere.”
you raised an eyebrow. “you’re not sitting?”
“i will,” he said, grabbing another chair from a nearby stack and setting it next to your chair. he plopped down on it, looking as casual as ever with his forearms resting on his knees.
as you both settled in, the chaotic energy of the trailer park seemed to face, replaced by the crackling of the fire and the occasional whistle of fireworks overhead. for a while, the two of you just sat there, enjoying the warmth of the flames and the cool night air. there was something peaceful about it— being close to daryl in the middle of all the noise.
after a while, he leaned over slightly, his voice low. “ya know, i ain’t much for crowds. but this—“ he gestured vaguely to the people around, “ain’t so bad with you.”
you smiled, his quiet compliment sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the bonfire. “same here,” you said softly, free hand to reach for his so you could intertwine your fingers with his.
the two of you watched the fire, and for a moment, everything else seemed to melt away. you could help but steal a glance at him— his sharp features softened in the firelight, his usual rough edges not so intimidating now. he noticed you looking, meeting your gaze with a raised brow.
“somethin’ on my face?”
you laughed softly, shaking your head. “just thinkin’. can’t believe you get stuck dealing with merle on nights like this.”
“someone’s gotta keep him from burnin’ the whole damn place down,” daryl chuckled lightly, looking at you.
“guess that makes you the responsible one, huh?” you teased, taking a sip of your beer.
daryl smirked, tilting his head slightly. “don’ know ‘bout that.”
you were about to respond when another loud crack erupted in the distance, followed by a round of cheers. merle was lighting off more fireworks— ones that shot high into the air and exposed in brilliant colours. the sky filled with bursts of red, blue, and gold, reflecting off the faces of everyone watching.
as the night went on, laughter and music filled the air once again, and you realized this moment—this feeling—was exactly what you loved about these gatherings. with daryl by your side, it felt like home, even amidst the chaos of the celebrations.
the two of you settled into your seats, fingers still intertwined, as the night unfolded around you. you exchanged glances, each one filled with unspoken understanding and warmth. fireworks continued to light up the sky, their vibrant colors reflected in the excitement of the crowd.
“you think merle’s got any more tricks up his sleeve?” you asked, a playful grin spreading across your face.
daryl chuckled softly, shaking his head. “if he does, we’ll be in for quite a show.”
you leaned back in your chair, the warmth of the bonfire wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. the sounds of laughter and celebration filled your senses, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. you couldn’t wait to see what other memories the night would bring, knowing that whatever happened, you were right where you wanted to be—with daryl, enjoying the wildness of the fourth of july together.
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tiddygame · 3 months
Text
Ghoap god type au part 4! Now on Ao3!
part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7
I have not slept in A While because meds are meds so I don't know if this makes sense! Let's Go!!!
And shout out to these people for making me happy stim by requesting to be tagged! I hope this chapter is worthy of such an honor lmao:
@imjustheretofightforlove / @pieckyghost / @life-as-a-gamergirl
Ghost doesn’t know why he continued to give offerings to the god. He should have stopped when he had the chance, but he didn’t. Flowers, jewelry, rocks he thought looked cool, even an entire wallet he stole from a soldier who got on his nerves; It all went on the offering table. 
Something had changed. He doesn’t know what, but there was a difference. And not knowing was terrifying. Ghost liked to compartmentalize, to think things through and sort them into organized boxes. Decluttering the unknown was how he stayed sane.
If there is a problem, do not panic, just figure out what you can do. And if you can do nothing, then you have no reason to panic. The rigid line of thought was the only way he could trick himself into thinking he had any control over his life, that fate hadn’t already woven her strings.
So how do you think through something beyond your comprehension?
Try as he might, he could not and would never be able to truly understand divinity. There was no rationale he could apply to Soap that didn’t make his ears ring. It was all well within arms reach but firmly out of his grasp.
He shouldn’t continue to show patronage to something so unpredictable, so volatile.
“Besides,” Soap said, making eye contact once more. He grinned. It didn’t look human. “I’m not letting you go that easy.”
And yet, every night he would take his dinner to whatever lousy altar he’d created and sit down to eat with an entity that could kill him without raising a finger, would eat and talk to him like they were friends. He’s not sure of when he lost his fucking mind, but it was certainly long gone.
Everything about the god terrified him. It was ancient, domineering over one of the most prevalent parts of humanity. Everything had to die someday, and at the end of it all, Soap would still be there, even as it died too.
So when he appeared behind Ghost at a bookstore of all places, he damn near shit himself. 
He just wanted a book to occupy his time between battles, a distraction from the boredom of downtime. It was the same town as before, barely a few weeks since their impromptu meeting in the temple. He had been perusing the shelves and grabbed a book that caught his eye, some book about the history of the town, and was reading the back of it when someone was very suddenly right next to him.
“Anything interesting?”
Ghost flinched, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there as he turned to face the person who somehow got the jump on him. And just like everything else with the god, he doesn’t know how he knew that the person was Soap in disguise.
He looked nothing like the renditions he’d seen of the god; The man before him was short and had pale skin, light brown hair, and brown eyes. He looked about as non-descript as a human could get. Yet, he still knew that the man was no man at all, but a god that came from the heavens just to make his life miserable.
“Why are you here?” Ghost was too on edge and confused to put the fearful respect in his tone that he normally used when speaking to the god.
“I just came here to look for books, the same as you,” he replied, trying to keep a straight face and play it earnestly but smiling far too much.
Ghost didn’t dignify that with a response, continuing to stare down at him, book still in hand.
Soap sighed, “Alright, alright Mr. Grumpy, maybe I wanted to talk to you again.”
Ghost asked, “Why?” But he realized that probably wouldn’t get him the answer he wanted, “What do you need to talk about?” He was hoping to cut through the small talk and jump right to the essentials.
“I said want. Not need.” Soap corrected. When Ghost looked even more exasperated, he whisper-shouted, “I’ve been stuck in limbo for who the fuck knows how long! I need stimulation! Interaction! Conversation! Anything!”
Oh, gods above, this is the worst torture the god could have devised. He’d rather take eternal pain and misery over becoming a chatty god’s only conversation partner. Fuck, he’s done a lot of bad shit, but nothing to deserve this!
The god grabbed the book out of his hand from where he was still standing petrified and dumbfounded. Soap looked at the book, hummed, and then began browsing the aisle himself.
Soap mused aloud, “I’m not surprised you’re a history nerd… Is there anything else here that’s more interesting?”
A few weeks ago, the god had been so weak he could barely conjure a physical form, now he was in a bookstore to make fun of him?
“The god of death is calling me a nerd with shit taste.” Ghost hadn’t meant to vocalize that thought, but he was still trying to mentally catch up. 
It seemed to catch the god off guard as well, with him snorting as he tried to cover his mouth to stop from laughing, “I didn’t mean ye’ have shit taste, I meant history isn’t an interesting read when you lived through it.”
And at Ghost’s core, he was nothing if not a pain, so even as he was scrambling to figure out what was happening, he pointed out, “But you weren’t alive. You said you were in limbo.”
“Okay, smart-ass. Alive, limbo, whatever. I need a story — one I haven’t heard before.”
“Do you even know how to read?”
His accent became thicker with indignation, “‘Course I do!” 
“This language?” Ghost asked, gesturing to the shelves.
Soap immediately responded, “Ye—,” he cut himself off, looking at the book he grabbed from Ghost. It was upside-down and he twisted his hand awkwardly to have it back upright, squinting at it as he answered, now positive, “Yeah!”
Ghost mumbled, “Hmm, I figured you’d only be able to read dead languages.”
That one got a full laugh out of the god, he desperately tried to quiet his chuckles before they were told off for being too loud. Ghost isn’t sure why, but he felt oddly proud.
Soap was still smiling in an effort to stop laughing as he said, “That would make sense I suppose.” It seemed that not being able to laugh only made the situation funnier, huffing air out of his nose in a quiet giggle. “Well! What book would you suggest?”
Ghost pointed to the other side of the bookstore, “I’d suggest you stop looking in the non-fiction section.”
Soap looked around, muttering a curse under his breath. Seeing where Ghost had pointed, Soap grabbed his hand and dragged him along. Ghost was too surprised by the sudden contact to fight it, which was probably for the best. He may love his personal space, but he loved not getting smote even more. 
“Okay, well, now what book would you suggest?” Soap repeated himself, this time not bothering to browse the shelves as he looked at Ghost for a recommendation. 
Sighing in resignation, “What genres do you like?” If he could get this done with quickly enough, he might still have some time to himself before he had to return to camp. 
“I don’t know. All of them I guess.”
He is not going to get this done with quickly enough to have some time to himself before he has to return to camp.
Ghost let out an even longer sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before coming to a solution. The store had their books sorted by genre, so it would be easy enough to grab one or two from each and then get Soap to pick one. 
The god of death’s personal shopper. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Luckily for both of them, Ghost has had an exorbitant amount of downtime and knew of a few popular ones that weren’t complete garbage. Death seemed content to trail behind him as he picked out the books, admiring the simple building.
The store had large windows facing west, golden light stretching over the shelves and reaching across the floor to tell Ghost how much time he was wasting. The smart thing would have been to just grab a random book, sing its praises, and hope he didn’t get called out on his bullshit. Of course, that would require being smart, so instead Ghost went through almost the entire fiction section, ending with a total of seven books. 
The stack of books was ridiculously tall as he set them down on a table at the back, intending to explain them to Soap and let him pick a couple. 
“This is everything, one book each from most of the genres.” Ghost backed away when Soap stepped closer, looking like an owl as he turned his head sideways to read the spines. Ghost gave up trying to understand the god. 
He pointed to the one on top, “This one is—“
“Fantastic! I’ll take them all,” Soap said, completely ignoring what Ghost was about to say. 
“What?”
“I’ll take them all!” Soap repeated, as if he hadn’t been clear enough the first time. He grabbed the stack of books, adding the one he’d snatched from Ghost to the pile as he walked to the counter.
“But… You don't have any money…” Ghost’s quiet protest went unheard as Soap walked away. He had a small existential crisis as he wondered what mistake he made that led him to this exact moment. He decided the mistake was being born as he followed after the god of death, knowing he probably wouldn’t have enough to cover the books.
Soap set down the books next to the cash register and gleefully asked, “How much for all of these?”
The shopkeeper looked a little surprised at the size of the stack but began checking them and adding up the cost. Even without seeing the number, Ghost was already bemoaning having to explain to a divine being how the economy and poverty work.
But apparently, Soap wasn’t done confusing him as he grabbed a wallet out of his pocket and began pulling out credits as the shopkeeper gave the total. 
At first, Ghost checked his own pocket thinking Soap had managed to steal his wallet and was in for a rude awakening when he found out Ghost was broke, but his wallet was still there. He wasn’t going to ask in front of the shopkeeper where he got it, but curiosity was eating at him. 
Ghost stared at the wallet. He recognized it vaguely but didn’t know from where. It was only when Soap was putting it away that he realized it was the one he’d stolen from that annoying soldier and offered to the god.
And who said your misdeeds come back to haunt you?
Once the books were all bagged, Soap gestured towards it and Ghost sighed as he grabbed the paper bag, supporting the bottom as it was lifted off the counter. Mirroring the same motion, Ghost gestured towards the door. Part of him was curious if the god would pop back out of existence when he walked into the light like he did last time.
Ghost whispered once they were far enough away, “You know I stole that wallet, right?”
Soap snorted, “That’s what made it one of my favorites.”
Ghost let go of the handles of the bag, only holding it from the bottom, and opened the door for Soap. Soap nodded in thanks like everything that had transpired over the last two or so hours was a normal interaction. 
Fortunately, the god did not vanish upon stepping outside, disproving his theory.
No, it was unfortunate. He wanted this to be done with. He didn’t want to keep talking to Soap.
His mouth didn’t seem to get the memo as he started to ask, “Why did you actu—”
“Ghost!”
The shout from someone behind him immediately sucked out any positive feelings he had. His usual glare was back as he turned to face the voice. There were two soldiers, a miserable little search party that looked disgusted at even having to go near Ghost.
“The General needs you for something.”
Of fucking course he does. He risked a glance to where Soap had been standing, unsurprised to see that he’d vanished. Ghost didn’t give them a verbal answer, just glared at them until they both began shifting where they were standing.
He felt a little relieved at being able to put the threatening tone back in his voice as he informed them, “I’ll be back before dinner.”
The one that spoke before looked to his partner and tried to forcefully say, “He needs you now.”
Ghost stepped closer, looming over them as he repeated, “I said I will be back before dinner.” He waited a moment, making sure they were properly threatened before he turned around and walked in the opposite direction of camp.
“Why were you at a bookstore?” One of them called out, almost accusatory as if it would stop him from leaving. He had forgotten about the rumor that he couldn’t read; He doesn’t know how it started, but it was a favorite amongst his fellow soldiers.
“What bookstore?” Ghost yelled back, not bothering to turn around.
The forest looked beautiful in the orange light of the setting sun. He was heading back to the temple, not because he missed Soap, but because it was the only place they wouldn’t be able to find him. If he really was needed, there would be soldiers crawling all over town searching for him.
He didn’t like going somewhere so secluded without his sword, but it was back at camp and he was not going back yet, wanting to piss off the general as much as he could. He hadn’t wanted to walk into the village with such an obvious weapon on his hip out of respect for the residents, but now it meant he only had a hunting knife to defend himself with. Nothing to sneeze at, obviously, but he would have felt a lot more comfortable making the hike through the forest with a heavier weapon.
A chill began to take hold as the sun dipped below the horizon. A cold front came through a few days prior that made sure the days were a lovely charming example of the upcoming fall weather and that the nights were frigid enough to make anyone regret not being on a tropical island.
He made the trek much quicker this time, now knowing the path. Which was a very good thing as the shadows grew stronger as he made his way through the trees, trying to make him trip on roots that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
When he got to the temple, he set the bag down and made quick work of gathering a small amount of firewood and kindling with the last of the waning sunlight, the chill turning into a freezing wind. His fingers shook slightly as he made a small campfire near the empty doorway to the right of the statue, paranoid about proper ventilation even with all of the cracks in the roof.
Using the light to see, he pulled down some of the vines, setting both them and the greener wood near the fire. Hopefully, they would dry quickly enough to be used later in the night. He quickly sorted through the books, taking them out and setting Soap’s collection to the side. 
He was trying to read the first page of his book when Soap appeared again. He didn’t look up as he greeted, “Good evening.”
“I do not like the way they treat you.” The god was blunt and Ghost couldn’t help but huff a small laugh at the amount of simmering anger the god held over what was a standard interaction for him.
“No?” Ghost asked, wondering why being told to return to camp was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
But he may have underestimated Soap’s anger as the god answered, “No. They don’t get to speak to you like that.” The sentence was punctuated by the campfire flaring slightly, the flames suddenly rising higher, illuminating more of the temple before they rescinded.
Ghost looked up at that, moving the book away to stop it from getting singed. He was not ashamed to admit that he was nervous, he just would never tell Soap that. To have him suddenly swap from someone friendly and charming to an undeniably pissed-off god was alarming.
“Uh—”
“They treat you like a fucking dog and can’t even speak to you with a shred of respect?”
The god’s form was flickering. This is what Ghost wanted, to know the tipping point for the god, but he wasn’t sure if this was the scenario in which he wanted to find out. He’d prefer for it to have been on the battlefield, the god having lost its patience with protecting him, not next to a campfire in his own temple.
“Soap—”
“Why do you fucking stay? They have no fucking right!”
The flames flared again and Ghost grabbed the handle of his knife. Just like the last time he was at the temple, he knew it would do nothing, but he could at least find comfort in the lie.
Soap noticed the movement, making eye contact. Soap was still breathing heavily and Ghost was doing the same, albeit for very different reasons. The god heaved a sigh, slouching over as he covered his face with his hands.
Once more, despite all rationale screaming otherwise, Ghost stayed. There was a long silence, the only noise being the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the wind. 
The god was sitting with his legs crossed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands propped up his head. He was still staring at the ground when he asked, “Why? Why do you stay?”
“It’s complicated.” 
Soap looked unimpressed, “No, it isn’t.”
“No,” Ghost agreed. “But it’s a story I don’t like to tell.”
The god let out a long breath like he was trying to calm himself down as he rubbed at his eyes, “Didn’t you say you’d be back for dinner?”
“I lied. Late morning at the earliest.” Soap chuckled, much more tinged with defeat than it had been a few hours ago. The silence was back and Ghost hesitated before grabbing his book again.
“Thank you.”
Ghost wasn’t expecting that and felt a bolt of panic strike through him, not knowing what the god was thanking him for. 
Soap gestured towards the stack of books, “For humoring me today. I haven’t laughed in a long time. Thank you.”
The somber tone settled over him, the emotional whiplash from the past ten minutes alone was enough to make his head spin. Unsure of what else to say, he stuttered, “You’re welcome.” It sounded a lot more like a question than he intended.
Soap nodded and let his head fall again. 
And, just like that, he was gone, fading away with the wind. He stared at where the god sat, ruminating over his words. When he came back to the present, he saw that the books were gone as well.
He would have laughed, Death having grabbed his haul of books and scurried off in the breeze, but the honesty behind the god’s not-quite confession weighed on him. He tried to read, but was only flipping pages as his eyes ran over the words, not taking anything in.
He’s been in this situation before, waiting out time to piss off the general and he knew how it went. Sleep wasn’t an option; He always found something to occupy himself with to stave off the inevitable boredom. He was lucky to have a book this time, but try as he might, he couldn’t focus on it.
He gave up on reading and instead turned his focus to the campfire in front of him. He added another log carefully, taking care to not smother any of the other sticks. He didn’t have much fuel and he’d need to make it last until sunrise. 
Ghost woke up to light streaming in through the open doorway and birds chirping obnoxiously loud. He grumbled and tried to go back to sleep before remembering that he was never supposed to be asleep in the first place.
He tried to get up quickly, to stand to attention and scan for any threats or changes that indicated someone had come in during his nap. Instead, he sat up slowly, having to prop himself up on his arm to not lie back down.
His fire was miraculously still burning. The temple looked the same, there weren’t any assassins hiding in the corners, and his stuff hadn’t moved. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to remember that he never went to sleep with a blanket or pillow, yet now had both.
Instead of thinking about that, he stood slowly, his joints popping along the way. He yawned as he gathered his stuff, smothering the fire and folding up his bedding. Still not even half awake, he dropped the pillow and blanket at the base of the statue.
He grumbled out what was meant to be an expression of gratitude, but he’s not sure he got any of the syllables out. Taking as deep of a breath as he could to try to wake himself up, he began the walk to the river. 
It’s a miracle he didn’t get lost as he stumbled through the woods, listening for the sound of rushing water. When he finally got to it, he was sure to avoid getting too close to the slippery bank, not feeling like drowning so early in the morning.
He walked over the ramshackle bridge that crossed the river and led into camp in the early afternoon. Just like last time, most of the soldiers quieted upon seeing him. And, just like last time, the general came stomping out of his tent, though this time significantly angrier
“I need you to listen to me carefully,” he began, seething with so much anger over Ghost’s disobedience that he was twitching. “I am going to give you ten seconds to explain yourself. If you do not have a good reason for why you went AWOL, you are going to wish you had never been born, am I understood?” 
Ghost had mastered the voice of false innocence and remorse, “I’m sorry General, I wasn’t paying attention and got delayed by an hour.”
“An hour?” The general had a deceptively calm tone, one that spoke of being on the edge of doing something drastic. But the general was no god and Ghost had no qualms about giving him a shove.
“Yes sir, I know I said noon. I’m sorry for being late.” Ghost hung his head like he was ashamed. He was already mapping out a lie to explain why he arrived almost a full 24 hours after the search party said he would.
“Noon?” The general asked. Both of them were playing a very dangerous game, weaponizing an unstable but calm facade and putting on a little show for the rest of camp to sit back and watch.
“Yes sir.”
“I was told that you said you’d be back before dinner.”
Ghost lifted his head and glanced around, furrowing his brow in faux confusion, “Before dinner? No sir, I was trying to hunt for something to bring back to camp. They caught me right before I went into the forest; I might have said I was trying to find something for dinner, but I knew it would take me much longer than that.” Oh, how Ghost loved gaslighting.
The general’s lip curled, thinking he found a thread to pull, “Do you normally go hunting at night, son?” The words were full of poison, but Ghost already had an excuse.
“No sir, I looked for tracks yesterday afternoon, set up camp, and woke up early this morning to hunt. Unfortunately, I was no—”
“He’s lying!” One of the soldiers shouted, walking closer and shaking off his friend trying to pull him back. “He was walking out of a store! He wasn’t hunting!” Ah, that must be one-half of the search party.
Now emboldened, the other half approached from the stables, and joined in, “Yeah, he was leaving a bookstore with some guy.”
Uh-oh, that’s not good. He didn’t realize that they saw Soap. 
He was trying to figure out if he should outright deny it or try to claim that he, the notorious loner, had made a friend in town. A friend that just so happened to leave that day so they couldn’t ask for him to verify Ghost’s story. Hmm…
“What? No, he was alone.”
Never mind, that’s perfect; Only one of them saw Soap.
The two began arguing over whether or not Ghost had been alone and Ghost “timidly” chimed in, “Bookstore?”
The first one that had spoken paused his argument and turned back to the general, “He even had a shopping bag!”
Adding fuel to the flames of their anger, Ghost made a point of looking at his hands to show they were empty. He gently corrected like he was just trying to help the two remember, “I was walking out of a general store. Alone. I needed berries for bait.” 
The rest of the camp gave odd looks to the search party, the rumor of his inability to read not helping their legitimacy. Now he just had to hope they didn’t ask why he didn’t have any camping or hunting supplies aside from a small bag. 
The general looked more irritated than irate, “That’s enough. All three of you are being punished for insubordination. For now just get the hell out of my sight until tomorrow morning.”
Ghost tried not to smile too wide as he nodded and walked away, very happy that the general reached his limit before more glaring holes could be poked in his story. The other two looked offended at getting punished with him, one standing slack-jawed as the other even tried to argue before getting dragged away by his friend before he could dig himself a deeper grave.
Ghost was going to be punished regardless of what he did or when he returned, but dragging the other two down with him was well worth it. Plus, the rest of the camp would now think they were liars as well who tried and failed to get him punished.
All in all, it was a rather successful trip to the bookstore.
Had he been paying more attention, thinking more clearly, he might’ve thought to hide his tracks, to not leave an obvious trail to where’d been, to hide the evidence of his time spent at the temple of the god of death.
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