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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

can you do a ghost version of the Memories of Youth fic you did for price please?

Harvest Storms

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Daughter!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Angst, emotionally distant father/Simon, injuries, arguments, mentions of Simon's past, hurt/comfort, fluff near the end, etc.

A/N: I know this might be controversial but I really don't see Simon wanting kids so I tried to keep this realistic but also cute, lmao. Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Simon admitted that having a kid was never on his to-do list, and it wasn’t only his job that caused that. In fact, at any point in his life, the thought alone terrified him.

His icy eyes spaced out as the man unstrapped his combat vest in the on-base armory, hucking it over his head with a tiny grunt. Muscles ached; wounds burned.

He’d known having that one-night stand wasn’t right—he should have just stuck to his perfected solitude of dark rooms and middle-of-the-night workouts. But there was only so much you could do before instinct overcame any sort of common sense; add a few drinks into the mix and the concoction had glazed over his mind like a honey-laced dream.

And then nine months later a single text. A photo attachment.

“She’s yours.” His child. His daughter. Simon had a daughter.

It had taken weeks of self-isolation to figure out what to do. There were moments of very real panic—bone-deep worry and hatred. He couldn’t be a father and still be the Ghost that he was now, but there wasn’t a way to reverse his already damaged psyche. Home in Manchester didn’t feel like a real place anymore; home was a gun in his hands and his mask over his face. Slumping bodies and adrenaline-blown pupils. The high he got out of killing could never be topped by the joys of having a family he didn’t want.

But then he remembered his own father and the guilt that had struck him at that moment left Simon physically sick. Head pounding and bile lacing his tongue as he retched over a toilet. It would have been easier to just promise money, and give over some of what he earned to give you a future. He could distance himself but still be a shadow on the wall if it all went south.

Yes, it could have been easy.

Until your mother up and disappeared; leaving you all alone. There was no way in hell he could leave you in foster care. The stories he’d heard…

Simon’s gloved hands flex, joints cracking, before he checks the watch on his wrist with slow-blinking eyes. He needed to be home in two hours.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” A groan escapes, rolling his shoulders twice before grasping at his thigh holster—slipping out the X12 to place it down with a small thump of black metal.

These movements were entirely routine and soon there was a neat line of multiple knives, the pistol, an automatic rifle, frag grenades, med pack, rope, and anything else that Ghost could have even the slightest possibility of needing in a tight spot. Through it all, the mask stayed; icy eyes behind the spread of black face paint numb.

It’s one hour later that he’s done cleaning and putting everything away with tired fingers. Feet shuffle before he’s exiting the armory all together, snatching the large duffle bag near the double doors; a small grunt plays out of his chest. The strap is dragged over his head when Soap passes him in the base’s hallway.

All Simon could do is hold back a groan as a headache already begins to form.

“Lt.” The Scot calls, smile pulling his lips up, “off to go hide in back-alleys, then?”

“Jesus, Johnny, shut the fuck up already.” Ghost grumbles out, hands slipping into his pockets as he continues off down the hallway. Behind him, the mohawked Sergeant belts out a laugh before disappearing into the armory Simon had just vacated.

“Copy and check, Sir!” Sarcasm bleeds out and makes icy eyes fall half-closed with subdued annoyance.

The large phantom continues on until he exits the base and digs his keys out of his pockets—finding his car in the underground parking garage exactly where he had left it two months prior. As if on autopilot, he shuffles open the door and tosses his bag in the back before sitting in the front seat and twisting the ignition.

Reaching into the glove compartment, Simon pulls out a clean balaclava and holds it loosely—his opposite hand slipping up to the skeletal mask of his head and feeling the fibers on his fingertips. Replacing it swiftly, the clean fabric slips over his face with a stiff movement of his arm. Seconds later, his foot presses into the gas.

There are no words spoken, no comments under breath, just a silence that seems to stem from some underlying anxiety completely foreign to Simon on the field. Going home always made him nervous. A soul-digging kind of hesitation.

It takes him the rest of that last hour to drive home—a tiny little country house far removed from Manchester though still leaving it well guarded by local law-enforcement patrols. A perfect mix of safety and distance that had been the driving force in Simon’s initial purchase of it. But it wasn’t his only properly, not by a long shot.

Like a rat, the holes of his paranoia ran deep into the earth.

He pulls the car into the dirt driveway and kills the vehicle. Outside in the darkening sky, his eyes slide to watch over the top of the garden wall; seeing tree branches sway in a subdued breeze. Sitting there for a few moments, the man just ends up shaking his head and shoving open the door with his shoulder.

Veins tighten under his flesh.

“Kid!” Simon raps on the front door with his knuckles when his boots take him over and up the steps, voice gravelly. A house key slips into the lock, turning over before the barrier opens. Ghost stomps in and immediately knows the entire home is completely empty.

He blinks in confusion, looking over the still air and dull noises. The AC unit whirls; the fridge shakes. No feet on the floor—no groan or sly comment.

You were a teenager now, but the absence of your aura was harsh to him. You were supposed to be here. The Manchester man’s lips thin.

“Christ, don’t go and tell me she’s fuckin’ gone again…” Simon kicks the door shut and lets his bag fall from his fingers, feeling his chest tighten slowly. He beelines to the kitchen where, sure enough, a note from the far-off neighbor who keeps an eye on you when he’s gone was sitting with its delicate font.

Fast fingers snatch it like a snake, jaw clenched and tight grip creasing the paper. He reads with a growing disappointment.

“She got into a fight out of school again—black eye and bruised knuckles. I’m sorry, Mr. Riley, but I couldn’t get a hold of you to tell you about it. I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father. When you read this, I’ll have tried to make her come back inside but I was unsuccessful. I left supper at the base of the hill and a blanket. I’m sorry. I’ll be at my home if you need me.”

Simon places the note down and runs a hand up and down his face, a deep sigh exiting his lips as his fingers cover his jaw and chin. Like the definition of fatigue, his body lightly bows forward. Slouched shoulders.

This would make the fifth fight this year.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

After a minute of mute irritation, the man drops his hands and goes to the freezer, taking out an ice pack with a small glint of further emotion stinted in his gaze. There are so many things that Simon feels for you—some of which he would never be able to properly express.

He’s not a good man. Not someone to look up to or place on a pedestal. He’s in the 141 because he can do a job; a job that not many others can do simply for the fact that something in him was broken. Shattered beyond repair.

Simon was never meant for this.

The blond placed the ice pack into a rag from the drawer and exited through the back door of the house. Grunt stuck in his throat at the thought of the delinquent activities you seemed to always get up to when he was gone which, admittingly, was more often than not.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

But wasn’t he doing a good thing by staying away? He took you in—provided food, water, shelter, and anything else you could need. What was he doing wrong?

Simon’s brows tighten as the chilled air hits him as a winder wind would. By now the sun had fully set and the darkness was becoming more black than blue by the second; dim twinklings from stars dancing in the pupils of his eyes. His feet take him off the back porch and easily finds a small trail that leads through the barren garden all the way to a hill in the distance.

Icy blue easily finds the tiny hunched being at the very top. His hand tightens over the ice pack.

Ghost was unable to understand, of course, he hadn’t had the kind of childhood people would want—was never around kids in general. No friends with little brats running around, obviously. Was this a normal kind of thing kids did? Start fights?

He’d heard some things about teenagers.

Closing his tired eyes for a moment, Simon silently walks past the plate of food at the foot of the hill but snatches the fluffy blanket that had been beside it. If you don’t want to eat he won't force you, but it was getting cold out quickly.

Simon wasn’t letting you catch a bug.

He huffs as he ascends the slope, all the aches and pains finally making themself more known in his thighs and abdomen.

You hear him coming when he’s three-fourths of the way there.

Your red eyes widen in shock, hands that had been trapping your legs to your chest rising to wipe the tears on your cheeks away aggressively; frantic. Three seconds later a heavy fabric hits your head and you tense, widely looking up into the dead eyes of your father.

The blanket thumps to the ground beside you in a heap.

“Put it on,” he grunts from behind his balaclava and your surprised expression slowly sours.

You turn away with a growl. “Don’t want to.”

“Bloody ‘ell, just put it on,” there’s no acidity behind the words, but the annoyance is clear. “Asking to get fuckin’ sick at this rate, are you? I’m not cleanin’ up your vomit from the floor when you're hunched over like a mutt on drugs.”

Not a stranger to his humor, but with a venom-laced look, you grab the blanket as Simon sits next to you and end up throwing it over your shoulders. Your face hurt too much to talk for long periods—right eye swollen and radiating heat; hands weren't that much better, the knuckles puffy and blood-flooded under the skin. It made you flinch when you had to clench your fingers.

You’re acutely aware of your father’s presence. How he sits with his spine bent with one hand behind him; legs laying out flat. You should be happy he’s back safe in one piece, but in reality, there would be little change if he never showed back up at all.

The house was always silent anyways. Dead. Simon was as much a stranger to you as he was to everyone else.

“What did I tell you when I went away, eh?” The man asks you lowly when you’ve settled, and you grit your teeth and look out over the landscape, long grass swaying in the wind. “Kid.”

“Don’t get into any more fights.” Words are stiff, reflective of both of your muscles and hearts.

“Affirmative. You want to explain to me what you did?”

“Got into another fight.” An icepack is tossed near you, bouncing in the grass. You scoff but take it, softly applying it to your face with a concealed flinch. Shame permeates in your ribs, a desperate need to prove yourself. “I didn’t mean to—”

“That’s not an excuse.” Simon glares at you from the side of his eye, utterly serious. “When I tell you something, you listen, yeah?”

“...Yeah,” you grit your teeth and clench your hands, a bitter huff leaving your lips. “Sure.”

A tense silence keeps you in its clutches, the kind of silence that stems from two people who really have no idea how to speak or understand one another.

“No more fighting,” Simon grits out, “now show me.”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Show me it.” Your face burns as you slip the ice pack away and turn your face his way, meeting your father’s gaze head-on and seeing his lids slightly pull back. You spy his hand clenching in the grass, ripping strands out like hair from a head.

“Happy?” You sarcastically ask, turning back forward and putting the ice pack back into your socket.

It’s a long while before he speaks to you again, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face when he does. Your heart rampages at the deathly slow and tiny voice.

“Why?” The question makes your body flair with anger and you grip the pack tighter, feeling the ice shift in your grip as you clench it violently. You feel your fingers twitch when you answer, unconsciously closing into fists.

“Why?” You glare at him, “Why the hell do you care?”

Simon’s eyes go blank, brows going up his head. Gazes lock and you’re suddenly standing to your feet, chucking the ice pack right into his chest. It only makes you madder when he catches it easily, glancing down at the object before slowly shifting his numb eyes back to you.

“You’re never fucking here, what’s the point in telling you anything about me?” Your father’s face is covered, but the mask is more than just physical—it’s a part of him in every sense. You don’t know what he is, but you see his lungs going still in his ribs. You splay your hands around you as the blanket hits the ground at your feet. “It wouldn’t even make a difference if you never came back! Even when you’re here it barely even matters beyond who’s dishes are in the sink.”

Bitter tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, a tight itch in your skin. Slight guilt hits you when you shove out such harsh words, but you don’t care enough right now to think about what you’re saying. Everything just hits a breaking point. Shaking your head you scoff again, weaker this time. “You don’t even know the first things about me and you want me to try and explain why I do the things I do?”

Simon watches and listens, stone still. It’s as if he doesn’t even breathe; his pulse doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. If you would have been able to see it, you’d have noticed the way the large man’s lips were slightly parted.

He wasn’t averse to arguments, he yelled on Ops and cursed aggressively on duty, but he had made a stark promise to himself to never yell at you. If there was one thing that reminded him of his father—it was that. Explosive fights that only ended one way.

What you were saying was everything he knew to be true. This came to him in a slow and silent realization of growing pain. Simon didn’t know your favorite color or what food you loved. Your interests or your goals.

He knew how much you spent on snacks at the store, but didn’t know what you bought.

Ghost clenches his jaw and watches your resolve deteriorate with a heavy heart. What was he supposed to do? He was your father, sure, but…he didn’t know the first things that went with anything beyond giving you items and objects.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

How could he be a father to you?

Simon clears his throat, for once in his life completely unable to pull on any sort of skill to rectify this situation. You take his silence as blatant disregard.

With a burning face, you sniffle and twist on your heel, speed-walking down the hill back into the house. Your brain is pounding in your head, just as fast as your heart when you finally stomp through the garden and shove open the back door.

Simon doesn’t tell you to stop.

Left on that hill, he watches your back disappear into the house and gets a rabid pain in his stone heart. You were his daughter. You were hurt; neglected. He’d never felt like this before.

Simon had failed the only job that he knew was far more important than any other. Blue darkens into a color reminiscent of storm clouds.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Standing, he snatches at the ice pack and the blanket, lightly jogging down the mound of earth. In no time he’s standing in the house again, having completely forgotten about the plate of food outside. It’s the tense set of his shoulders that really give away how unprepared he feels. How out of his expertise.

Give Simon a gun and he’d be able to take it apart and reassemble it in one minute; a knife and he’d have it sharp in seconds.

Simon Riley has no idea how to be a good father and he’s suddenly very aware of how fast the window is closing to try. You were his blood and his responsibility. He can’t end up like his own father.

The thought almost makes him sick again, stomach rolling with anxiety.

Inside the house, he tosses the items in his grip onto the couch and whispers past into the hallway to your room. Fingers twitching, he grabs at his balaclava before ripping it from his head; stuffing it into his pants pocket. Stopping in front of your room, Simon raises a hand.

Just as he’s about to shove open the door, he instantaneously stops himself with a sharp thought.

Daughter, not soldier. Home, not barracks.

Hand lowering, he takes a long and deep breath and waits a moment; gathering himself. He still didn’t know what to say…but…

God, your words hurt, but he needed to hear them because they were true.

Simon’s knuckles rasp on the wood, a series of three dull thumps that echo over the stale air. There’s a shuffling of sheets and a dull, “God, just go away!”

Cursing quietly under his breath, Simon runs his fingers through his hair tense-like; pushing back blond strands.

“Open up for me, yeah?” He tries, awkward as his hips shift weight. “Need ‘ta talk to you.”

A cruel laugh exits from under the bottom of the door. “You? Talk?”

Simon keeps his mouth shut and closes his eyes, pulling from the deep pit of patience he holds for on-duty missions and not mastered yet for disagreements and verbal talks. He calms down and rolls his shoulders slightly.

“Please.” A pin could drop.

It’s a long, hot-air moment before there's the padding of feet over the floor and the slight shift of the door handle. The metal jiggles before it’s twisted back with a firm hand.

Your face comes into view through the tiny crack of the door, injured eye on full display in all its swollen glory. A young face is laced with surprise at seeing your father’s bare visage—only the black face paint stuck to his skin—but even more so at his plea. There were only a few times you’d actually seen him and even fewer when you’d hear something like that. Simon stops himself from getting angry at the sight of your wound, staring down at you as his gaze softens just a fraction of a sliver.

He recalls the moment he had first held your form when he had picked you up at hospital years ago. You were so small, squirming in his foreign grip. The nurse had to tell him how to hold you properly—what to do and what not to do.

It had been the first time that Simon could really say he’d been terrified down to his marrow; sweating and lips pulled tight. This being so small it couldn’t do anything by itself had rendered him frozen with unease like he had been stabbed in the heart. Your eyes had looked up at him with trust and love. You hadn’t cried or screamed at his hidden face, even if he thought you should have…you’d done something worse.

You had reached up to his face and placed your little fingers on his brow, slapping his flesh with no strength or hatred. Simon’s gaze never left you for hours after you’d done that, uncharacteristically warm and rendered mute to all else.

Tiny. Weak. Innocent.

How could anybody ever leave you? Hurt you? But the man had been petrified; utterly fearful to the point he would begin shaking when you’d begin crying for a bottle.

In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

“What?” Your crestfallen voice brings him back and he blinks, expression going blank once more. But he tries.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t know—are you going to give a lecture?” You ask, eyes red and other hand still holding the door handle. Simon breathes out a grunted sigh.

“Negative, Moppet, no lecture.” He relaxes his posture, eye bags plainly visible. He was so tired his fingers had gone numb. “Jus’ need ‘ta…” Words fail him. What did he need to do?

Simon clears his throat, looking off down the hallway before his eyes drift back to you.

“You land a hit, then?” You blink in silent shock at the graveled question, a hitch in your lungs giving way to confusion.

“I…” your feet shuffle, face burning, “what?”

One of your father’s large hands goes up to rub the back of his neck, fingers creating red lines across his flesh as his chest rises and falls. You could immediately tell he had no idea what he was doing.

But…he was trying.

“A hit,” he vaguely gestures to your eye, staring intensely. “Did you get ‘em back?”

It’s a vague few moments before you respond, oddly touched by the question. Your door opens the slightest bit wider.

“More than one person,” you admit hesitantly. Your father’s gaze darkens but you quickly continue. “T-they look worse than me right now.”

Simon nods stiffly, hands going to slide into his pockets. “That’ll do,” a pause, “...‘cause I can’t beat up teenagers without getting into a fuckin’ heap ‘o shit.”

Your heart lurches with amusement and a small smile grows on your face. You stare, still just a tiny bit confused at the sudden shift, but unable to stop the chuckle you let out. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling in his chest when his ears twitch at the sound of your humor, yet Simon pulls a smirk to his lips. It made him…content, you could say.

“Who said they were teenagers?” you smirk, tinting your head, and your father immediately frowns, unamused. Brows pull in.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“No, it isn’t. Shut your bloody trap.” The air lightens to a degree you hadn’t experienced before. A silence settles before you break it, vision darting down to spy on the dog tags Simon wears.

“...How long are you staying?” The man hums, licking his lips.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

“I’m off as long as it takes to get you to stop picking fights, yeah?” Your fingers flinch and you stare into eyes that are always like ice, except now try to melt themselves into a chilled puddle.

“Change of heart?” You ask, voice subdued. A bitter hope builds in your veins.

Simon motions with his chin for you to open the door to your room and you do, elbowing it to the side before backing up—letting your father’s large frame enter.

He looks around for a moment at the posters and the bits of personality, glaring internally at himself because he didn’t know what you liked at all. He seems disappointed with his own negligence.

He’d really fucked up.

“C’mere,” Simon goes and snatches your desk chair before he whirls it around, “lemme take a proper look at it.” His hand pats the top of the wood and you listen, going to it and sitting down softly.

Your father kneels in front of you, bones cracking, and he delicately grabs hold of your chin to tilt your head to the side with practiced ease. You avoid his eyes, hands in your lap held tight together in this silence that brews from shared thorns.

Simon has to take a deep breath to get his head out of his rage at the sight of your damaged skin; instinctual reaction to guard you rearing its head even more so now that he can see the injury in the dim light of your desk lamp. His thumb caresses the side of the swelling with intense care.

“Won’t die,” is all he can say, voice hard and strained. “Lucky you, eh?” You scoff and his hands leave—there wasn’t much he could do. “Moppet.”

Eyes slide up to his and his grip finds your bicep, squeezing once. You’re momentarily locked at the sight of real concern in his glinting orbs; a once in a blue moon occurrence.

“Give me your word.” Simon levels firmly, feet shifting. “No more of this. You’re gonna end up gettin’ hurt—badly—you got that?”

“They were calling soldiers cannon fodder.” You glare at your hands in your lap, mumbling out the truth with a burning face mixed with shame and honesty. Your father goes silent. “That they weren’t even good enough for bullets.”

Jaw clenching, you rotate your wrist and feel the flare of pain from the joints. A deep sigh exits from Simon and with a hesitant clench of his jaw, his hand travels to the back of your head. He presses firmly, and your face finds the junction of his neck and shoulder with little fight. Tense in the beginning, you slowly breathe in sweat and tarmac with a gradual loosening feeling in your muscles.

Eyes wide, you slowly begin to return the strange embrace. Your father flinches lightly when your fingers slip along his waist, hands grabbing into his shirt. But like you, time makes him calm—the side of his face connects with the side of your scalp, lashes fluttering closed tightly.

It was you. His daughter. Innocent.

The emotions are so foreign to you that it brings a burning behind your eyes as the minutes lengthen.

Simon can’t even begin to process it, it just felt natural to do such things for you. If there was one thing he did know—it was that he didn’t want to see you in pain or suffering; hurt or eyes filled with pain. His hands slip to bring you up into his arms like you were a baby again, carrying you easily as your nose sniffles with restrained tears. You’re placed in your bed with a delicate plop, icy eyes darting over you until it seems a decision is made with a quick nod.

You watch him leave and return seconds later with a pile of manilla folders in his hands. Your father grunts softly, “Go to sleep. It’s late out,” and drops the items to your desk, sitting down with a huff and a squeal from your chair. The air is warm and you sit in it a moment longer.

Eyes blink at the silhouette before a small smile builds on your lips—genuine and warm like a weighted blanket.

“How long are you gonna be there?” You ask your father, grasping the covers and slipping under as your head hits the pillow; making sure to stay on the uninjured side.

He doesn’t turn around.

“All night. Need ‘ta get this shite done for my boss.” You don’t know why, but you feel like he’s lying. Simon looks over his shoulder with a tone dipping to a whisper. “Sleep, Kid. We’ll get those knuckles sorted in the morning.”

Of course, he’d noticed that, too.

“Dad?” You ask and his spine straightens instantly at the title. It’s a long time before he answers and when he does his emotion is the softest you’ve ever heard him; gravel so deep you almost miss the words entirely.

“What is it?”

“Goodnight.” Simon’s hands shake as they open the first folder in the small stack, small tremors that are both horrible and endearing. He doesn’t say anything until you’re fast asleep behind him—when he stands up and walks over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the covers farther up to your chin.

Into your skin, he whispers, “...Goodnight, my little Moppet.”

Simon wonders if his daughter likes eggs for breakfast as his pen slides over the first report, one eye forever staying on your slumbering body to watch the rise and fall of your lungs.

TAGS:

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cursingtoji · 1 year

Text

Big Boy Toji, dad!toji, non-muscular body appreciation, toji calls reader mama

40 something year old Toji who doesn’t have the carved abs he used to have in his twenties

now he has a belly, soft and huggable

his kids favourite thing is sleeping on top of him, he’s warm and comfortable

he doesn’t care about shaving every other day anymore

going a few days and maybe a week with a stubble

he will definitely shave if you ask tho

but it’s just very fun to watch you squirm when his thick facial hair tickles your skin as he kisses your neck

in his younger year he used to shave his chest and abdomen too cause he thought women liked it better that way

he doesn’t care about it anymore either, you like his chest hair and he’s quite aware about how your eyes drift down his happy trail when he’s shirtless he lives for it

his chest is hard when he flex but still soft enough to be your favourite pillow during the night

he’s not any less hot either

his arms are still muscular, maybe even bigger than before due to the long hours he spends on your house remodelling lifting all sorts of heavy material for you to have your dream home (and him saving as much money as possible)

sometimes you catch him looking at himself for a bit too long in the mirror after shower, he rubs his soft belly and grabs his sides

you don’t want to make him self aware so you carefully snicker behind him, wrapping your arms around his soft torso and kissing his shoulder blades

“come on daddy, why don’t you put those guns to a good use” you whisper on your tiptoes running a hand on his arm

“sure thing, mama” he picks you up so easily it never fails to amaze you how strong he is after all those years

sometimes he’ll carry a seven year old megumi (which’s already too heavy for you) in his bicep while doing other things around the house like he’s nothing

the extra weight he gained over the years shows up especially when he uses his old sweat pants, he doesn’t seem to realize how it hugs his ass so perfectly

he also doesn’t understand why his crotch feels so tight so he keeps pulling the material of his pants

“doll did you put those in the dryer? i think it has shrunken” he says looking down while you sip your coffee paying good attention to his perfect butt

his thighs are not immune to his growth either, they are not as muscular as they were when he used to workout but oh boy you can spend a ridiculous amount of time starting at them when he sits down, legs spread in his old basketball shorts

when he brings his friends over for a barbecue in his yard you bet he’s gonna pull you to sit on his lap at some point (or several) during the day

there’s no better feeling for him then sipping his cold beer while rubbing his loved one legs and watching his kids playing at the playground he build himself

#when i’m bored i think about the life i wanted toji to have #this is not a toji smut #this is a toji dad bod appreciation post #toji x reader #toji x y/n #jjk toji #jjk x reader #toji headcanons #jjk headcanons

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blazingstar29 · 7 months

Text

Top Gun Workouts - Maverick

(because two people encouraged me)

disclaimer: i’m not qualified in any sport or exercise science so please don’t take this for gospel. consult with a professional etc etc.

In this series I’ll be breaking down the muscular make up of characters and what exercises i think they’d do, if that’s something that may trigger you please give this a miss and enjoy my other general shitposting!

Okay let’s look at 1986 Maverick, keeping in mind him/tom cruise is about 23/24

These are some of the best side profile shots in the movie. In the second one he’s flexing (accidentally or on purpose) which really shows of the tricep definition. Maverick’s actually really interesting in his composition because he has really lean and defined abs but isn’t as lean as Ice or Slider. He has a slightly stockier appearance and perhaps trains for strength rather than hypertrophy. Anyway; There’s definitely a focus on arms here, although in TGM Tom’s arms are even bigger.

He’s a bit hunched over here but there is back definition too and again, tricep and delt’s are pretty well defined.

The beach scene shows off a lot of Mav’s torso and you see from many angles how strong his obliques are. Strong obliques can given the illusion of a wider rib cage and make your hips appear narrower. He hasn’t got the abs of Slider but he’s got a core of steel. You can see under his left arm in both photos there is some lateral definition. He doesn’t have a huge chest but his traps make up for it.

Overall it’s hard to tell with his legs, there’s not a lot to go off.

Exercises

Upper body focus. Tricep focused exercises such as dips and skull crushers.

Biceps are a little bit lacking so probably not a huge focus there but defiently bicep curls. He’s got a “curls get girls” mentality

Seated rows, lateral pull downs and chin ups to target the back

Probably dead lifts and/or squats but not a super heavy amount. Despite not having a lot of muscle mass on his legs, Mav isn’t disproportionate. I think his cardio comes from running and that’s where he gets the toned legs from.

Ultimately I think Mav has a bit of a sleeper build. If he has a ‘pump’ or flexes you see his muscles really easily but in his day to day life he looks toned but nothing crazy. Classic sleeper build. I think he likes to work out for aesthetics but flying is his everything, so functional fitness to be in peak position. Explosive movements, core strengthening and lots of cardiovascular exercises to help against g-forces

#top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #top gun workouts #top gun maverick #tom cruise

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 1 month

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Hot Summer Dayz: Jammin n’ Jamica!! ☀️🛍️

Dolly is typing…..💬🎀….(1) NEW FROM; Dolly!🛍️

HI DOLLIES!! Welcome 2 My Next Summer Post where i cover how to not only have the best summer vacay/staycation but also give some useful tips on beating the summer heat!!

> Planning + Shopping !! 🛍️

> Knowing ur Location !! 🏝️

> Fun Summer activities to maximize ur Staycation !! ⭐️

> How 2 Beat the Summer Heat!! 👙

Planning + Shopping! *࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🛍️

When shopping 4 outfits 4 vacay/spring/sumemr we wanna make sure we not only make sure we’re comfortable in out clothes but also make sure they’re breathable and not too heavy or baggy!! bc obvis were gonna be in harsh sunny weather!! you pick up pieces that wre stylish nd serene!! here are some pieces i definitely recommend!!👙

Halter Tops

Cami Tops

Daisy Dukes

Flowy midi skirts

colorful platform shoes

strapless mini dress

miniskirts!!

jellyfish dresses

croptops

cute open toe shoes!!

stylish sunglasses!!

swimsuit tops

if its a stay in day or you don’t feel like dressing up an oversized white t-shirt but dress it up more!!

if you want to try to stray away from wearing darker/black color palettes bc they can absorb more heat

Knowing ur Location! *࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🏝️

When Traveling 2 a New city,state,country you always want to be mindful of where you are,how this place operates and how to be like the locals!! + also knowing about weather!! my tips….

If ur traveling to a new country learn some of the basics of the language to communicate properly!!

Learn how they drive,speak,how they pay etc.

always keep money on you obvii!!

SUNSCREEN.SUNSCREEN.SUNSCREEN. ik this is already bible for some people but im gonna keep saying bc its soo important when traveling to places that are closer the equator & countries that are known to be hotter ALWAYS HAVE SUNSCREEN. and not just ur regular SPF 30 try using spf 50! like for me this summer i’ll be in place like san diego,florida & saint thomas and they have really harsh suns especially in summer im gonna need a way stronger SPF than my regular 30 to always be sure to have a stronger SPF everywhere!!

always be friendly with the locals its nice to always be friendly no matter what

educate urself on the country!!

while ur there try learning some new skills

Fun Summer Activities 2 Maximize ur Staycation! ☀️👙

For my Girls that are staying in their home state,country here are some super fun activities for you to try so you can also join in on the summer fun!!

Make a Bucketlist

Make cute Crafts

Go to the pool or beach with ur friends!!

cut up summer fruit and make a fruit salad

take up a new hobby!!

have a movie night + sleepover

go shopping

try a fun new workout

if u have a younger sibling play outside with them!

Watch ur favorite movies

water ballon fights!

CARNIVALS!!

painting at the beach

aquariums or planetarium

karaoke!

play a new video game!

Beating the Summer Heat !! 🎀☀️

Obvi its gonna b super hot during summer and sometimes unbearably hot out but its okay bc i have some super fun way 2 beat the heat!! 👙

Go 2 The Pool!

Cold Treats ie: ice scream,icee,slushies

drink ice cold water

eat some cold fruit watermelon,grapes,pineapple,honeydew

Stay hydrated!!

eat some cold meals!!

have a water gun fight!

Itz been fun!! Dolly Signing off….💗

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 month

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Dad's Best Friend - Jake Seresin Masterlist

this is a masterlist with all my dbf!jake x reader works. yes, this was necessary lmao. they piled up and because they kind of all play in the same universe, i wanted them on a seperate list

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

⭑ is for allusions to smut † is for actual smut ▸ is for a little bit of angst the rest is just pure fluff!!

Oneshots

† Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven - Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

† What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars - After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?

Blurbs

Grey Streak - You spot the first grey streak in Jake's hair and somehow, that gets you going.

Let Me Give You a Facial - Turns out, Jake likes being pampered just as much as you like pampering him.

⭑ Jealous - When a young petty officer hits on you at the bar, Jake gets a bit jealous.

† Caught (Almost) - It's really bad timing when your father walks through the back door while Jake is on his knees for you.

⭑ Innocent - You're very much ready to finally let Jake fuck you. Jake finds out he very much likes to teach you how.

⭑ Workout - Jake works out in the garage, and that's really just eye candy on a silver plate.

Aftercare - It shouldn't surprise anyone that Jake is the king of aftercare.

† Safeword - The first time you ask Jake to go harder, he proves once more that you can trust him with everything.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #dbf!jake seresin #dbf!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #nav #masterlist #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman x reader #dbf!jake seresin smut

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callofdudes · 1 year

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Slapping their ass-

(Because why not right?)

Ghost

You and Simon had only been dating for six months. While those six months had been rough, you found it rewarding that Simon had come to trust you a little more than before. He allowed you to touch him in private much more than he typically would. He no longer reprimanded you for pulling his mask up enough for a quick kiss. The two of you were sparring when it happened. Ghost threw a right hook which you managed to dodge. You slipped in behind him and as a last minute thought you reached out your hand and slapped him right across the ass. It happened before you knew it happened and both of you froze. He turned to look back at you, eye twitching. There was an uncomfortably long silence where you both just kind of took in the moment. One about to kill and one about to be killed. "Simon... I-"

"Run."

You're not in too much trouble, don't be scared of him ;)

Soap

It was a dare because of course it was. You were sitting on a training mat with Gaz who held your feet as you finished your situps. You were going back over sml banter when you might have let it slip that you thought how cute Soap's ass looked in those stupidly tight workout shorts he sometimes wore on hot days. It was ridiculous not to look at him. Next thing you knew you were locked into the typical peer pressure of a dare. Soap was talking with Price when you walked up super casual. He nodded to your captain and politely smiled at Soap. "Mornin' Soap." He was about to reply when your hand came up behind him and smacked him right on those stupid shorts. You tried not to laugh at the look of shock and walked away. Once he recovered he smirked and ran after you, fully intending to slap you back. When he did, both of you laughed it off. This was a one time thing and totallynotthenewwayyougreeteachotherinthemorning-

Gaz

A mission. Both of you were camped out on a roof top. While you had taken position with your sniper Gaz held his eyes on the three entrances from the building and up to the roof you were both on. You had been sitting there for a grueling fifty minutes, making sure no one was left when you heard the call from Price that you were safe. Almost immediately you both sighed. You dropped the gun and covered your face, feeling about ready to cry you were so relieved. Gaz came over and sat down, smiling at you. "We're all good Y/n." He placed his hand hesitantly on the small of your back. "I think I need a minute." He nodded and patted your back and got up. When you were ready you got up and met him by the ladder with your stuff. He started going to the ladder last and on the way you reached your hand up and slapped him as hard as you could. "That's for scaring me back there." He froze for a second before nodding. "Can we continue this at home??" He's asking for a friend.

Price

Price was not having a fun day. In fact, he was having a, for lack of a better word, a shit day. He has been sitting there doing paperwork for what felt like hours. He admitted that his body relaxed when you walked in. You carried a warm cup of coffee in one hand and some food from the mess hall in the other. "Figured you'd be in here. Doing ok?" He nodded and stood, kissing you when you reached his desk. You placed down the items in your hands and rubbed his cheek. "Don't be too hard on yourself. I still need you in working order y'know." He scoffed. "And for what necessity would I need to be working, love?" You kissed his cheek again. "Don't get cocky now." His hands moved down to your spine to caress your hips. "Never." You both chuckled softly. You pulled away to let him sit, but as he was turning around he felt your hand slap him hard across the ass. He whipped around and you knew to run. You made it almost to the door before his body slammed into you. He pressed you against the wall and raised your arms above your head. "Whatever will I do with you." He chuckled. You didn't leave that office for a good bit. :)

König

You were late to the mess hall. You had guests over so the night before had been a hectic mix of parting and games. Probably wasn't the best thing in the world, but your hangover was only mild at most.

When you walked in everyone was at their tables talking to each other. You almost didn't notice that mountain of a man by the mess hall table of food until you got there. König was flipping through what looked to be a news paper absent mindedly, with no care for your existence. Poor thing was probably feeling to shy to sit down.

You grabbed your food but before going to your table you reached your hand down and slapped his ass, accompanied by your firm grip to get his attention. He whipped around, shaking and spluttering surprised. Everyone looked at the two of you, causing him to panic and attempt to hide himself again. "Come sit with me." You urged in a not so friendly tone. You could see him shaking in either fear or embarrassment. He grabbed his food, muttering as he followed you to a table.

Alejandro

He did it to you first. And after he did, the little shit took every precaution to make sure you couldn't physically do it back. He had cornered you by the wash hall and slapped you hard enough to mark with a comment about your previous nights escepades. You had been embarrassed, but Rodolfo was regularly exposed to your interesting relationship to care much. He just continued on and started to shower like nothing had happened. You forgot about the Cartel and every heist, scheme, robbery. Your new mission was to get him back. And you did. The poor boys when they first met you they knew they were in for it. Alejandro had gotten out to greet the guests, and you felt inclined to as well. That and the seating arrangement needed to change. So when he opened the door for Ghost you saw your opportunity. Before he could get another word out you slapped him so hard across that stupid little ass of his he just went wide eyes. Jaw open. You smirked and loudly proclaimed, "Finally! Dumb Vaquero!" He turned back to you and smirked. "Mi vida, guests." You stuck out your tongue. "Which means you can't do nothing about it." You were wrong. He did do something about it. He was still very proud you managed to one-up him.

Rodolfo

You were making breakfast and casually talking. The others weren't quite up yet, so you two had made a point to be quite. Rodolfo had an apron to keep his uniform clean, which to yours and everyone else's realization made his hips just that more prominent. He was casually flipping an egg when you walked by to grab the flower. Your hand slipped from your pocket and full on grabbed this man's ass. He gasped when you let go and turned to berate you. He scolded you as blush saturated his cheeks. His pink nose reminding you of a certain reindeer. You smiled. "What will you do about it?" Your smile didn't last long. He pulled you by the strap of your sweater, slammed you into the sink bent over and smacked you as hard as he could with the spatula in his hand. Rodolfo leaned into your ear and huffed. "Don't do that again, or next time I might not be so nice." Needless to say you did it again.

First time doing this, hope it was ok ✌️😅

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mellowsaturns · 2 years

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just the way you are

BUCKY BARNES X READER

summary: bucky’s acting strange lately, and you find out why

warnings: fluff, jealous!bucky, bucky being a show off

wc: 914

masterlist

a/n: inspired by those tiktoks of people taking their partners to watch top gun maverick and regretting it after lol

———

Bucky was acting weird lately.

Not in a closed off, reclusive sort of way, but like a sudden boost of confidence, never ending energy type of way.

“—hundred ninety-nine, two hundred, two hundred and one, two hundred and two…”

He was doing push-ups in the middle of your room at two in the morning.

You watched him as he went at it, arm propping your head as you laid in bed.

“Bucky. I get it, you can do lots of push-ups,” you said as a yawn escaped your lips. “It’s time to go to bed.”

“Two hundred-ten, two hundred-eleven,” he continued.

“Buck. I’m serious,” you said sternly. “Come to bed before you start to stink of sweat.”

He stopped at your command, grunting before pulling himself back up. He was flushed from the workout. “Could’ve done three-hundred.”

You laughed. “I know. But now isn’t exactly the best time to show off.”

He walked around to his side of the bed, steadying his breath as he sat down.

You pivoted over, lazily wrapping your arms around his waist as you rested your head on his back. “I don’t know why you suddenly got down and started doing push-ups,” you stated, because that was exactly what he did, “but there were other things you—we could have done if you wanted to get rid of all that energy.”

Bucky stiffened at your comment. He turned around, eyes meeting yours from above, a sly smile appearing. “I guess we can make up for the remaining ones I didn’t do,” he said before kissing you, pushing you back down onto the mattress and pulling the covers over.

It had been a normal day. You left the front doors of your workplace, ready to head to the subway to go home like always before a loud honk scared the living daylights out of you.

“Hey, doll.”

You snapped your head to the voice and behold, Bucky Barnes was here with a motorcycle.

You walked towards him, mouth agape. “Bucky… What are you doing here? With that?”

He shrugged. “Here to pick you up,” he said, before handing you a helmet.

You furrowed your brows. You had so many questions.

He grinned. “Hop on.”

The two of you were currently in Louisiana visiting Sam and after helping him with his boat that always seemed to have some kind of mechanical issue, he suggested a trip to the beach.

You were just about to decline his offer as you knew Bucky didn’t particularly enjoy the blazing hot sun and watchful eyes but your boyfriend’s sudden urge and agreement left you speechless.

So here you were, relaxing on the beach chair with Sarah as Bucky played football with Sam and his relatives.

Oh, and Bucky was shirtless.

You were trying really hard not to stare at him and his chest and his abs and the way his muscles moved when he ran and threw the ball.

Did he just… wink at you? God—this Louisiana heat was making you lightheaded.

Sarah smirked, “Are you sure it’s not your hunk of a boyfriend?”

“Here we were, sweating and panting from runnin’ miles to the hideout. When we got there, I kicked em’ steel door down and marched in,” he boasted. “Should’ve seen their faces. They were terrified. No match for us as we took down every single enemy.”

A beaming smile adorned your face as he told his stories. It wasn't often he shared about his days back in the army as there were certain memories he didn’t want to relive, but when he does, it wasn’t usually with this much excitement.

Bucky has been acting strange and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Mmm?”

“Is there a reason you’re acting strange lately?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” you paused. “You were randomly doing push-ups the other day and you picked me up on a motorcycle that one time. And you have been talking about your days in the army for the past two hours. And um, you played football at the beach without…” you gulped, “a shirt on.”

The push-ups, the motorcycle, the beach. You couldn’t find a connection between—oh.

“Wait,” you said, finally connecting the dots. He was doing everything that happened in that one movie the two of you watched weeks ago. “Were you recreating everything from Top Gun?”

There was a hint of embarrassment in his eyes.

“Oh my god! You were!” you exclaimed.

“No, I was not,” he scoffed.

You studied him. “Bucky.”

He sighed, “Fine. I was just tryna impress you.”

“Impress me? Why would you want to impress me?”

“Well, you were certainly impressed when you were watching on the big screen,” he grumbled.

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You were staring,” he stated, looking down at his lap, “at those actors. With that look.”

The realization washed over you—Bucky Barnes was jealous. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?”

“Bucky, it was just a movie,” you stated. Sighing, you grabbed his hand and held it tight. “You don’t need to do all that to impress me. I’m impressed by you every single day.”

He gave you that shy smile that always gives you butterflies.

“I love you just the way you are. In my eyes, you’re the bravest, handsomest and coolest person I know. No one compares to you, I promise.”

“Yeah?” he asked bashfully

You returned a loving smile, “I would choose you over anyone in a heartbeat.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #drabble

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stormdragon23 · 8 months

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ARISE ChoiBaek Brainrot Headcanons

Don't mind me. Just organizing my scattered ChoiBaek thoughts in this AU. Will probably change/add more later. Inspired by conversations with @manawari (Tried to make it in chronological order) When Jongin started falling for Yoonho: - Seeing him perform on stage for the first time - Seeing him be soft with the other members - When Yoonho helped him with a workout routine without mocking him despite Jongin being the weakest member in the group - Eating the food Yoonho made for him for the first time (Fell for Yoonho after about 2 months) - (Asked Byung-gyu and Gun-Hee for advice)

When Yoonho started falling for Jongin: - Seeing Jongin enjoy eating the food Yoonho made for him for the first time - When Yoonho saw Jongin wearing fox ears that someone gave him during a fan meet - When he asked Jongin for help with his makeup - When Jongin accidentally fell asleep against him in the car on their way back from a performance - Seeing Jongin do a demo for one of his emotional songs when Jongin thought no one was around (when Yoonho fell really hard; I could write a fanfic on this scene alone-) (Fell for Jongin after about 6 months (Jongin was not having a good time)) - (Asked Jinchul for advice) How they got together: - Got together about 2 months after Yoonho fell for Jongin - Happened during the holidays when the others went home to their families, so Choibaek was alone with each other - Accidental confession from Jongin? - Yoonho finally notices and asks Jongin how he really feels about him? - A heated argument where one of them accidentally hits a nerve, resulting in them apologizing and a confession? - I don't really know how but it was a huge mess When the others found out they started dating: Jinchul and Gun-Hee: The day they started Byung-gyu: The week they started Jinwoo and Taegyu: A few months after they started (they found Choibaek asleep on the couch together after a long performance; they were either dense or Choibaek was really good at hiding it from them, you can decide) Gay panic moments between them (it's mostly just Yoonho panicking though-) - Jongin trips, and Yoonho catches him by the waist - Jongin and Yoonho practice a duet together that forces them to be close (after Jongin fell for Yoonho, but before Yoonho fell for Jongin), and Jongin's panicking - Yoonho sees Jongin wear contacts for the first time - Yoonho sees Jongin in a crop top for one of their performances - Yoonho accidentally got Jongin's hair wet from opening a water bottle, and Jongin had to brush his bangs back to see clearly - Yoonho starts a habit of fixing Jongin's hair not only before performances but also at random times, catching Jongin off guard - Yoonho hears Jongin laugh around Byung-gyu's dog, Coco (headcanon that Jongin doesn't laugh a lot, let alone in a positive way) This is very much a case of "if I can't find content, I'll make it myself- These could be applied to some other AUs too actually- I should really do something about my ChoiBaek obsession though-

#solo leveling #solo leveling boyband au: arise #baek yoon ho #choi jongin #choibaek #firetiger

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 5 months

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My mom sees an ad for Anyone But You on the tv: "Who is that guy? He looks familiar." My brain: That's Glen Powell, the man I have been drooling over for the past two years and have over a hundred pictures of saved on my phone. He has a dog named Brisket, is a massive Longhorns fan, has an INSANE workout routine, has a great ass--- Me: "He was in the new Top Gun." My mom: "Oh, yeah. The one with the toothpick."

#😂#this is vee #glen “the one with the toothpick” powell #glen powell #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #tgm

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vintagemulti · 2 years

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rainfall

pairings: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x pilot!reader

desc: you’ve always had a thing for your best friend. this mission didn’t help.

warnings: this is quite long😵‍💫, swearing, sex references and innuendos, alcohol and drunkness, death and family member loss, dissociation mentions, i know NOTHING about pilots/flying sorry, this WILL be a series !!!

a/n: someone tell me to stop making series. i beg. this is my little writer brain not being able to watch anything without making a character WHOOPS. anyways, i’ve not seen the first top gun. so. cannon? who? we don’t know her. also i hate called bradley rooster i can’t work out why but i’ll only refer to him as it when flying. soz.

series masterlist

masterlist

you had been in bali when you got the call. you and bradley, in bali, relaxing. but who ever said naval pilots get to relax?

it was something you had gotten far too used to, having to pack up your things and get the first flight back to the states. sure, you had been the one to chose this career and the disruptions you faced were consequences of your own actions, but you had really - really, really - hoped that you didn’t get called up when you did.

two weeks in bali with bradley bradshaw, the highlight of your year. it had been planned for almost a year, which was saying something. normally you and bradley would say you’d do something, and it would never actually end up happening. but no - this vacation had went ahead, and you’d had six days of utter bliss before the dreaded number showed up on your phone.

bradley had been phoned right after you, his reaction being about the same. annoyed, upset but somewhat excited. what the fuck was all this about? both you and him being on the same mission?

and so you had packed all your stuff and made your way back to california, dropped your bags off at your separate apartments and rushed to put together an emergency bag, with your uniforms and workout clothes inside.

that took you up to now, sat in the passenger side of bradley’s new range rover, forty minutes into the drive back to the naval base on lake tahoe. it wasn’t far away now - only ten or so minutes, but the sun was beginning to slowly dip it’s head, ever so slightly.

you were still dressed in your summer clothes, a tight, black dress with white lining and held up by a strap around your neck. it was low cut, a little lower than you’d like for the first time meeting your other teammates, but there wasn’t any time to get changed.

bradley was dressed in the same way, tight white tank top covered in a hawaiian shirt, nude-coloured cargos covering his thighs. and, of course, his aviator glasses. was it really bradley without them?

he turned into one of the roads leading to the hard deck - a bar frequented by everyone within a mile vicinity - and you turned to look at him, right as the sunlight hit him. golden rays washed over his skin, his collarbones shining and under his sunglasses you could see his brown eyes - turned like honey in the light.

you thought he looked beautiful, but you’d never tell him.

“this better be good,” he spoke, breaking the moment of silence. “that hotel cost a fuckin’ fortune.”

rolling your eyes, you nodded. “you’re lucky i remembered we get travel insurance. who was it that was determined we didn’t, again?”

“oh, shut up,” bradley said, but you could see the outline of a smirk on his mouth. “no one ever told me we get that.”

“lies!” you laughed. “they put it in the ads, that if you get called up while away, they pay you back whatever you lost.”

it was bradley’s turn to roll his eyes. “alright, miss ‘i always read the fine print’.”

“at least i can read,” you joked back.

electing to ignore the snide comment he made back, you reached into the passenger side compartment, searching for your own sunglasses - feeling nothing. you looked around the car, sighing in defeat as you realised you must have left your pair at home.

spotting another pair of aviators on the dashboard, you picked them up. “can i borrow these?”

bradley looked at what you were referring to, almost laughing when he saw his spare glasses in your hand.

“go ahead, sugar, i won’t need ‘em.”

putting the sunglasses on, you pushed down the butterflies in your stomach that flew around with the pet name.

the hard deck came into view, looking busy already. it was so loud - you could practically hear the music playing from the jukebox all the way out here.

“takes you back, huh?” you asked.

“that it does,” bradley pulled into a parking spot. “feels like yesterday we were here last.”

“wrong,” you undid your seatbelt. “yesterday we were in a five star villa in bali.”

opening the car door, you stepped onto the concrete, your heels clicking against the ground. why did you wear these again? good god, it would be a long night. bradley joined you, walking towards the front door of the bar. it was so loud now - it was like you were already inside.

he pulled the door open, letting you in first. fireworks exploded all over your body as his hand moved around your waist, letting him manoeuvre himself to be standing next to you. you let him take the lead to where the rest of your team appeared to be, and you watched him walk - his swagger that was just so fucking hot almost making you forget you were stood completely still.

most of the faces you recognised - actually, you recognised all of them. pheonix, hangman, fanboy and payback we’re speaking to bradley, and someone you had recently been introduced to was the first person to notice you.

“rainfall! hey, how’s it going?” bob smiled at you, the other people snapping their heads to look at you as well.

“yeah, alright, how’re you?” you answered, him nodding a reply.

“wow,” hangman spoke first. “both rooster and rainfall arrive late, not in uniform? been busy, you two?”

“about as busy as your mum, hangman.” you retorted, those around you letting out a surprised laugh.

“that’s not the most important question,” pheonix tilted her head. “what the hell is this? what can they possibly be trying do here?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, prompting her to go on; “well, we’re the best there is. who the hell can teach us?”

the question took you by surprise - but it wasn’t irrelevant. the only briefing you had was this was a training program for an intense mission, and only those who had came top of the top gun class would be accepted, so, pheonix was thinking right. who could possible teach the best pilots out there?

a bell rang throughout the bar, interrupting your thoughts. everyone cheered, knowing exactly what the bell meant.

“poor guy,” rooster mumbled. “i’m going to the restroom, get me a drink?”

you nodded, walking over to the bar.

he wasn’t recognisable at first - he looked so different. but it was the eyes that gave it away, he was still young behind the eyes.

“it’s you, then.” you mumbled, taking the empty spot next to him at the bar.

maverick looked at you, realisation hitting when he clocked who you were. “nice to meet you, rainfall. i’ve heard lost about you.”

“so have i.” looking at him, he wasn’t the man you had built up in your head. he looked nicer.

sighing, maverick nodded slowly. “i thought that’s who you came in with.”

“he won’t want you to teach him, you know that, right? you… you ruined his life, maverick. his mum’s, too.” you said, although you knew it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard a million times already.

“yep,” maverick clicked his tongue. “i thought that would be an issue.”

“he hates you.”

“i know.”

bradley might have hated maverick, but you didn’t. sure, he was an arrogant ass from what you had heard and he destroyed your best friends family, but you personally had nothing against him.

penny walked over to you, interrupting your conversation with her greetings.

“wow, y/n, you’re here too? damn, what a mission.”

“hey, pen,” you smiled. “i know, i know.”

she raised her eyebrows. “must be serious, huh?”

you raised your hands in defence. “i have absolutely no idea what this mission’s about, swear.”

humming in response, she changed the subject; “what’re you for?”

“uhh, a blue WKD for me and the house beer for brad.”

she nodded, looking at the man next to you. “he’s paying, by the way.”

you almost laughed, turning to maverick. “unlucky son of a bitch. you better take a loan out, maverick.”

“how was i meant to know the rules, huh? i’ve not been here in god knows how long.” he grumbled.

both you and penny chuckled as she served your drinks, taking one in each hand and moving away from the bar, you turned to look at maverick again.

“mav,” you called, and he looked around. “good luck.”

he smiled, nodding. you would admit it would be hard work for him, and it must be difficult to teach the boy who’s father you watched die. but then again, he could have declined the job.

spotting bradley, you walked over to him and handed him the glass of beer. he thanked you, face contorting in disgust as you noticed what you were drinking.

“i don’t know how you stomach that stuff, sugar, it’s all sweetener.”

“says the man who threw up after three of them. they’re only like, three percent as well.”

bradley narrowed his eyes. “all sweetener.”

laughing, you walked with him to join the rest of the group. your feet already began to ache with every step you took, straps digging into your ankle. god - it would be a long night.

if you were counting how many drinks deep you were, you’d have used up all your fingers. you’d been here for a few hours, at least, the sun was almost setting now.

you could see it from the small window in the bathroom, the blur effect on the window turning the sunset into just colour. you didn’t need to pee or anything, just a minute. it was a fair assumption to say you were an extrovert, and loved to be around people, but the noise of the crowd in the bar had become slightly too loud, especially as maverick had just been thrown overboard.

the sound of a piano playing came muffled through the door, followed by a familiar singing voice. it made you smile; hearing bradley drunkenly scream out ‘great balls of fire’.

washing your hands and quickly drying them, you walked back out of the bathroom and into the crowd, thanking the girl who had been holding your drink for you. you walked towards the piano, seeing bradley completely in his element.

“kiss me baby, ooh! that feels good, good!” he sang, everyone joining in.

leaning against the piano, you joined in, the lyrics coming as a second language, this song was practically indented into your brain.

as you sang, you watched bradley’s hands hit every note perfectly, his fingers tracing the keys with a gentle-harshness, something that just about set you off. a man who was good with his fingers? lord have mercy.

he looked at you, as if on cue, smiling as you sang out the words. bradley took a spilt second to remove his hands from the keys, gesturing to his lap.

you tilted your head. he can’t be serious, can he?

“sit!” he called, hands going back to playing the instrumental section.

maybe it was the drinks you’d had, influencing your system. but it took you the whole of two seconds to decide to follow his order, slipping under his arm and placing yourself down on his lap. people around you whooped, especially the ones in your team. had this happened before? you couldn’t remember through the tipsy-horny-lovesick haze that had clouded your vision.

bradley’s leg bounced, making you laughing against his chest. when he started singing, you joined in with him, your voice coming out as more of a tuned shout compared to bradley’s angelic singing voice.

“kiss me baby,” you looked up at him. that second you made eye contact - that whole second - felt like an eternity. it felt like no one was watching, thay for once the love that remained behind your eyes finally appeared behind his, too.

or maybe that was the vodka shots talking.

“ooh! that feels good, good,” he sang.

you looked away, staring at his hands once again while you sang the words. if you had kept staring, you would have seen the way he looked at you while he sang; “i’ma tell the world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine!”

if you had seen that, you probably would have melted on the spot.

the song came to an end, everyone cheering for bradley’s fantastic piano performance, yourself included. you fell against his chest, laughing like a schoolgirl. he laughed too, taking his hands off of the keys to embrace you.

was this normal for best friends, you wondered? did everyone do this when they were drunk? the answer: wait and find out.

“i’m gonna get a drink,” you smiled at him, finally standing up.

“alright, darlin’, get me a beer?”

“god,” you feigned annoyance. “one day you’ll pay for your own beers, bradley bradshaw.”

you walked away before you heard his mumbled comeback; “yeah, our wedding day.” but, even if you hadn’t walked away, what would you have done?

walking to the bar, you leaned against it, ordering with penny for the god-knows-how-many-th time that night.

“thanks,” you smiled.

“is that a tan line i see?” penny asked, pouring out a beer.

“yep,” you popped the ‘p’. “i was in bali with brad, was supposed to be there until next week.”

“oh,” she sat down one of the glasses. “but you got called up?”

nodded, you took a drink of bradley’s beer, instantly regretting it. “fuckin’ hate the navy sometimes.”

penny stopped in her tracks. “oh, y/n, did i just hear what i think i did?”

your eyes widened. “no, penny, please, i’m seriously broke right now, i’m begging-”

the bell ringing cut you off. hanging your head, you felt multiple people clap your back.

“oh, no, what do we have here?” bradley appeared at your side, laughing.

“this one,” penny giggled. “was insulting the navy.”

bradley exaggerated a gasp, putting his hands over his mouth. “no!”

“yep!”

“tut, tut, tut, lieutenant l/n!” he joked.

you raised your middle finger in response.

“honestly, rooster,” penny was half way away, walking to serve another customer. “get your girlfriend under control!”

the heat rose to your cheeks, head snapping up. luckily for you, you were ninety-nine percent sure that bradley didn’t hear her, but when you were sober, you’d have to tell her off about almost spilling your decade long secret.

“my god, brad,” you walked away from the bar. “i’m gonna be so broke tomorrow.”

he giggled, a sound your drunk mind would have registered as the trumpets of heaven, the best music in the world - every lovely sound put together. god, how in love were you?

“come on, rainfall,” bradley led you to the table the group were all sat at. “the night is young!”

there’s a saying, if you had a dollar for every time this happened, you’d be rich. well, if you had a dollar for every time you’d gotten blackout drunk the day before the first day of training and had to get up at the crack of dawn, you’d have slightly too many dollars. every time, every single time.

as you sat, shoulders straight and hair tied ever so slightly too tight, the commander speaking about something you weren’t properly listening to - the thought of about seventy aspirin was popping into your mind, almost soothing your headache with the sheer thought of it.

footsteps came from behind you, but you didn’t turn around. you knew who it was. instead, you looked at bradley, who was sat in the chair next to you.

as his eyes fell on maverick, you noticed the way his whole smug demeanour fell - for just a moment. you then noticed how he put those walls straight back up, clenching his jaw and shifting in his seat. he cleared his throat, making eye contact with you and raising his eyebrows.

looking away, maverick started speaking.

you must have been truly hungover, because from the second maverick opened his mouth to right now felt like it went by in a blink - you couldn’t tell if you had dissociated the entire time or if you weren’t interested enough to actually pay attention.

zipping up your flight suit, you smiled to yourself. this was your first training exercise for what seemed to be an impossible mission. getting in and out of a thin passage within a minute and a half seemed unrealistic, but compared with the insanely low hard deck and the pull up? you’d be lucky if you made it out alive.

a few planes were already in the air as you stepped onto the tarmac, helmet in hand. looking to your right, you saw two planes, to your left; pheonix and bob doing push-ups.

the exercise was simple; don’t get caught. if you do, you have to do two hundred press ups.

you had almost laughed when maverick set the exercise, how insanely easy it sounded. unfortunately for maverick, he had never flown with you before - he hadn’t quite learnt the meaning of your call sign.

radio chatter sounded from your headset as you climbed into your plane, spotting bradley on the tarmac as well. everyone had insisted you two went last - the top two of the class. even hangman bit back his ego for two seconds to admit that you had finished top of the class, so you should go last.

that’s right, you came top of your class. one of the best pilots of the last decade, apparently. it had earned you quite a reputation, pilots almost always recognising you wherever you went. you were some kind of a legend.

buckling yourself in and triple checking your belts were secure, you pulled your helmet over your head, and your ears were filled with radio chatter. bradley got into the plane next to you, doing the same thing.

“when are we ready to take off, mav?” you asked, closing the top of your plane.

“any time now, rainfall.” he replied.

it was a feeling you always craved, taking off. as a little girl, you used to love going on holiday, just because when the plane would take off and your stomach would turn, it made you smile. from that moment, and from the moment you saw the pilots in all the different documentaries, you knew you wanted to fly planes.

just in a little more extreme way. a way, way more extreme way.

gaining speed, you clicked the needed buttons and flipped the right switches in order to take off, and the tarmac got smaller and smaller as you flew higher into the sky. hearing bradley take off a few moments later, you knew the game was about to begin.

you knew this would be personal for bradley - getting beaten by maverick. anything maverick did to him, it would be personal. you prayed he would be able to separate the pilot from the person, just for a minute.

“good morning aviators,” maverick spoke. “ready to play?”

“oh you are on,” you smiled, still gaining height. “old man.”

bradley laughed over the radio, making you smile even wider.

“for everyone listening over the radio,” you spoke. “get ready to listen to the best flight of your life.”

down on the ground, the rest of the team laughed.

“ready?” maverick asked. “three, two, one… the game has begun.”

you understood the purpose of this exercise - dogfighting. to watch out for yourself while attacking at the same time. playing both offence and defence.

seeing bradley slip into your peripheral, you looked around for the other plane. still gaining height, you hoped to god that your technique would stay reliable.

everything felt like a blur - you were flying so fast, so high, nothing felt real. keeping your eye out for maverick, you swerved through the clouds.

“all alright, rooster?” you hated calling him by his call sign. if felt so… impersonal, weird.

“all good here, rainfall. you?”

you nodded, even though he wouldn’t see it. “no sign of him.”

looking down, you could see bradley underneath you and to the right. he wouldn’t even notice you, if he hadn’t learnt to always look up.

“oh hello, you,” he said, the smugness seeping through the radio.

“hello, rooster.” you smiled.

as you stared down at him, a second plane came into view, far enough away that bradley wouldn’t notice him.

“rooster, on your left!” you called, swerving away as soon as you said it.

“shit,” he mumbled, and you could see him fly away.

“language, folks, come on.” maverick laughed.

“alright grandpa.” you joked back.

looking below you, you could barely see the two planes dogfighting, but from the small glimpse you got, it wasn’t looking great for bradley. maverick was too fast.

“hurry up, rooster,” you spoke your mind. “he’s faster than you.”

“yeah, thanks for that observation.” he grumbled back.

“cheeky.”

from your point of view, the dogfighting was getting even more intense, bradley constantly being tailed by maverick. you hoped once again, that bradley didn’t take this too seriously.

a dial tone broke your thought.

“and rooster, you are out.” maverick spoke over the radio, making you sigh.

“fuck you.”

and there it was; all of your proof that bradley had taken it personally. fuck, this would be a hard one to calm him down from.

“ready to fight, rainfall?” maverick said, and you could almost see his smirk.

pushing everything else in your mind to the side, you let the calm, slightly arrogant side of you take control.

“do you know why my call sign is rainfall?” you asked, already spotting maverick below you.

“i suppose you’re going to enlighten me?”

you let a beat of silence pass, making sure you were in the right position. it was obvious maverick was looking for you, but you were at least fifty feet above him, slightly in front of him. why did no one ever look up?

“or not?” maverick added.

“because,” you paused, gripping your gearstick a little tighter. “rain always comes from above, and you don’t see it until it’s on you.”

with those words, you descended with absolutely no warning. as you came closer to maverick, he seemed obviously surprised, fumbling for a moment to move out of the way so you didn’t fall straight into him.

“jesus, kid,” he mumbled.

“did you know that i came top of my class?” you pulled back up without hesitation, g-force pushing you back ever so slightly.

“yeah, i read it somewhere,” maverick was flying parallel to you. “i wasn’t too of my class.”

“oh, i know,” you somehow managed to keep your tone casual. “iceman, right?”

maverick hummed over the radio, obviously too focused on getting you out.

but your technique was working perfectly. descend on them, climb up, and when the least expect it….

pulling away, you circled around maverick, seeing the outline of a target appear in your helmet. he hadn’t even realised what you had done.

a dial tone sounded through the radio silence, everyone on land holding their breath - even bradley.

“you,” a voice cut through the radio. “are out. good game, maverick.”

the people on ground cheered almost loud enough for you to hear all the way up in the air.

“what the hell?” maverick was in disbelief. “what?”

“i’ll see you on ground, mav.”

the sun was already setting by the time maverick had finished his press ups. he must not have taken in personally, offering to buy you a drink for how well you had flown.

but you didn’t want a drink, you were too concerned with other things. it had been hours since the training had ended, and bradley was still outside, doing press ups.

you walked onto the tarmac, out of your flight suit and in casual clothes, the figure of bradley noticeable - everything still apart from him.

he was shaking, sweating, almost sunburnt. the most noticeable thing was his red eyes, they were so red you thought he must have burst a blood vessel.

“bradley?” you called, getting closer to him. he didn’t answer.

walking right next to where he was, you sat down. sat, right on the hot tarmac - it heated up your legs. “bradley, please,” you called again.

this wasn’t new - for him to do exercise until he just about burst. some people punch walls, some people drink - bradley worked out. maybe it was just as unhealthy as every other coping mechanism.

his arms were so shaky, he almost couldn’t even keep himself up right. you wanted right then and there to take him into your arms, let him cry his heart out and tell him that one day - one day in the future - it will get easier.

as if he could hear your thoughts, he stopped. collapsed onto the ground, arms finally giving in. you could hear him, choking out sobs between breaths - it just about broke your heart.

“come here,” your fingers brushed his arm, and it was like he just needed the instruction to do so, because he moved into your arms and clung onto your shirt, just like a baby.

you didn’t care where you were. no one was looking, anyway. everyone went home or went elsewhere hours ago, you and bradley were most likely the only two people left there.

“what is it?” you cooed, gently running a hand through his hair.

“he- my dad, he- maverick-” and that was all he had to stutter out for you to understand.

“i know, i know,” you bent over him, almost encasing him in your body. kissing his head, you repeated the phrase over and over again.

it was in that moment that for the second time in twenty four hours you thought to yourself - is this normal for best friends to do? it is, right? like, you would do it for any of your other friends?or maybe that’s what you liked to tell yoursef to deny the simple fact;

you were in love with bradley bradshaw, your best friend.

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en-rev · 2 months

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Enhypen x fem 8th member reader

Summary: En o'Clock ep 68, except you’re the 8th member of ENHYPEN

Note: Episode had to be changed slightly for the story. You are younger than Jungwon but older than Niki. You were also a part of Sunoo, Jay, and Jungwon’s group for the previous episode.

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After completing the tasks that the diary had set out for your group, you were carrying a box of snacks as you walked in Sunoo’s tracks. All of you were checking out the building in awe as it seemed like a fun and luxurious place to stay for filming.

Setting down the box you check out the tub by the window in what seems to be the entertainment area, “Wow, it's beautiful here” you talk to yourself as you gaze out the window. Hearing Jungwon run up the stairs, you turn and watch Sunoo as he mentions he also wants to see what's upstairs. Following Jay as he skips up the steps, your eyes widen as you see an air hockey table. “Oh my god… One of you needs to play against me in air hockey.” you let out quickly as you’re already searching for the puck. Looking up to see your members looking at the vending machine in the room you hover over them to see what they’re trying to win. “Do you think it’ll work right?”... “No, probably not”... Sunoo and Jungwon converse before being immediately disappointed seeing that the snack they tried to win was nowhere close to being grabbed by the claw. You almost giggle at how quickly they walk away from the machine.

As you all gather around the next machine, you begin to hype up Jay as you realize what it is. He jumps up and down as he prepares to throw a punch at the game. Seeing him finally throw the punch your mouth immediately drops… yeah he was strong but that seemed a little intense… you mentally make note to not really piss him off. “Woah, a 930! That's cool” Sunoo and Jungwon say as they begin to walk towards another section of the place. “I bet the other’s are gonna be all over that machine” you say as you follow behind Jay again. Seeing nothing but workout equipment you immediately head up to see what's on the third floor. Peering into the rooms and seeing the beds you smile as you skip down a little to find your own room. Being the only female member definitely had its perks. Looking in you also saw your own bathroom, you punched the air in excitement as you looked at the luxurious looking bathroom. Sunoo walks into your room, also wanting to check out what you were being given, “Wow, you’re too lucky” he practically pouts at how good your room is, knowing that you don’t have to share. “Should’ve known you would get the best.” Jay sighs in defeat as Jungwon laughs at him in amusement.

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Settling down again as we wait for the others to arrive, you slowly travel around the room to check out what's there again while dancing to yourself. Jungwon attempts to call the other members to show them the house they are staying in but they dont answer. “Oh, well…” he stretches. Pouting at his disappointment I point out something outside, “Ohhh! Look there's a bunch of stuff outside” you say as you run out the door with Jungwon quickly following. He smiles brightly as he grabs a water gun, looking at all the other things there are outside. “Lets fill these '' he says as he's already crouching by the pool, filling up the toy. You grab another one and begin to fill it up, smiling at the thought of messing with your members later. Sunoo and Jay come to check out what we're doing before heading to the lawn area to take pictures. “Hey, do you think I could stay on top of them without falling?” you ask with a large smile, pointing at the pile of floaties he was stacking together. He laughs loudly and stands, “You would not be able to” he practically wheezes at the thought of you trying. As Jay photographs Sunoo in the background shaking your head with confidence, “Watch this” you say as you practically fall onto the floaties he piled up. Not expecting one of your legs to miss almost completely, your right leg is in the water up to your mid thigh, your jeans feeling scratchy against your skin. Letting out a scream as you grip into the floaties and raise your leg out of the water, trying to avoid getting even more wet. “My mic! Jungwon please…. Get me up!” you shout in panic as you struggle to stay afloat on the water floaties. You hear Jay's loud laugh as he hunches over and takes pictures of you, half soaked struggling to stay afloat on floaties that are practically submerged in the water. Sunoo’s hand flies to his mouth as he laughs at the scene before him and Jungwon is on the cement laughing at your struggle.

They laugh more before they try to help you out of the water, Jay grabs onto the back of your jeans and Jungwon is holding onto your arm as they try to lift you. Sunoo laughs as he records the scene to show the others later. “Yah, hold still or else we’ll drop you” he explains as he attempts to pull you up with one arm, Jungwon is still laughing at you as he pulls the floaties closer to the edge. Just as Jay has you in the air by your jeans, he struggles as he attempts to pull you back to land…. But your jeans begin to slip a little. Editors edit an emoji over you as a sliver of your underwear shows, and it almost looks like Jay is giving you a wedgie. “JAY!!!” you scream as you go to pull at your jeans, causing you both to yell as he loses his grip and you're submerged in water, almost dragging him down with you. The three boys laugh as you submerge quickly with a gasp before making your way to climb out of the water. Standing up everyone can clearly see the mic under your shirt, and how it definitely is ruined at this point. Though, knowing you, those things would inevitably happen. Seeing them almost red from laughing, you run towards them while shaking your body as an attempt to get them wet. You all laugh before you grab under your shirt to remove the mic and show it to them while pouting, “I should’ve known it was a bad idea” you sign out as they enjoyed how the events played out. “I’ll go get changed” you state before grabbing something to dry yourself with and head up to change into some swimwear.

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After you had changed you were chilling in your room while scrolling through your phone for a bit. You heard the others messing around outside before they also came in to change. You were braiding your hair as you heard the boys karaoking downstairs. Chuckling, you finish braiding your hair before you rush downstairs in your swimming clothes which are similar to Sunoo’s except your top is a dark blue color. Rushing downstairs you go to join singing but stop in your tracks as you see that the rest of your members have arrived. You immediately almost burst out laughing seeing how half asleep they are. Jungwon in excitement begins to give the others a tour of the place as you stay downstairs and converse with Sunoo, finding out that he was pushed into the pool earlier by Jay and laughing at how he tells the story to you.

Once everyone gathers outside, you’re immediately in the pool attempting to do a handstand underwater as Jay is living his aerobic swimmer fantasies. Sunoo is in the water and immediately begins to mess with Jay as he swims underwater. They play as you swim back and forth in the pool, you’ve always found the water to be relaxing. Deciding to lay on a floatie you peacefully lay there as you drift around calmly in the water. You hear Heeseung playing basketball, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunoo playing and splashing each other, pushing each other into the water. After living with all of the guys for so long, it's become easy to block their loud yells out, and you begin to drift into a light sleep as you lay your head onto the floatie.

Hearing a bunch of splashing brings you out of your sleep and you shoot up as you see them all jumping in, causing your floatie to almost tip over. Raising your head up you look and see everyone is in the pool and your eyes widen. When did everyone decide to get in? Shrugging slightly you continue to float on your floatie as you watch niki do flips into the pool, and enjoy seeing everyone having a good time. Flipping off of your floatie you swim underwater before approaching Jake from underneath. Jumping out of the water right in front of him you attempt to scare him, startling him as he tries to back away from your sudden appearance. Everyone laughs and he chuckles before splashing some water at you, before continuing to float around on the donut floatie. Swimming you approach Niki as you’ve barely interacted with him since he came and begin to splash him before running away, you both laugh as he tries to get revenge before getting on the shark floatie with you pushing him.

Eventually, everyone begins to play together, everyone underwater as you all participate in a breath holding challenge. However as everyone goes face down into the water, you plug your nose and go under, but keep your eyes above to watch everyone. Seeing Sunoo begin to drift and grip the wall, you almost laugh before seeing Jay rise. Sunoo quickly rises after and laughs at how they’re the first ones to lose before they notice you. They immediately notice you with your eyes above the water and begin laughing. “Hey, isn’t that cheating?” Jay suspects as he looks to Sunoo for confirmation. He just laughs before Jake rises, from the water, disappointed that he wasn’t first place. Still holding your breath, with your mouth underwater as your eyes still watch everyone else, you manage to keep holding your breath. Honestly it wasn’t very hard… however an idea struck you. You and Sunoo were honestly like telepathically linked, and you gave him a mischievous look, one he recognized well. Sunoo smirks and begins to climb out of the pool,“Let’s go wash up.” He states quickly, and like the flash, all three of them were rushing inside with you deciding to give up the contest and run after them, forgetting that you didn’t actually have your own shower to use whenever you wanted.

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As the other members in the pool celebrate holding their breath for a long time, their victory is short lived. “The other’s went inside to go wash up” Jungwons eyes widened, and Niki realized that his victory was in vain. He lets out a whine before plummeting into the water, pretending he was dead. Heeseung and Sunghoon laugh at his reaction, even though they were also disappointed that they would be showering last. Jungwon shakes his head at the camera, “It was Y/n’s idea huh?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. They quickly furrow when they tell him it was Sunoo, each of the other members in the pool’s eyes widened. “Oh no! She’s rubbing off on him” they exclaim, knowing that you were always playing some sort of shenanigans. Niki slaps the water and quickly jumps out of the pool, running into the house. The others in the water laugh, knowing he was probably going to go bother you for ruining his victory.

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As you prepare your shower, the door to your personal room was locked. Gathering your pajamas and skincare before you get into the shower, you sing to yourself quietly before falling to the floor in fear as someone begins to pound on your door. All your items fly into the air as the door shakes, and you feel the vibrations on the floor. “Yah, you scared me!!!” You shout while trying to peek under the door to see who it is. “I was supposed to shower first, I won! But because of YOUR influence, I have to wait now!” Niki taps a foot angrily on the floor and you almost laugh out loud at how silly it looks from the sliver of space you can see under the door. You laughed, imagining what his face might look like right now and are practically wheezing. He always looked cute when he was angry. “I’ll let you use mine after I’m done!” you shout as you enter your bathroom.

Unknown to you, Niki stands at your door defeated. He slumps over, and his head hits your door and he stands there for a while before he runs suddenly. Now it was time for Sunoo to be bothered as he showered.

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This one is a lot shorter and probably less interesting than my last post but I tried to write something. I also didn’t proofread, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Also I’m trying to get better at making my posts better looking. If you have any suggestions on something I should write, let me know and I'll see what I can do! :)

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