#Also if this is not clear this is a JOKE!!!! I love my friends very dearly it's just so funny 2 me when I go off on huge rants abt bands an
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Sinsmas thoughts (MAJOR SPOILERS)
BLITZZZZZZZZZ WHY DO YOU LOVE THE HORSES??????????
OMGGGGGGG THE EGGS THING
STOLAS AND BLITZ DOMESTIC MOMENTS OMGGGGGGGGG IM DEAD
Stolas and Blitz were just so cute this whole episode Iâm dead
THE MONTAGE AWWWWWW
NOOOOOO STOLAS NEEDS HIS XANS
Stolas was just fun and iconic this whole episode fr
Okay Sinsmas is iconic Iâm glad they explained what it is lol
STOLAS BEING SCARED BY MOX AND MIL FIGHTING OMGGGGGGGG
BLITZ CHEERING ON STOLAS AT THE PHONE WAS SO FUCKING SWEET AND FUNNY IM CRYING đ
That homophobic client made me want to kill her Iâm glad they threw her out the window later
That being said I wonder how she died? She had wooden antlers maybe a tree fell on her?????????? It doesnât seem like the ex husband had anything to do with it
NOOOO STOLAS NEVER KILL YOURSELF YOU DESERVE TO LIVE YOU NEED YOUR XANS
No but actually AS SOON as Millie threw up and it WASNâT a âgetting sick from all the joy and jollyâ joke I knew she was pregananant
Itâs so touching how Blitz decided not to kill the family very reminiscent of episode 1 and emblematic of his development
THIS EPISODE JUST PUNCHED ME IN THE GUT OVER AND OVER
No but Stella and Andralphusâ laughs made me want to murder them fr
No but I CANNOT actually believe that we were right about the Stolas secretary thing good work chat
NOOOOOOOO STOLAS PLANT GONE đ„Č
Octaviaâs song was so good!!!!!!! But so heartbreaking
THE PANO SHOT DURING VIAâS SONG IM FLOORED
âIM POOR NOWâ OMGGGGGGGGGGG STOLAS đ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł
STOLAS HAVING A MELTDOWN BEFORE SEEING VIA
YES STOLAS BEAT ANDREPHUSâ ASSSSSSSSS
OMG BLITZ RISKING HIS LIFE FOR STOLAS
LOONA UPGRADE???????? HOW?????? WHY???????
The animation on that fight was incredible
Omgggggggg Octavia and Stolasâ conversation was heartbreaking
STOLASâ SOBS WHEN VIA WENT AWAY BREAKS MY HEART
As someone whoâs parents divorced when I was a teen I deeply respect and admire Stolasâ apprehension to talk about how shitty Stella was to Via but I also feel like that would clear a lot of things up so oooooooooooooo Iâm so conflicted
Yeah I think they both need time to think and hopefully Via understands someday
Okay but Iâm so glad that Loona has her own friends Iâm so happy for her
Omg Millie called Sallie May about her pregnancy đ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„ș
Not but when I saw the drinks get pulled out I hugely expected to see a reaction from Millie but whatever
Omgggg Blitz talking about his sister maybe theyâll make up next season đ„ș
no but actually I kinda love that the episode ended with them dancing and hugging instead of kissing thatâs a bold iconic move love it no notes
No but Iâm actually so anxious for Millie girl do whatever you need to do but please talk to Moxxie Iâm sure heâll be on board with whatever
No but I didnât anticipate the pregnancy that was COMPLETELY out of left field and that kinda hit me more than the stolitz moments did (I lowkey have Tokophobia so thatâs probably why)
This is so interesting because weâre about to go into a season that probably focuses on parent-child relationships and whatever Millie decides will be an interesting part of that theme
Yeah I have no idea where theyâre going to take this
Iâd be pleasantly surprised if they go the abortion route it feels like shows never do that but I feel like more shows should and I think Viv is bold enough to go that path
Incredible episode great season finale canât wait for more 10/10!!!!!!
#helluva boss#sinsmas#helluva boss sinsmas#stolitz#blitz helluva boss#helluva boss blitz#millie helluva boss#helluva boss millie#moxxie helluva boss#helluva boss moxxie#stolas#stolas goetia#my ramblings#my rambles#tw abortion#abortion tw#tokophobia#abortion#pregnancy#tw pregnancy#pregnancy tw
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Jealous aruani are fun and all, but...what if it's their friend that's the reason for the jealousy??? No love triangles.
Annie suddenly feels a twinge of irritation when she sees Pieck say something to Armin and they laugh together. Or maybe Armin overhears gossip about how Annie Leonhart and Connie Springer look so cute together. The next time he sees Connie, his stomach twists. And it's terrible!
Considering how Armin and Annie both have self-esteem issues...well, I can see how that could happen. Irritation, doubt, jealousy, and self-loathing for feeling that way about a friend. it's just painful, stupid and awkward. I have no idea how they will solve thisđ
Hello jealousy anon! As promised, and thank you for the ask, it made me laugh xD
Because of-fucking-course there's nobody more capable of causing problems for Aruani off more than their very own family xD If you ask me, outsiders don't have the type of talent the other four have in creating misunderstandings and unnecessary chaos xD Plot-required-3rd-party-love-interest who? Move over, here's Connie the Springer man!
At first it's all quite unintentional. Connie spends time with Annie because Circumstances and Coincidence and hardly notices Armin's watery puppy eyes gazing at him from a depressing corner. It's not like Armin ever says anything out loud either because of course, he's happy! He's happy Annie has a silly friend that makes her laugh and forget that she's awkward and possibly frightening around people. He's glad Connie comes prepackaged with a whole lot of shitty jokes that happen to tickle her. He's really fucking glad Connie treats Annie like he treats everyone else!
But. Connie can also... dance. Really well. Like the guy's got those moves and can easily take Annie for a nice spin. He also... makes her laugh, like... a lot? A lot lot? Hm.. has Annie ever laughed like that with me? Uh... yeah, nevermind that, um- oh god, Connie's been looking pretty nice lately in those suits and he's rather good with the whole easy-fashion thing and uh- well shit, it's Connie, he's my friend, he's not- no, I mean, that photo in the newspapers was just an accidental shot, of course Annie was just laughing at his bad joke but well... she did look really happy with him and, oh shit--
Man.
Pieck on the other hand, doesn't fuck with people more than necessary. I don't actually see her getting *too* close with Armin but they do become very good friends! They have a lot in common, (for example music) and vibrate on the same atomic level of "yeah this is wrong and backhanded and probably will get us arrested in 18 countries but lets do it hehe". Hc that they probably get off to a slightly rocky start as Pieck doesn't put much faith in Armin's "naivete" and harbours resentment for his blowing up of Liberio's port, but as time goes by, they grow closer!
Maybe... too much closer for someone's liking đ
Because okay? Annie gets it, she finds politics too boring and her takes end up being too cynical and skeptical in the room. Technically, she's glad Armin has someone in Pieck who will humour his ideas with a generous (but nice) dash of realism. Also, they enjoy picking out records together and she often finds them nodding their heads to a new tune once home.
She's glad, okay?
She is, she really is-
*sound of a thigh being stabbed followed by sounds of Reiner screaming*
Pieck is a cheerful girl tho đ„Č
On a serious note, both Aruani are going to feel like total crap about this jealousy tho. Because as you said, it's their friends, their literal family who they share a lot of time and space with, and if anything could be clear it's that none of them want to see Aruani unhappy. So its not real, it's not anything to worry about, it's all just in their heads-
And yet.
Tbh the extra funny bit about this is gonna be when Connie and Pieck realize what they're doing to their poor lemonheads xD
"What! We're making you jealous?! wHAaT?? ... Hell YEAH, LET'S TURN IT UP!"
đ„Čđ„Čđ„Čđ„Č
I mean what else did you expect lol, Pieck and Connie are that duo who are going to derive more entertainment from their very own organic, homegrown family-drama than the moving pictures being shown in the town-square.
Suddenly it's all: "HEHE Armin, I bought Annie CAKES, see? FIVE Cakes! FiVE delICIOUS cakes and *I* am going to give it to her! Me!"
and: "Annniieeeeeeee~~ Oh no, why the long face this morning? Btw did you know Armin wants kids? Like a lot of kids? He told me- oh, he didn't tell you? Hehe I thought you'd be the first to know hehehehehe"
Their approaches to fanning this dumpster fire are different đ
Their solution when things get too Sad?? Lock Aruani up in a room. Always ends well.
#that's not to say Jean and Reiner don't end up pouring fuel on the fire#tho in their cases it's more unwittingly than otherwise#aruani#headcanon#armin arlert#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#annie leonhart#snk#aot#aruannie#armin x annie
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Merry Sinsmas
Alastor x Reader
Just a little thought I'd like to share with you because Iâm in the Christmas mood.
I hope you enjoy reading it and if you celebrate Christmas: I wish you a Merry Christmas. And if you don't: I hope you have a great few days anyway. :)
And to all of you: Merry Sinsmas. :D
Warning: I hope you don't mind that this short story briefly mentions that you are from Germany. If you can't identify with this, just see this sentence as a joke to wriggle out of a situation.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
You're standing in the hotel lobby with a clipboard in your hand, working through a to-do list. You are in the middle of your Christmas preparations. Charlie and Vaggie are busy decorating the big tree in the centre of the lobby next to the stairs, Niffty is cleaning and judging by her crazy laugh, she's in a very Christmassy mood.
Lucifer is tending to the fairy lights, Husk is making punch for everyone and Angel and Cherri Bomb are getting the sound system ready.
As you stare at your clipboard, thinking about what you could do next, you notice out of the corner of your eye a shadow rise from the floor and stand next to you.
You don't even have to lift your eyes to realise that it's Alastor, standing so close to you that his large body is pressed against you.
You hear a snap of fingers, but you skilfully ignore it.
You're too busy dealing with the fact that the radio demon is invading your comfort zone - as he so often does.
It doesn't take long before he clears his throat meaningfully, inviting you to give him your attention.
So you raise your eyes and suppress your annoyed expression as best you can.
You look at him expectantly. What does he want?
He looks down at you with a mischievous smile. Then he takes a quick look at the ceiling before his eyes wander back to you.
You look up and see a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, obviously conjured up by him.
You sigh slightly.
So he wants to be kissed.
Alastor is really trying everything he can to get to you. You realise that he's been trying to make advances to you for months and win your heart with small - and also very large - gestures.
What you keep to yourself the whole time: He won your heart a long time ago. But you don't want to admit it.
Yes, you fancy Alastor - oh, you're so in love with him!
But your fear of commitment and the fact that he's one of the most dangerous demons here in hell stop you from getting involved with him.
Much to the displeasure of your friends, because the tension between Alastor and you has left its mark on them too and now they really want to see you two as a couple.
"Hahaaaa, there's a little green branch hanging right above us. What funny coincidences there are, aren't there, my dear?" he says euphorically in his radio filter voice.
"Real coincidences, yes," you reply sarcastically and leave it at that. At least that's what you try to do, but there's no way Alastor will let you get away with it.
He steps closer to you - it's hard to believe that's still possible - leans forward slightly and says: "You know I'm a man of tradition. In my day, we followed every custom without even batting an eyelid. It would be a shame for me and my inner well-being if you didn't appreciate my traditions, sweetheart."
You give him a wry, cheeky grin. Then you turn away from him and say: "Well, it's just a shame that I'm from Germany and this mistletoe tradition isn't practised there."
You move away from him and leave him standing there in his indignant static noise.
"OH NO, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Angel suddenly shouts across the lobby. He jumps up from his chair and stomps angrily towards you, grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you back on your heels under the mistletoe, where he sets you down right in front of the radio demon.
He grumbles: "We're not in fucking Germany here, we're in hell! And here ya don't just kiss under the mistletoe, here ya even fuck when ye're standin' under it! So do yerself and us a favour and respect our traditions! Ya kiss that creepy man now, understand?"
#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#radio demon#alastor imagine#fanfiction#alastor x oc#fanfic#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor fanfiction#alastor hazbin#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor radio demon#hazbin alastor x reader#the radio demon#hazbin hotel x reader
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[guy who lives in lowkey constant fear of being flanderized and infantalized and flattened and misunderstood and not taken seriously as an entire human person with complex thoughts and feelings in real life] yeah I dunno why I feel so strongly and get so defensive about Fantasy Racism and fantasy-race stereotyping it's just a really big sticking point for me for some mysterious reason
#justin NPCs being casually racist to aubree for being a halfling because he's intentionally doing well-thought-out fantasy worldbuilding#vs jill NPCs being casually racist to tsakesh very obviously because SHE is thinking of him as A Kitty who also loves drugs and crime#rather than LISTEN!! to literally ANYTHIIIING I ever said about what he's actually like as a person!!!#justin: this NPC is projecting stereotypes onto you because they don't see halflings as real people#jill: this NPC is projecting stereotypes onto you because *I* can't conceptualize a khajiit as a real person-- even your PC#['real people' as in within the bounds of their own fictional worlds obviously]#OH BOY THE LATTER FEELS REALLY BAD. AND I REALLY LOVE MY FRIEND BUT GUESS WHO DOES THIS THE MOST TO PEOPLE IRL TOO LMAO#TO BE EXTREMELY CLEAR: NOT in an irl racism way! but in an 'I've decided your entire personality is [misinterpreted quirk]' way#IT'S SO WEIRD THAT I GET SO WEIRD ABOUT GNOMES BEING TREATED AS A JOKE RACE BECAUSE THEY HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOR.#IT'S SO WEIRD THAT I GET SO FUCKING ANGRY ABOUT TOLKIEN ELVES BEING REBRANDED AS DEEPLY STOIC AND SERIOUS#SO THAT THEY CAN BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY-- BECAUSE ANY SILLINESS UTTERLY PRECLUDES SERIOUSNESS OR COMPLEXITY#IT'S SO! WEIRD!! THAT I FEEL SOME KIND OF WAY ABOUT HALFLINGS BEING UNIVERSALLY TYPECAST FOR HOW THEY LOOK!!#WHICH THEY COULDN'T HELP EVEN IF THEY WANTED TO!!#WEIRD WEIRD WEIRD!! WOWIE!!!#there are a million reasons dungeon meshi is the best but this is one of them. tbh.#'this man looks 12. this isn't a joke it's a reality of this world and it's something he has to live with and people Aren't Normal about it#'but he's still an entire person. do you hear me?? he is still an entire human being!!'#'you thought this dog-man was a silly funney joke but joke's on YOU because he's ALSO an entire goddamn person'#'and everyone in-world who treats him like just a funney doggy is wrong! they're just perpetuating in-world racism!'#IT LIVES ITS ENTIRE LIFE SO YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT SERIOUSLY EVENTUALLY#HOLLERING INTO THE SKY#about me
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Hi hello to you! For the ask game(s), 2, 6, 10 and 14? And đïžđđ (for bluebelle, I'm not aware if you have other ocs :0)
YAYYAYAYAYAYAY MORE BLUEBELLE ASKS!!!!!!!
Hi hello!!!! Thank you so much!!! Ooo these ones are making me thinkâŠâŠ
2. She is 1000% down to do whatever shenanigans of the week the rest of the gang is up to. When I think of this, Iâm mostly picturing her with other OCs, but in general, if itâs her friends, and sheâs comfortable enough, though sheâs not as loud with her ideas, she will 100% help you rob a bank.
6. It definitely depends on the situation. She doesnât encounter many situations that go against her moral code, but if she did, it wouldnât take much more than a threat against her or the people that she loves. Bluebelle will stick to her morals, but she is not willing to risk injury or harm to her friends, or to herself, though the latter of the two depends on the situation, and how bad morally the action is.
10. Bluebelleâs backstory is already pretty much a fairytale au, but thatâs still a go to, but outside of that is a detective sitcom with the rest of the gang. And this is not because Iâm watching Psych for the first time what do you mean.
By Detective sitcom I mean anything from Murders She Wrote to Scooby Doo. Just her and her friends investigating spooky situations. Itâs so so fun.
Bluebelle would be the quiet type best for gathering intel undercover, as a security guard or something, mostly where her job would be snooping around. She would NOT be good at talking to suspects or witnesses. She could just if push came to shove, but itâs just not her forte.
14. Bluebelle just really, really wants to be loved and trusted. Victoria is her person, so she really, really cares what she thinks. Misto and Plato definitely less so, but only by a slim margin. Bluebelle cares so so much for her people, and wants them to do the same for her
Iâll do the silly emojis under the cut bc whew this got long :DD
I already did the handshake one :)))
đ: this snail is now her new best friend. She will not go anywhere without this snail. Bluebelle has been trusted with this snailâs life and she will NOT fail.
đ: Probably Mary from JCS(Jesus Christ superstar).
WoahâŠanother alw musicalâŠ..is it too late to say Iâm sensing a patternâŠ.
I think sheâd really relate to I Donât Know How To Love Him, and probably have a pretty easy time dipping into those complicated and upsetting feelings you have to be in to sing that song, (I am calling myself out 100%).
#âŠI do actually have 2 more OCs#one is mostly a joke and the other because I wanted to create a design based off of my childhood stuffed animal#her name is Aurora and sheâs the love of my life#but she looks so similar to Vicci#either way sheâs special#the other one is Pesto#because I drew a lil cartoon doodle of Misto and wrote âšprestoâš next to it#and my friend that I wrote Pesto#so now his name is pesto#heâs like Misto but heâs all black and also he doesnât have pointed ears#prolly wonât ever mention them but yk#my lil guys#ANYHOW I did some thinking anddddd im putting more and more thought into the oc Scooby gang as we speak#as we speak!!!!#mysticâs foxglove is Fred#bc heâs strong and nice and kind but is also smart#tokiâs Chaumet is Velma#bc he seems like heâd be putting all the clues and pieces together#I have a very clear vision of foxglove and Chaumet pouring over a map together#emâs clownaire is foxglove bc heâs the swingingest gymnast in school#and Bluebelleâs Daphne but I couldnât figure out reasoning for it#oh well#anyways THANK YOU SM FOR SENDING AN ASK I LOVE YOUUU đ«¶đ«¶#asks!!!!!!!#cats the musical#cats musical#cats oc#jellicle oc
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VIVID fucking idea I had last night....
Background info, I think Moe has some really distinct tendencies that Alfonse ends up being able to immediately identify it by (and finds a lot of comfort in doing so). One of which, is it doing a quiet, hesitant, but steady knock. Persistent, but with long pauses in between.
ENTER..... the Vision........ just. This entire sequence. "You'll never hear from me again". Into, the quiet knock only a few hours later. Into bursting in with the MOST enthusiastic, "HOLY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Moe really is Some Type of Guy LMFAOO
Fave panels.......
#fire emblem#feh#thinking way back to that one ratatoskr moe comparison comic i made. where in one scene#ratatoskr startles alfonse vs alfonse immediately identifying moe is following him due to it's shuffling/Noticable Presence#like i feel like you would just be able to Feel it. like when you can feel your pet Looking at you#staring at you. intensely.#a little bit of characterization i put into alfonse there is him preferring that actually.#finding comfort in knowing exactly where his loved ones are/being able to tell immediately if they're near#this comic is also. such a good portrayl of how their dynamic ends up being actually.#moe says A Lot of things. that aren't always necessarily true. it makes odd jokes and can be VERY flighty#its number one response to anything stressful is to Leave. also deeply psychologically.#it just feels like it Has To. it is always saying it.#but after a while it becomes clear to alfonse that moe's words really don't match up w its actions.#and after a lot of work. esp on moe's end for alfonse's sake. moe still has a lot of trouble w it tbh#that response is just so deeply ingrained in it. but they Do end up building a level of trust between them#alfonse has faith in moe. moe's love for alfonse is stronger than its fear and seething hatred of romance in general#they are.. best friends.... in the historian sense but also. literally. that is the most important part.#also. moe absolutely is on the other end of this as well whenever alfonse has to do something and moe needs to stay behind#AND IT IS. handling it WAY WORSE LMFAOOO it is soooooo fucking mad..... entirely at itself/its own feelings đđđ#moe is just. a guy who has A Lot of VERY intense feelings. and it hates every fucking second of it đđđđđ#but it's like. it doesn't even feel That strongly.... it's FINE..... it's handling this sooooo well.#it's SO much better than alfonse. way more well-adjusted. clearly.#fe alfonse#moe tag#summoner oc#my art#my comics#moe lore#esp @ the tags LMFAOO the Snippets..... the Glimpses into its character.......
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im not particularly into romantic ships !! (but i like contributing 2 ask games) sooo hmm... whats ur favorite canon friendship or dynamic ? or one u'd like to see in jjba?
Don't worry- I like this ask too.
I wouldn't say I have one canon (non-romantic) character dynamic in particular that I would consider my favorite, but I can list a few of them in no particular order:
-Polnareff and Abdul (I also think the ship is pretty cute)
-Diavolo and Doppio (I find this one the most fun to think & talk about for obvious reasons)
-Trish and Bruno
-Yasuho and Josuke (8) (this one was sort of implied-romantic, but I'll count it)
-Josuke (4) and Okuyasu
-Jolyne, Foo Fighters & Hermes
I also really would've liked to see what an interaction between Doppio and Trish would've looked like- both of them were criminally underused and it's a shame.
I get very excited about character dynamics, but I don't really care much for romantic ships myself either. When I say I "like" a ship, most of the time what I mean by that is if a mutual or friend is into it, I'll nod and give a thumbs up from the sidelines or maybe think "oh, that's kind of cute, sure". The only times I get the "shippy" feelings that I assume are the main appeal of shipping is if I care about one or preferably both characters very, very much, which just doesn't happen often. (Also, I get kind of irrationally territorial about characters I care about to that level, so I'd probably only trust ship art from me and a few people lol.)
#asks#ask game#(very long tag ramble incoming oops)#it's also dependent on if i think the character is shippable or not- most of my favs really aren't#i am particularly turned off by most (serious) ships with diavolo in it. they all feel ooc#i just don't think you can write him falling in love or dating somebody and have it be in character like... at all#(with the exception being donatella who i have a whole jumble of thoughts on)#doppio ships are also squicks for me but for different reasons#i find kiraboss the least 'bad' popular diavolo ship in that i find it tolerable but i don't feel like it works as a serious thing#though for a while me and my friends started shipping diavolo with pucci as a joke and i thought it was hilarious#but then i saw a popular artist post serious pucci x diavolo and it kinda ruined it for me sjdfkldsjfk. anyways.#for a non-JJBA fav example this is also the same for ZIM. one of his big things is that he doesn't care much for anyone but himself#except like... GIR. he just doesn't have the personality for a ship to work for me#romance in invader zim is just an odd concept in general i think...#the valentine's day episode introduced a girl irken and had her ''date'' zim and make them the most atrocious pairing ever#just to highlight the absurdity of romance in IZ... but then people started shipping them because. i can only assume they missed the point?#ship what you want but the point of that episode seemed clear to me idk
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My friends r being mean to me :(( (<- merely asking how many songs a band has and how long it's been since they last existed anywhere after I go on a two hour rant about how the given band is the best thing to ever exist.)
Anyways on a completely unrelated note, listen to Mind Body Problem
#Mind Body Problem isn't actually that bad on disappearing off the face of the earth BUT I never stfu abt it I literally adore their music sm#listen 2 them or I will make sad little puppy dog eyes at you!! they r soooooo good but it feels like nobody else knows them :((#Also if this is not clear this is a JOKE!!!! I love my friends very dearly it's just so funny 2 me when I go off on huge rants abt bands an#then have 2 admit those bands have like 2 songs total and only played for a year and haven't existed on the internet in 5+ years
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motw tomorrow. i want to bring back the posting era.
#pulling directly from my dms w hannah bc iâve been on this for a while#but one of the hardest things and things that make me most anxious about playing cedar is trying to make sure she doesnât come across as#a joke or as totally off-the-walls with her reactions to people/situations. or like inconsistency w what she says or does in a way#that doesnât come across as a deliberate character choice. and i definitely donât want her to feel stagnant#like. sheâs been pretty bratty and unwelcoming to jessamine and even a little bit sam! who was one of her best friends#and has certainly also lashed out even within her new group of friends/allies (parch and the creature in very dif ways esp đ)#so when hannah was like âshould jessamine be worse?â worried that making someone cedarâs so pissed with seem like. kind of fine. is shitty#but the thing is i think cedar is uh#she has a lot of rage and unpacked trauma from the shit w the red riders that she doesnât know what to do with#which has totally fucked w her ability to analyze the situation and relationships she had and has formed so she#doesnât know how to feel and therefore act towards them?#which. maybe ooc is an annoying character choice for me to make but.#she sure canât form a clear internal stance on Any of the people she used to love and trust more than anyone!#and like. everyone else doesnât really care if isaiah dies and she doesnât KNOW how she feels about him but#sheâs stuck âwavering between being viciously angry at isaiah & still being so upset that she can't even talk about what's happening to him#so. this next session or two is certainly going to push to SOME sort of breaking point!#and then of course thereâs all our agonies. but thatâs for a separate post.#motwinchester#cedar
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okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.
and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.
i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?
and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.
and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.
so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?
but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.
it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.
#he still has a lot of growth to do but at least he has people he can grow with đ#dungeon meshi#laios touden
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â rivals... in love?
- gojo satoru x reader
gojo is in shamblesâso suguru might have a crush on you too?
genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff
note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
No way. There is just no way.
Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.
âGeto-san, thatâs so funny!â
With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.
Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flamesâthat was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!
"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."
And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. âNah, wait until you see thisââ
"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.
It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazinesâSatoru had deemed it as such.
âŠRight?
At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasnât shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.
And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?
Heh, no one.
(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, âSuguru!â)
âSo what's with the nice act, huh?â Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. âDo you like her or something?â
Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. âWhat?â
âDonât play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,â and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, âWait till you see this~â
Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. âCome on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chattingââ
âNot that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?â
It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him thenâ
âHeh, so what if I am?â
That's the wrong answer.
Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"
âSheâs a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,â Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. âOnly a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just mightââ
âWhaâhey!? Thatâs totally foulâ!â
âNah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isnât it?â
By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boostâyou favored him first.
This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...
Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.
Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.
And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.
"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"
You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you justâ"
"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."
"Who are you talkiâ"
"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"
You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.
âFirst, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?â
"Gojo, I don't have the timeâ"
"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"
"You're unbelievâ"
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friendsâ"
"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"
"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."
You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."
"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"
He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."
How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.
"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy richâ"
At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"
Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:
"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."
Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.
It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...
Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lipsâthat somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"
But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."
His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"
"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."
Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?
And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.
Epilogue
In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friendsâ"
"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"
Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."
"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."
"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."
Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Ohâoh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"
"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"
-> continue to extended cut !
#đđđŁđ đđđĄđđđđ #gojo satoru x reader#jjk drabbles#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#jjk x you#gojo x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru imagines#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.
Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.
She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.
Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.
-
You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; sheâd also become a good friend after your many visits.
The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.
âCome in!â You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- âOh my God!!â You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. âWhat the hell are you doing here?!â
"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.
"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.
"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"
"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"
"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.
"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.
"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.
"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"
"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.
"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.
"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"
"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.
âShitâ you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.
It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...
"Better stop making those sounds"
"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.
"Princess..."
"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"
-
You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.
"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"
You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.
"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"
You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.
"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"
"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"
"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.
"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"
-
"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.
"You alright angel?"
"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.
"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.
"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.
"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"
Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.
"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.
"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.
-
"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.
"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.
"Wasn't me"
-
just an idea.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x freader#bucky barnes x fanfic#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky x smut#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#enemies to lovers#enemies to lovers bucky barnes#bucky barnes enemies to lovers#bucky barnes imagine#biker bucky x you#biker bucky au#marvel biker au#biker bucky
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18+ / mdi
content: newbf!vernon, based off this quote, appearance from some svt members, afab reader, smut(?), suggestive, etc.
wc: 1848
a/n: this is such an odd premise but it caught my attention so yeah<3
masterlist
"i dont get the joke," seungkwan cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner.
"yeah, april fool's was last month?," added joshua.
"there's no joke. we're dating."
even as you and vernon found yourselves cuddled up on the couch, â in a manner only a couple would intertwine with each other â your friends seemed unimpressed by the mere suggestion of the two of you dating.
"so you've been besties for twelve years and suddenly you're dating? no warning, no nothing? not very believable", answered mingyu, staring at you in nothing short of annoyance.
"why is this so surprising? you guys knew that i had a crush on her," argued vernon, feeling a bit annoyed at the way all his friends were currently staring him down. meanwhile, you appeared to be completely chill as you nuzzled into his side, watching videos on his phone and ignoring the conversation altogether.
"i just don't buy it."
"yeah, i don't get the joke, but i'm not falling for it."
"she's out of your league anyway."
seungkwan, seungcheol and jeonghan all expressed their sentiments to vernon as he groaned in frustration, unable to understand why it was so difficult to accept that he had finally grown the balls to ask you out. alas, he gave up as his friends grew distracted by something else, opting to go back to watching cat videos with you on his phone.
this was a brand new change in your dynamic, so maybe it'd be hard to grasp at first. but it was fine. vernon didn't need his friends to acknowledge his relationship in order to make it real. he'd simply continue to love on you like he'd been doing since you accepted to be his girlfriend, damning any denials from his friends.
~
acting unaffected by his friends' constant refutals of his new relationship proved to be harder than vernon had first anticipated. they'd gone above and beyond to attempt and disprove your relationship, claiming that it simply didn't make any sense.
any time you posted a picture with vernon it'd get spammed with comments from all twelve boys declaring the falsehood of your relationship.
jeonghanieyoon: booo đ
joshuacoustic: drop the fake bf and date me instead đ
dk_is_dokyeom: ok u guys are starting to look believable đ§
sometimes they'd even respond to vernon's stories about you and slide in his dms just to call him a dumbass for attempting to make this 'a thing' when it was clear you two were lying.
from: pledisboos - stop being a coward and ask her out for real
from: feat.dino - clearly fake. try harder next time!
in retrospect, maybe vernon only had himself to blame for this. after years of liking you, he never once gave any indication of attempting to leave the friendzone. his friends had all given up on hyping him up to confess to you years ago, leaving his crush as a dormant subject of conversation. it was quite sudden how you and vernon ended up together, and your dynamic hadnt changed too much, so your upgrade from friends to lovers was likely not noticeable to the naked eye.
however, this did not excuse the damned booing vernon had to endure any time the two of you walked into a room hand-in-hand. it also did not excuse jeonghan and mingyu's continuous flirting with you â they were doing it to prove a point, they said. and the most frustrating aspect of it all was how nonchalant you were about it all, always giggling along with his friends and never backing vernon up when he'd try and argue with them.
this was quite out of character for vernon. his demeanor had always been extremely chill and laid back, never one to be bothered by any outside forces (much less his dumb friends). you, however, were not helping manners in any way. you found the whole situation funny, telling vernon not to stress over it as you giggled over how passionate both vernon and his friends were about such a benign subject.
so, vernon gave up. he guessed that since you found the running gag about your 'fake' relationship amusing rather than frustrating (as he did), then he would just leave it alone. he was never one for pda anyways, so attempting to prove his relationship to his friends was kind of like beating a dead horse.
what vernon forgot to consider, however, was how nosy his friends were.
when it was time for all fourteen of you to spend the week at mingyu's beach house, he had let his guard down far too much, leading to a situation he'd like to consider both a win and a loss.
despite the sheer size of the beach house, housing fourteen people proved to be quite a difficult task, meaning that roommates were a must. with six rooms, everyone was separated into twos, with two rooms containing one extra roommate each. you and vernon always paired up together with no questions asked, except this time you were teased and mocked as you settled into your rooms, all while they assigned you chan as an extra roommate with the sarcastic intent of him keeping an eye on the two of you â "just want to make sure you don't get down to any funny business," had sad dokyeom in a mocking tone.
it was quite common for everyone but vernon to go out and play some badminton or basketball during these types of outings. he just wasnt a sports guy, and he was well loved despite his lack of participation. you'd occasionally join the guys, but would mostly hang back with vernon, which was what happened this time around. usually, you'd simply lounge around and watch a movie, but now that you were finally together, vernon decided to make better use of your alone time.
"are you sure we should be doing this?", you pulled away with a heavy breath, tilting your head back so vernon's lips could trail down your neck.
"it's fine, baby. they're all busy. they don't even believe we're dating, so they probably just think we're watching a movie," he explained as his hands attempted to get you to sit on his lap.
you didn't seem to need convincing as you slid over onto his lap, allowing his hands to guide your hips against his own. even through the pajamas you were wearing, he was sure you could feel his hardness under you.
"fuck, you're so fucking warm," he murmured as his hands went under your shirt, feeling up your warm skin and throwing it off in the process.
his lips went back to yours, groaning against you as your hips sped up against his own. easily frustrated, he laid you down, bringing down his pants and boxers to his mid thigh and leaving you in just your panties, adjusting his hardness so it'd grind itself perfectly against your clothed folds. the wetness seeping from your panties drove him insane with desire, but he couldn't stop grinding into you, growing easily obsessed with the stimulation. his lips had made their way back to your own, groaning endlessly against them while your hands pulled at his hair in a way that made his eyes cross.
"hmm, nonnie ..." you'd murmur every so often, making his resolve break little by little.
"fuck, is this okay, baby? just- wanna make you cum like this. i'll fuck you, i promise. just feel so fucking good like this," he groaned as you licked into his mouth, refusing to entertain any amount of separation.
eventually he reached down to your tits, tonguing at them like a starved man in search of his next meal. he was shameless in his desire for you, having wanted you for far too long and finally having you all to himself. no other thought occupied his mind at the moment. the touch and sight of your pretty body under his own was all his brain had the capacity of entertaining.
which was how neither of you noticed the boy suddenly intruding the scene, screaming in absolute shock at the nasty sight in front of him.
"oh my god?! you weren't lying?!"
what was even more unfortunate was how chan's yelling immediately alerted the rest of the members (or at least the nosier ones), leading to the door being filled by about seven spectators within seconds.
the only fortunate thing about the situation had been how fast vernon's protective instincts over you took over, covering you up with a blanket the moment he saw chan enter the room, preventing all the nosy men from having a peek at the nudity only vernon was allowed to see (and apparently chan too, as vernon had not noticed his presence until after the fact).
however, even as he covered you up, he left himself completely bare, having to take on all their shocked commentary whilst fully nude, barely able to pull up his boxers a few moments into their intrusion.
"no way, you're actually dating?!"
"either that or they took this joke a little far ..."
"man, channie's gonna be jacking off to this for ages."
"how the fuck did you score her??"
"do you guys want a third?"
these were only a few of the comments thrown at you and vernon within the first twenty seconds of the guys' presence in your room. however, to vernon it felt like a whole hour of scrutiny before he finally shook the shock off and began yelling at them to leave.
"get the fuck out! and never look at my girlfriend again!", he got up and began pushing them out as a few of them giggled at his anger whilst some others remained in shock at the situation.
in the meantime, you had pulled up the blanket over your head as you sat crisscross on the bed, likely too bashful to face the situation until your friends took their leave.
once vernon closed and locked the door, grabbing a pillow and throwing it outside for chan (who would not be allowed back in, by the way), vernon sped to your side, uncovering you, fully worried that you might be mad or petrified at what had just happened. to his surprise, you began laughing the moment you first made eye contact, causing vernon to furrow his eyebrows in question.
"baby, what the fuck? you find this funny?", he wasn't mad, but more so extremely confused.
"you got want you wanted, nonnie. there's no way to deny we're dating now," you grinned, crawling to sit on his lap again.
"god, i take it back. i'll never be able to fuck you again in peace. i was just about to cum, too."
"'was'?", you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning in closer, "you don't wanna anymore?", you tilted your head in fake curiosity.
"i mean-"
"they already know we're fucking. might as well have fun with it. right, nonnie?", you grinned.
chuckling at you, he couldn't help but agree with your horny logic. his boner was still half-there anyways.
"c'mere, baby."
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen#svt#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt oneshot#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#vernon imagines#vernon scenarios#vernon fanfic#vernon smut#vernon x reader
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RIDICULOUS â L.N
in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldnât be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.
warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint
lando was infatuated the moment he met you.
it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.
his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.
he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.
carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.
heâd jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.
you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldnât help but pity and adore.
he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personalityâs you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him â as did you.
since joining ferarri you didnât see the brit as much as youâd like, not that carlosâ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didnât feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.
but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you werenât oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.
his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didnât think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.
he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.
âhe begged me to invite you tonight,â carlosâ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadnât caught up with in a while.
melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.
landoâs eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence â not giving you a chance to speak.
âi was making sure you hadnât forgotten anyone, y/n included.â lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.
âiâd like to think my presence would be a given,â you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.
âof course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure youâd be here.â carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasnât attempting to stir the pot.
âhe misses you,â an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.
âmhm, misses me. not carlos.â you grinned; practically bragged â nudging carlos this time; youâd grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.
heâd nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didnât seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldnât be any closer to the truth.
âif you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,â carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea â oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.
lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. whatâs so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.
he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.
âwouldnât want to hurt your feelings, know you donât like to be left out.â lando mused; earning another laugh from you â one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.
âoh iâd be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.â carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way landoâs smile fell and jaw tensed â quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.
your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlosâ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash â completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasnât much to defend.
because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.
âhow much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?â you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.
âitâs just a joke?â heâd asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasnât on carlosâ side of the garage, always working on landoâs side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.
âobviously.â you spoke as if it wasâŠobvious, and the laugh you let out wouldâve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.
âah, ah, ah. donât forget about silverstone.â carlos simply couldnât keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.
which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadnât. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didnât even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that âlandoâs wish had finally come true.â
âdonât be ridiculous.â you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. landoâs silence wouldâve been deafening if others werenât jumping in to speak, and maybe you wouldâve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.
he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.
âitâs not ridiculous.â carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasnât ridiculous, he didnât think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.
âit is.â the nail in the coffin, lando couldnât keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadnât left your face. âcome on now,â you added in exaggeration at carlosâ unconvinced face.
lando wasnât sure what you said next, he didnât want to hear it. he couldnât figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself â something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.
the abrupt departure didnât halt anyone elseâs movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on landoâs full glass ahead of you.
he didnât need another drink.
you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.
it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldnât figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.
âiâll be back,â you excused yourself, standing up and following in landoâs directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.
you werenât sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.
ârude to not offer a girl a drink you know?â
landoâs eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.
he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.
âapologises,â he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.
âyou good?â you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.
you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.
âpeachy.â his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasnât laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive â and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.
âdid i say somethingâ did carlos say something?â the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. âiâve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, itâs stupid i know.â you began to ramble.
lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadnât said anything.
but you had.
âitâs not the jokes,â lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.
he couldnât. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.
you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression heâd keep speaking. but he didnât. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.
âno?â you hummed; eyebrows raising. âbecause i totally get if it is. itâs ridiculous how they keep going onââ you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.
so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.
there was that word again; ridiculous.
âis it? is it really that ridiculous?â lando couldnât stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.
it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.
âis what?â you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.
but lando had nothing else to lose, youâve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. whatâs once more?
âus. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?â lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.
because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times heâs almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.
maybe if he had youâd see what he saw.
silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than heâd like to admit. he couldâve sworn youâd been flirting with him that night.
he even thought it wouldâve been the start of something.
optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe youâd reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.
but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?
âwhat?â it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.
lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.
âitâs notâ weâve neverâ i mean it would be weird.â word vomit, you didnât know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence youâd be haunted by that very sentence. ânot weirdâ but,â you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.
another laugh from him beat you to it however.
âridiculous. i got it,â lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.
you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what heâd just told you. you hadnât ever looked at him in that way. he was always just⊠lando.
âlandoâŠâ you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.
the awkward tension was growing quickly and youâd never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.
âitâs fine. just drop it.â lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didnât want you to feel bad, heâd accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.
you canât apologise for how you feel.
âno we should talk about it,â you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didnât need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how heâd spent years pining over you.
heâd kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.
âiâll pass,â lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. âiâm gonna head up,â he cleared his throat.
youâd gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.
it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.
youâve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet youâd spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.
you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.
an insight into his intentions for the effort heâd put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadnât assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.
youâd be lying if you didnât have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didnât feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.
suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didnât make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.
you didnât want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.
not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon â claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.
thereâs no way you felt the same. surely not.
you had to stand by what you said. itâd be weird?
he was lando. annoying lando who couldnât grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.
except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. youâd both changed. lando had changed.
you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.
you suddenly felt insane. youâd never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, oneâs you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrariâs hospitality.
you could only hide for so long, carlos had won â which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.
work was your priority however, but you couldnât help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldnât help but note how lando was practically glowing.
your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.
you couldnât exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldnât be in attendance.
but he was, and your eyes hadnât left him all night.
still having not spoken for days, you couldnât shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didnât trust yourself. fearing youâd say something youâd regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.
ïżŒhowever you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.
it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadnât locked eyes with you there was a high chance you wouldâve backed out. turned around and walked away.
instead you were left to improvise.
âgood job today,â you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.
lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. heâd put it on the podium, why wouldnât he be in a good mood?
âthank you,â the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.
your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?
âimpressive from carlos,â lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact heâd saved you from creating an awkward silence.
âyeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. iâll never complain about pain again.â you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.
to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.
âlook i just wantedââ you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to landoâs side, handing him a drink while doing so.
it shouldnât have shut you up so quickly, but it did â eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one youâd never seen before actually.
âline was long,â the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught landoâs sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.
he would be lying if he said he didnât appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde heâd just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.
âiâll um, iâll talk to you later.â there was no way youâd try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, youâd hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.
instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.
embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.
apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didnât. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.
it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, thatâs what you gathered at least, and youâd been unaware for years.
youâd been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.
although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl whoâd placed the drink in his hands.
it suddenly made sense why you hadnât seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.
which you couldnât help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.
you didnât want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.
were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you werenât sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago youâd laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.
what was it they said about you only want what you canât have?
âit should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after iâve won.â carlosâ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.
âiâm not moping.â you huffed, leaning back in your seat â attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.
âyou have been all week.â carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.
âiâm sorryâ thatâs the last thing you need with the couple weeks youâve had,â you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldnât do anything right.
you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.
âdonât apologise.â carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. âiâm assuming lando said something.â
there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.
you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.
âyou knew?â you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.
âeveryone does.â carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time youâve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.
âwhy wouldnât you tell me?â you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.
âi thought you knew.â carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldnât question him â nor blame him. you shouldnât have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, youâre not sure what you wouldâve done if you did know.
because it wasnât like you were handling the current situation very well.
you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you shouldâve never chased him to the bar.
âheâll be fine. look at him, moving on already,â carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach â because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasnât what you wanted.
you didnât want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.
âi need air.â you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.
the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourneâs night life filled your ears.
it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.
but with every passing second you didnât find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldnât want him. you havenât wanted him before. it isnât fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.
but it was the reality. youâd been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasnât weird. it sounded fucking incredible.
the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasnât till they spoke that you tensed up.
âitâs cold out here,â his voice was instantly recognisable, you didnât need to look at him to know it was him.
âtoo hot in there.â you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.
falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace youâd known all week.
âwe can pretend the other night never happened. i donât want things to be weird.â lando spoke, words so soft as if youâd break. as if he needed to be careful with you.
his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldnât be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.
you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. itâs all you needed to do.
but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.
âif thatâs what you want,â you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldnât find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.
it was landoâs turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.
âi just want to know why itâs so ridiculous to you.â lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldnât say it ever if he didnât now. itâd been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.
and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didnât have one.
âi donât know.â you answered truthfully. âi never looked at you that way lando iâŠâ you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. âyou were like this little kid, i donât know,â you struggled to articulate your thoughts.
âyeah five years ago,â landoâs response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didnât lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if heâd been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.
youâd gulped at his words, because he was right and youâd only come to terms with such thing these past few days.
âyeah.â you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. youâd been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldnât dare look away from his eyes.
you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.
he recognised the look on your face, purely because itâs how he would always look at you.
âit fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.â lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didnât need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter youâd be worried you wouldnât hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.
you didnât know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame â and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.
âmâ sorry,â you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didnât want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.
it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.
you didnât know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.
the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.
but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldnât risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.
âif you donâtââ lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.
thankfully however you didnât give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you â reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.
it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants â hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.
it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?
your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life â large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.
so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.
naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.
suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.
heaven was the only way to describe it.
but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.
your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you werenât sure the pair of you were even noticed.
landoâs grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.
âwe should get out of here,â you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.
the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.
the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi â kissing him was addictive, thatâs the only thing you could think of right now.
the silence wasnât awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.
it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again â lips once more reconnected.
the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.
you werenât even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.
but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent â all senses consumed with the man in front of you.
you werenât sure which wall heâd backed you against but you didnât care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more â taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.
he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.
âwhat do you want?â landoâs question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.
you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.
him. just him. anything he had to offer.
the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.
the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance â yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.
âanything.â you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadnât realised how desperate you sounded. you werenât sure youâve ever sounded so needy.
âgotta be more specific pretty,â his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.
the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasnât natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.
âwant me to touch you?â lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him â and the mere act had you falling further into submission.
it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing â standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; heâd barely touched you yet.
âwhat do you want?â your words were no where near as confident as his, but you werenât complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.
you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.
âwant to ruin you so youâll only ever think of me if another man touches you.â lando was honest with his answer, you hadnât expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak â the idea sounding perfect to you.
but he wasnât finished.
âwant you to cum on my fingers.â he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. âthen my tongue,â he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.
thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.
âthen my cock.â he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.
attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.
âhm?â his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.
âplease,â you practically whimpered, god youâd get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.
the man couldnât believe his eyes, a sight heâd dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.
his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.
light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours â but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.
you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan â hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldnât give out on you.
lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut â head falling back against the wall.
âyouâre soaked baby,â his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.
âfor you,â you breathed out â not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.
for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasnât so focused on getting you off heâd be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.
suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing landoâs pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.
his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again â nothing would compare to that.
âlook at me.â landoâs demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldnât act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.
landoâs breathy laugh wasnât enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.
his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.
the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.
it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly â eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.
âclose,â was all you managed out; landoâs nod was in sync with his curled fingers â your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.
you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.
âlet go baby,â his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.
lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldnât fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised heâd been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends â and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.
admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.
âyouâre incredible,â lando couldnât stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.
however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it â not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.
âyou are.â you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle â sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.
your legs already felt like jelly.
heâd read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs â halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.
your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.
messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.
the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed â you quickly felt overdressed.
your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.
you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.
he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.
âyouâre fucking beautiful.â heâd practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.
âwant to make you feel good,â you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip â the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.
heâd shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing â left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.
âi feel amazing,â lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking â your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.
he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache â offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.
he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties â having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.
âlando,â youâd whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. âplease,â the plea left you in desperation.
you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.
âoh baby,â he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. âneedy little thing,â he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldnât argue, only pout.
he wasnât wrong, much to your surprise. youâd never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.
ânot gonna make you beg,â lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.
you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly â hands flying to find his curls again.
pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head â body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.
your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.
he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses â tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.
you werenât ever sure youâd be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out â pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.
you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs â watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.
his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.
you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more â seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.
it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didnât take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.
âyou good?â landoâs voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.
âperfect,â you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way landoâs hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.
you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now â it didnât take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.
climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.
lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief heâd been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.
he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.
fuck you could get used to that image.
âcome on baby,â lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips â guiding them upwards ever so slightly. âfuck yourself on my cock yeah?â there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.
your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.
the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.
you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size â and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.
âyou feel fucking incredible,â the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.
âso big,â you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving â eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.
the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasnât the first time between the pair of you.
your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, landoâs hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you â letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.
âfuck lando,â you whined when heâd bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling â the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.
âdoing so good for me gorgeous,â his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.
it wasnât long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didnât need to say anything â a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.
you hadnât thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didnât relent as he started fucking up into you.
you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldnât keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.
âfuck lando fuck,â you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldnât comprehend any of it.
âtake it baby.â he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if youâd ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin â his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldnât have time to feel every inch of him.
your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him â which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.
but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.
âopen your eyes princess,â he practically demanded, and at this point youâd do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.
his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing â but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.
âwhoâs making you feel this good?â landoâs question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.
âyou, lando, you,â you whined out in response â and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. âfeels so good,â you told him â squeezing him as you did so.
heâd groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didnât, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.
âwant to cum again yeah? that you want?â his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.
his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.
âwanna hear you say it,â lando grumbled â head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention heâd paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.
you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as heâd like â so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.
âtoo fucked out to form words baby?â lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. âwant to hear you say it.â he repeated, eyes piercing yours.
âwannaâ cum again,â your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. âplease let me cum,â
the british driverâs hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear youâd done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.
your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick â practically screaming his name as you did so.
lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more â only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.
you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.
his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.
both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.
you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.
he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a âwhat now.â
this meant a lot to him, he wouldnât put that on you â that wouldnât be fair. but you already had a good idea.
âi was wrong.â you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.
he didnât fully understand.
âabout this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.â you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you â shaking his head quickly.
âwe donât have to talk about it right now,â he assured in certainty. he didnât want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.
which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful â which shouldnât be a surprise.
âiâm not promising anything,â you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didnât feel obligated at all. you werenât saying youâd be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. âbut i was wrong.â you hummed.
a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.
one you could certainly get used too.
ââ
a/n: 615 days later and iâve finally finished another fic. hope yâall r still there đđ
incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u
anyways i donât love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping itâll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that itâs a little rusty đ«¶đŒđ«¶đŒ
what hasnât changed is that itâs currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe
as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo
#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#x reader#f1#lando norris angst#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#f1 angst#f1 one shot#lando norris#lando norris imagine
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đđđă»h.h.
â volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.
wordsă»15.2k
pairingă»volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)
genresă»college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!
warningsă»mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.
playlistă»collision by stray kidsă»value by adoă»waiting for us by stray kidsă»eternity by bang chană»dreaming by smallpoolsă»fly high!! by burnout syndromes
a/nă»writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved âĄ
âNot a word out of you,â you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. âIâm serious.â
Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. âWhen did people stop saying good morning?â
Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.
âLook at me.â
âNo.â
âLook at me.â
âNo.â
âPlease, angel.â
âNo! Leave me alone.â
Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. âCoffee on me for a week.â
At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you.Â
When you finally humor him and turn around, youâre flinching like youâre in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He couldâve counted your eyelashes if he wasnât so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.
âWhat the hell did you do?â
âTried to cut my own bangs,â you sigh. âIt didnât go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.â
Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. âYouâve seen Naruto?â
You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when heâs staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.
The air between you curdles like sour milk.
Things are awkward between you often, heâs realized recently. Whatâs more, he didnât think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailorâs knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh youâve given him since. Maybe thereâs more to it, maybe there isnâtâHyunjin doesnât think about it much. He doesnât like thinking in general.
You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere.Â
âOf course Iâve seen Naruto,â you quip, and everything is normal again. âWhy do you seem surprised?â
âBecause youâre so scholarly.â
âI am not scholarly.â
He raises an eyebrow. âYou go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.â
âI need to get my steps in somehow.â
âYou didnât know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look upââ
âGod, I learned so much about you that day."
âYour favorite social media platform is Quizlet,â he bursts, exasperated. âQuizlet.â
âIt is not.â An introspective pause. âOr is it?â
âI wouldnât be surprised.â Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. âThere is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I donât buy it.â
âHonestly, I thought youâd have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.â
He does, though. Matter of fact, heâs been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorerâs hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.
But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. Heâs reminded that itâs hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.
He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.
âWatermelon,â he mumbles with a sickening smile.
You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. âYouâre getting soft.â
He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.
âI only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,â you say as youâre strolling out the building together, âand I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?â
âYour faith gets me out of bed in the morning,â Hyunjin deadpans. âIâll handle it, love. Text me your order.â
All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that heâd recognize anywhere.
âBody flicker jutsu,â you whisper, and then youâre scurrying off without another wordâbut you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quadâs busy thrum.
Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.
âHwang, I need you in my office.â
Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the courtâs sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.
âDonât look at me,â Minho says mid-stretch. âGodspeed.â
âThanks, cap.â Useless.
Head volleyball coach Christopher Bangâs workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. Itâs all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the manâs propensity for violence. Heâs packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.
Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. âYou can read, right?â
âYes, coach,â he sighs. Everyoneâs expectations for him are subterranean.
From: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» To: Bang âChristopherâ Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Not good See email from Hwangâs antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now heâs failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad
Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. âWrong email.â
âYep.â
From: Kim Kyeyoung «[email protected]» To: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kidsâ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology
âThatâs bullshit!â
âWeâre in agreement there.â Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. âDo you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?â
âDoes anyone?â Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. âNo way you just had that.â
âI had it delivered ten minutes ago,â Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. âAll student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.â
Hyunjin stiffens. âWhat the fuck? Iâve never heardââ
âIf any Department of Athletics personnel,â Bang continues, raising his voice, âhave reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.â
He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. âRead that name aloud for me.â
Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.
âHwang Hyunjin,â he says under his breath.
The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.
Then comes the yelling.
âThe Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?â
âIt was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! Howâs that for anthropology?â
âBAD!â Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. âVERY, VERY BAD!â
Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.
âYouâve never had trouble with school before.â He leans over his desk imposingly. âWhat the hell happened this semester? What changed?â
Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjinâs pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists havenât discovered yet.
He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.
âBeats me,â he fibs. âTypical junior year stress, maybe.â
âDoes any of it have to do with Piazza?âÂ
Hyunjin shudders.
It just might, actually.
Modesty has no place in the career heâs had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Koreaâs imminent volleyball revolution. Itâs a mouthful, he knows.
It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.
At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the worldâand current home to Hyunjinâs personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.
Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didnât ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.
Piazza replied within the week.
For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the teamâs social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazzaâs emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.
But thatâs the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because heâs laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldnât care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you canât contain your excitement. You, you, you.
He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. âYou know how I feel about Piazza.â
âExpect the worst, hope for the best.â Bangâs chair skids backwards as he stands up. âI think itâs a good approach.â
Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.
âBut hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,â he says. âDo not let it, Hyunjin. Iâm not asking.â
Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin canât help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.
Bang lets go of him. âIâm not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.â
Hyunjin groans. âYeah, yeah. Iâm on it.â
A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.
âI thought you said your order was complicated.â
You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.
âWas it not?â You ask.
âIt was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.â
âWell, I wasnât sure if you could handle that much.â He flips you off as you squint at the cup. âSomeone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.â
âWhat? Really?â
âNo.â
He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; youâre still cackling by the time youâve straightened up again.
âWhy did you get this, anyway?â Hyunjin grumbles. âI thought you had a sweet tooth.â
âI do, but you donât.â
Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.
âThanks,â he says at last. âNice of you.â
âI know, right? Hated it,â you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.
You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjinâs direction. âYo.â
Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. âI fully forgot you were in this class.â
âWell, Iâm due for my weekly appearance.â Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. âHey, Y/N.â
âHi,â you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.
You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the âI would relinquish all of my rights for youâ way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. Heâs funny, gorgeous, and talentedâa vocal performance major with a student-athlete contractâand you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks itâs hilarious.
You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. Youâre met with something far more worrisome.
Heâs thinking.
That canât be good.
Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. âCan this guy do his fucking job?â
âHe wouldnât have to if you didnât quit,â Seungmin answers. âIâll never forget you, Manager Hwang.â
âShut up.â You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. âOur captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League ruleâSeung, why do you look morose?â
âIâm mourning.â Seungmin does look morose indeed. âHyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.â
Hyunjin slides down his seat. âIt was the worst experience of my life.â
Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. âCan I ask why?â
âHe had to be responsible,â Seungmin whispers. âFor other people.â
The top of Hyunjinâs head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. âPoor thing.â
âHardass refused to do it again this year, so now weâre recruiting.â Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. âI donât suppose you have four hours to spare every day.â
Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. âThis one? Team manager?â
âI can see it.â
âI can see killing myself, maybe.â
The next time you reach for him is to hit his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall. Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.
âSeems like a great candidate to me,â Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, itâs pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.
Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. âI miss when you didnât come to class, Seungmin.â
Eighty minutes later, youâve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.
âSorry.â He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. âI couldnât unsee it.â
You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.
Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.
âI didnât like that at all,â you say.
âI donât care. I have something to tell you.â
âYou have a kid, donât you?â
âWhaâhuh? Who do you think I am?â
âThe one-night-standâs poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.â
âYeah, contraception industry. Itâs right there in the name.â
You canât argue with that. âWhat do you have to tell me?â
A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjinâs face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that youâre about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you shouldâve saved the secret son bit for another time.
âIâm failing anthro.â
So much for a serious conversation.Â
âCome again?â
He repeats the mystifying statement.
âYouâre joking.â The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. âYouâre failing anthro?â
âI just said that, yes.â
âYouâre failing anthropology?â
âMhm.â
âJust so weâre clearâyouâre failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?â
âYes. Iâm glad youâre having fun.â
This is the best day of your life. âI didnât even know that was possible.â
âYeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,â he mutters.
âWhat?â
âNothing.â Hyunjin clears his throat. âAnyways, I was thinkingââ
âWow! Congratulations. Thatâs a bigâoomfââ
Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.
âI was thinking,â he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, âyou and I can work out some kind of deal.â
You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. âI think I just ate some athletic tape.â
âHappens. You wanna hear the deal or not?â
âDoes it involve ingesting more sports equipment?â
âDo you want it to?â
âJust tell me the deal, boy.â
âAlright.â He takes a deep breath. âIf you help me pass this class, Iâll set you up with Seungmin.â
Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: âIâm gonna need you to elaborate.â
âOn which part?â
âAll of them. Everything.â
Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. âAre you hungry?â
You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think itâs the prime minister youâre about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.
Heâs chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they donât know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that heâs drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager youâve had better company.
âYou like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.â He traces over the wrapperâs left corner. âAnd I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?â
âYes, definitely,â you mumble around a mouthful of bread. âGo on.â
âConclusion one: you should be my tutor.â He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. âYou also like my teammate, but heâs neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold ofâfor most people.â
âLet me guess. Not for you.â
âTen points to Ravenclaw.â His British accent is nightmarish. âSeung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.â
âTo dinner or to practice?â
âTo both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusionââ
He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.
ââyou should manage our team.â
âI knew it!â You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. âYouâre trying to swindle me! You canât pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?â
âItâs not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didnât do shit!â
âYeah? Who was your last manager?â
âMe!â
Oh, right. âBut you hated it!â
âI hate everything that isnât playing volleyball. Try again.â
You fold your arms over your chest. âYou said youâd kill yourself if I managed you.â
Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. âItâs true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seungâsââ
âSTOP!â A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. âStop right there. I get it. Stop.â
âItâs a good plan.â He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. âYou know it is.â
Youâre loath to admit that you do. âWhen did you even come up with all this?â
He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder heâs failing.
âWhat is this, mock trial?â
The owner of this voice is the third man youâve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighborâs cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. Thereâs a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like heâs enjoying the company of a court jester.
âSlamming tables like fuckinâ tariff lawyers,â the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjinâs direction. âI could see it from all the way inside.â
âCaptain!â Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. âJust the man I was hoping to see.â
âReally? I thought youâd be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.â
âI would never.â
âYou did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.â He pauses for emphasis. âAs fast as possible.â
âWell, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.â Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. âAnd today, I bring you a new team manager.â
You stiffen. âI havenâtââ
âIs that so!â When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. âMusic to my ears. Whatâs your name, cutie?â
You catch Hyunjinâs eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungminâsâ
Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.
âY/N,â you grumble. âIâm looking forward to working with you.â
He shakes on it heartily. âLikewise. Iâm Minho. Welcome to the team.â
âYes, welcome to the team,â Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.
Heâs lucky that his proposal holds so much water. Heâs lucky that you donât plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.
You do kick him under the table, though.
The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You canât tell which is the bigger endeavor.
âIâm going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,â you tell Changbin.
The teamâs libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the universityâs sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and youâve already decided heâs the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.
âYou will not,â Changbin answers. âOne, because this wonât involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldnât ask you to help if it did.â
âYouâve misunderstood me,â you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. âI want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.â
âOh.â He opens the door with a frown. âOh dear.â
Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.
âI am going to get maimed,â Hyunjin tells Changbin.
âHave some faith, both of you,â Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages youâre looking for and begin poring over them like youâre cramming for an exam. âYouâll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.â
âStudied?â He repeats. âFor this?â
âIâm pretty sure Quizlets were made.â
âThree, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. âNow tape me.â
Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. âSee? What could go wrong?â
The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly âsprained his ass,â leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.
You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypressâlaundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesnât wear that insufferable cologne to practice.
âGo easy on me, yeah?â
While Hyunjinâs tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.
âI canât promise anything.â
With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.
A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. Itâs the first time youâve seen his fingers untaped; theyâre pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.
Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.
âYouâre not nervous, are you?â
âNo. Maybe a little.â You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. âFine, yes. Very.â
âBut you made Quizlets. Youâre prepared for anything.â
âThatâs what Iâm saying!â You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that heâs making fun of you. âI hate you.â
âActually,â he hums, âI think you care about me, love. Thatâs why youâre nervous.â
âNonsenseâI care about disappointing Changbin. Thatâs it.â
âAnd me. And hopping on Seungminâs dick. All these things donât have to be mutually exclusive.â
You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.
âHave you lost your mind?â You whisper-shout, your face on fire. âDonât bring that up here. Iâll maim you for real.â
The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you donât hate when that happens.
âMy bad, my bad. It slipped out. I wonâtââ
One incremental shift of Hyunjinâs body later, you find that youâre precariously, alarmingly close to one another.
So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath.Â
Things are awkward between you often, youâve realized recently. Youâre both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later youâll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.
Since youâve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. Youâre not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesnât go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as theyâre doing now.
Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.
âThank you,â he murmurs.
Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. âWhat for?â
He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.
âCaring about me.â
Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.
âNow stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.â
âOkay,â you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. âNo need to get violent.â
It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.
As youâre walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. âItâs not too tight, is it?â
âItâs perfect.â He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. âWant another taste?â
You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. âYou are truly grotesque.â
The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.
The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.
You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.
Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ballâs tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.
âOi, this isnât your backyard! Go pick that up!â Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.
Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. âCrazy bitch. What the fuck was that?â
âLower and faster. Further from the net too,â Seungmin returns. âHowâd it feel?â
The grin on Hyunjinâs face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. âLike we just won everything.â
He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. Youâve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjinâand you canât move.
It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.
A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you.Â
âHello?â He immediately starts laughing. âWhere the fuck are you?â
You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. âMy face is preoccupied at the moment.â
âOh, you have to show me. Please.â
You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.
âMotherfucker!â
He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.
âThank you,â he says earnestly. âIâll treasure this forever.â
âYouâll be punished, Hwang.â
âDonât threaten me with a good time.â
You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle.Â
âAaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.â
The first thing you did as Hyunjinâs tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the âtruly piteous timbreâ of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.
âYou shouldâve opened with that.â
âI tried, hello? Someone distracted me!â
âRead. It. Before I change my mind.â
You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.
You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that itâs as if youâre leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.
Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldnât move for ten minutes.
With that, his attention span has run its course.
âBaby,â he interrupts gently. âLetâs stop here, okay? You seem tired.â
You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.
âI suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?â
âI think so. I hit my stride.â
âText me if you have questions, then. Iâll respond when I wake up.â
âOkay.â
âOkay.â
Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjinâs face incurably quickly.Â
âI had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.â
âWhy is that?â
âWell, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime youâd experienced since preschool.â
âIt really is.â
âYou also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.â
âI really would.â
âAnd you once referred to academia as âVirgin Village.ââ
âDidnât you come up with that?â
âNo, hello? I live in that village.â
He grins. âI know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.â
âFuck you.â
âAh, donât threaten me with a goodââ
âWhat Iâm trying to say is that I didnât think you would take this seriously, but Iâm happy to be proven wrong.â
Hyunjin leans back. âWell, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.â
âReally?â
âNo.â
You pretend to punch him through the screen. Itâs so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.
âBut I do give a fuck about you.â
Thereâs nothing crazy about the statement. Youâre friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didnât. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a starâs final breath. And Hyunjinâs heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.
He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.
Then he opens his texts.
Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Donât forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: đ«Ą
He picks you up at 7:53.
You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and heâs walking too close to your lawn.
âHis fault,â Hyunjin says before you start yelling.
Minho simpers at you through his open window. âHey, you! So glad you could join us!â
You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. âArenât you the captain? Why are you this late?â
âWhoa, okay. I wouldâve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.â
âYou did schedule it for earlier,â you say. âYou scheduled it for way earlier.â
âYeah, well, youâre fired.â
âYou canât fire me, Minho.â
âI can too. Tell âem, Hwang.â
âI want nothing to do with this.â
When you step through the doors of the arcade, youâre met with a surge of sensory input that you havenât experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that theyâve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.
âIâll go pay,â Hyunjin says. âHow much time do we want?â
âInfinity,â Minho answers. Hyunjin doesnât move. âTwo hours.â
He flashes him a thumbs-up. âAnd you?â
âIâm okay, I think.â
âNo youâre not,â the two men answer in perfect unison.
You glance between them warily. âI donât mind watching, seriously. I donât even know how most of these games workââ
âThereâs Tetris,â Hyunjin cuts in.
You purchase an hour.
One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU menâs volleyball team, not to bond them. Youâve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like itâs a shot. Itâs a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.
But theyâre happy. Youâve picked up on it when theyâre on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as theyâre eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that youâre glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so specialâespecially because thereâs Tetris.
âHave you ever considered going pro?â Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.
You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. Heâs been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.
You donât respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.
âI already did,â you finally answer.
âSorry, what? You played professional Tetris?â
âIn middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.â You pause. âThen I got bored again and switched to chess.â
âHow do you look like this with these hobbies?â
Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. âI think Iâm washed.â
He looks at you like youâve lost your mind. âYou just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.â
âItâs a small pond,â you say, and an idea occurs to you. âDo you wanna try?â
âI get the feeling I donât have a choice.â
âThen youâre smarter than you look.â
âWell, you lookââ
His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.
âWhat was that?â
âUgly. I said you look ugly.â He cracks his knuckles. âNow letâs break some fuckin' blocks.âÂ
When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade.Â
He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy princeâand heâs with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.
Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.
Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjinâs chair. You canât watch. You canât think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.
âSeung!â Thatâs Jisung, you think. âYou made it!â
âYo, sorry weâre late.â Thatâs Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. âDinner took longer than I thought.â
âMin, are you sure Iâm allowed to be here?â You donât know who this voice belongs to and youâre not sure you want to. âI feel like Iâm intrudingââ
âHwang,â you say suddenly. âI have to go.â
He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. âAlready?â
âI forgot I had an important call to make.â You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. âSorry. Iâll see you around.â
You have touched Hyunjinâs hands many times. Heâs asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment.Â
Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when itâs been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.
He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.
âDo you want to be alone?â
You have never been asked such a thingâyou have never asked to be asked such a thingâbut, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes.Â
âYes, please,â you whisper, and you pull your hand away.
When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting.Â
Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where youâve left your phone.
You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.
Hyunjinâs right; the team manager doesnât have to do much.
Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someoneâs waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything your schedule allows.Â
Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professorâs distinct âcabbage scent.â Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammatesâ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the teamâs water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.
Then came the arcade.
Five days have come and gone. You havenât attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. Youâve taken the best notes of your life. He doesnât mention the previous weekend; he doesnât mention much of anything.Â
In person, that is.
That Friday afternoon, youâre reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. Itâs from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.
Then you listen to it again.
And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.
As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you havenât the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.
Coach Bang is leaving the building just as youâre approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe itâs the shadowy landscape; more likely itâs the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.
âItâs been a while,â he greets.
âCoach,â you return, lowering your head. âI want to apologize forââ
âSave it,â he says, not unkindly. âThereâs nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.â
You manage a grateful smile. âIâll be back starting next week.â
âIâm glad to hear it.â He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. âI would give him some space, by the way.â
Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.
Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation.Â
Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when heâs picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where itâs plastered to his neck. Heâs alone.
You only catch sight of Hyunjinâs face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.
âI was told to give you space,â you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball heâs holding.
His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that theyâve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.
âIs this enough space?â
More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.
âDonât make me go further, please. Iâm not ready to die.â
Finally, this earns you a smile. Itâs not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.
The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You donât care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.
The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. Youâre worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.
Thereâs a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights.Â
âHow do you see under these things?â
âI donât,â he returns. âI complained about it to Coach once.â
âAnd?â
âHe made them brighter.â Sounds about right.
Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjinâs way with words.
But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. Itâs not that Hyunjin has a way with words; itâs that heâs brave enough to break the silences that you canât, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you wonât have to.
This cannot be his burden alone.
You inhale. âWhatâs on your mind?â
Hyunjin doesnât answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.
âI donât think I know how to put it into words.â
You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. âDonât think, just talk. Iâm here.â
The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.
âDo you remember Ishikawa Yuki?â
His role model.
âHeâs currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.â He blows out a deep breath. âIâve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.â
The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. âHoly shit, Hwang.â
âHe emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, heâs excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldnât wrap my head around anything. I still canât.
âI am who I am because of that man, and nowâŠI have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why Iâm notânot happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, heâhe wouldââ
You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.
Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.
You stop thinking after that.
You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.
You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.
âDonât fight it.â You trace over the hill of his cheek. âHealing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.â
His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.
âYou donât have to continue if you canât.â
âSâokay.â Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. âI want to.â
You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?
âI used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feetâI blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.â He smiles at the memory. âBut every time I came close to quitting, Iâd go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and Iâd promise myself it would be me on some other kidâs screen someday.
âThat kid would tell everyone whoâd listen about how cool I am. That Iâm a secret superhero. That Iâm living proof humans can fly if they really, really tryâjust like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.
âThe other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proudâeven if it meant losing myself.â He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. âThatâs whatâs on my mind.â
Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.
The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; itâs long overdue.
âEvery time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,â you say. âHe is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.â
Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.
âJeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,â you continue, âeven for things related to schoolâwhich I still find hard to believe, Iâm not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.
âI know you think he canât stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. Itâs written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. Youâre like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.â
âThen thereâs me.â You pause to catch your breath. âWhen I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didnât like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone elseâs personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.
âBut I found a person. Someone who wouldnât know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearlyâyour body is not normal, by the way.â
Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like youâre flying.
âDonât get me wrong,â you say. âYour sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when Iâm around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.â
The next time you blink, you discover that heâs not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?
âThereâs so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.â You give him a watery smile. âThat kid will be spoiled for choice.â
When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: âI knew you cared about me.â
You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.
âHow the fuck are you still sweaty?â You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.
Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.
A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like youâve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead.Â
Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.
âCan you come inside, please? My RA will think Iâm doing some freaky shit again.â
You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. âWhat, exactly, does freaky shit entail?â
He smirks as the door falls shut. âYou want me to tell you or show you?â
You turn to Kkami, disgusted. âYour ownerâs a bit of a pervert, my dear.â
Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjinâs eyes narrow to slits.
âTraitor.â
Naturally, Hyunjinâs parents chose the eve of his final anthropology examâand the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his careerâto ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration.Â
âDo you want anything to drink?â He calls from the kitchen area.
You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. âWhat do you have?âÂ
âAlcohol.â He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. âAmericanos.â
He stops speaking.
âIs that all?â
âYes. Waitâand apple juice.â
âYou are about to be a professional athlete.â
âWhat the Italians donât know wonât hurt them. You want apple juice, donât you? I can see it in your eyes.â
âMaybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.â
Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.
âLetâs get this over with.â
At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.
At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.
You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then heâs kicking open the door.
Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a monthâs worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.
âHyunâKkami?â Seungmin swivels. âYo, what the fuck isââ
Hyunjin is already out the door.
A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.
âWhat is this thing?â Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass.Â
âKkami gets sad after throwing up,â he sighs. âHis blanket makes him feel better.â
Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. âHe ate too fast again?â
Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. âI donât get it. Nobodyâs gonna take his food from him.â
Seungmin laughs. âI didnât even know he was on campus.â
âI picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for workâthey say hi, by the way.â
âI say hi back. I miss your momâs cooking.â
âMe too,â Hyunjin says, smiling. âShe would love to cook for you againâsheâs always saying youâre too skinny.â
âShe really is.â
A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.
Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of themâa concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjinâs backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjinâs dissuading; half of Hyunjinâs fatherâs wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.
It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the netâs fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungminâs hitterâSeungmin, always Hyunjinâs setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.
At least, thatâs what Hyunjin used to think.
Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know?Â
Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he canât remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not âtalkedâ as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practiceââtalkedâ as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.
Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago.Â
âYeonwoo, right?â
He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what heâs trying to doâand forgives him.
âYeonwoo,â Seungmin affirms. âWeâre in the same songwriting intensive this semester.â
âAlso a singer?â
He shakes his head. âPiano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I donât think Iâve ever met someone so talented.â
âWow, thatâsâhi, old man. You done?â
Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkamiâs head as he hydrates.
âYouâve suffered,â he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.
âAs I was sayingâthatâs crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.â
âThanks. Itâs weird. Iâm happy.â
âYou deserve it. You really do, Kim.â They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. âWhen are you introducing us?â
âThe arcade wasnât enough?â
âDonât insult me.â
âWhenever you want, then.â
âDinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,â Hyunjin recounts. âIâm holding you to it.â
âBet.â
They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasnât already reassured by Seungminâs smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that theyâll be okay.
âWhat about you?â Seungmin asks. âAre you together yet?â
Hyunjin knew this was coming. âWhat do you mean?â
âYou know what I mean.â Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. âSomeone you have questions for that youâre too scared to ask. Someone whoâs lived in your mind since the day you met. Thereâs someone like that, isnât there?â
Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek.Â
Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjinâs been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.
But then heâll get out of bed, and walk to that cafĂ© on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, heâll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And heâll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when heâs not keeping watch.
He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time youâre within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because heâs happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.
Itâs impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. Heâs already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?
Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. âThere is.â
Hyunjin doesnât know what to say.
âIt mightâve been me, at some point,â he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkamiâs ears. âBut it has always been you, Hyun.â
Four floors above them and inside Hyunjinâs place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkamiâs return.
Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all thatâs in front of you.
Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what mustâve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns districtâs first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of âace spikerâ label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang âChristopherâ Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. Thereâs oneâWho is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Koreaâs imminent volleyball revolutionâbeside which heâs written the singular word âmouthful.â You laugh; you agree.
But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.
You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as youâre playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you canât see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kimâs email. You, you, you.
You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didnât know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.
It has always been him.
The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes.Â
Itâs not awkward this time.
Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.
He moves his eyes to his best friendâs back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play theyâve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration.Â
He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.
The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjinâs heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. Heâs not scared at all.
He balls his fingers into fists.
âJUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACEââ
An arm seizes Hyunjinâs neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He canât feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesnât care. He doesnât care.
ââDEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEARââ
His eyes find Seungminâs among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungminâs gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.
He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.
ââYOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!â
Hyunjinâs post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.
The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: âIs there anyone youâd like to thank?â
Hyunjin exhales. âYou want the short answer or the longââ
Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.
âLove you,â he yells before hurrying off.Â
âLove you too, Bin.â
Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.
âThe short answer,â she deadpans.
He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his familyâhis first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys heâs ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.
In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. Thereâs a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.
Hyunjin thanks you.
You didnât ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and theyâre all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselvesâitâs hard to believe youâve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.
What are you like? What arenât you like, is the better question. Youâre caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sunâs doting radius, and so did he.
You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; youâre wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and theyâd be right.
Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.
âWhy the fuck am I still talking to you?âÂ
âPardon?â The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.
He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.
He calls out to you.
You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the areaâs busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but heâs used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.
Youâre beautiful. God, youâre fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like heâs everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will.Â
Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He couldâve counted your eyelashesâif he didnât have something far better to do.
âTell me now if you donât want me to do this,â he whispers.
A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. âMy lips are sealed.â
Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before theyâre colliding again.
He kisses you until heâs crying, again, until heâs no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and heâs really won everything, now.
âHwang, I need you in my office.â
Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.
âI know nothing,â Seungmin says, walking away. âGood luck!â
âThanks, cap.â Hyunjin swears heâs had this exact exchange before.
Head volleyball coach Christopher Bangâs workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.
Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. âRead.â
From: Nicola Daldello «[email protected]» To: Bang âChristopherâ Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwangâs travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. Iâm looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano
âI told you, some opportunities just present themselves,â Bang says, turning his monitor back around. âAs for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social evâHwang, is that foam coming out of your moâNOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!â
In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baekâs king with a triumphant yelp.
âI knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!â She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. âYou! Get over here. Your reign is over.â
You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldnât even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.
âAs excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,â you call back.Â
She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.
Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Whoâs our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?
Heâll be here in eight minutes.
You return to the task at hand. Youâve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all thatâs left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely youâll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.
Instead of hitting the âdeleteâ button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.
You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.
He finds you a sobbing mess.
âHey, hey, whoa.â Heâs on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. âBaby, whatâs happening? Are you okay?â
âYes,â you say in a flustered haste. âYes, Iâm okay. I donâtâI donât really know whatâs happening.â
âDid that hag do this to you?â He asks this question so seriously. âIâll beat up a senior citizen, I donât give a fuckââ
âNo!â You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. âNo, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.â
âThen what is it? Whatâs wrong?â
Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.
Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.
âIâll tell you later,â you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline.Â
He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then youâre smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.
You rest your foreheads together. âHave I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?â
He smiles. âDoes that make you my flower, then?â
âBecause youâre irresistably drawn to me?â
âNo, because I wanna put my pollen inââ
You shove him away. âYou are grotesque.â
He returns in a flash. âYou love me.â
You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.
âWhy did Coach hold you back, by the way?â You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. âAre you in trouble again?â
âNo, no. The opposite, actually.â
Your brow furrows. âThe opposite? Whatââ
âIn this lifetime, please,â Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.
âDuty calls, my love.â
âTell me your thing later too?â
âOf course.â
You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, ânow watch me beat up a senior citizen.â
He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.
âHypocrite.â
Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]
This is my seventh take and Iâm not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I donât care anymore.
I understand if you donât wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldnât, either. I just wanted to say that you donât have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I wonât be able to fulfill my end of our deal, soâŠyeah, it wouldnât be fair to you. Youâve already done so much for us. For me.
As for team manager, youâll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesnât sound like a fun conversation, I knowâbut if thatâs what you decide, Iâll have your back. They donât scare me. Well, they do. But only sometimes.
Youâve beenâŠdistant, this week. Iâve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldnât care less if youâre my tutor or my team manager or whateverâI just donât want you to be a stranger. Maybe thatâs selfish of me to say, but Iâm tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesnât terrify me. It does. It really fucking does.
Iâm gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and Iâll genuinely commit homicide if I have to do all this again. Sorry that this got so long, andâŠIâm sorry about everything. You deserve better.
Come back to me whenever youâre ready, okay? Iâll be waiting.
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#hyunjin x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#hyunjin imagines#skz x reader#stray kids scenarios#k-labels#skz imagines#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#hyunjin fluff#skz scenarios#hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin x reader#stray kids x you#*writing#*oneshot
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don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au
this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--
his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!
So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.
Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.
Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.
And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.
Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.
Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.
He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?
Then there's PÄnelĂłpeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.
Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.
They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.
Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.
He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.
His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.
Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.
It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.
He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.
Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.
He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.
He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.
Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.
It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.
It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.
"I've become my grandfather."
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danyal al ghul au#dpxdc au#dp x dc au#dpxdc prompt#ive been playing cult of the lamb recently and you can tell#anyways i thought this was funny to think about. its specifically danyal al ghul bc that makes it even funnier#tfw you accidentally become a cult leader. rip to you danny you have a cult following#not at ALL an accurate depiction of a cult but i still think its funny. innaccurate cult depictions. ur in too deep to change it now danno#sam and tucker: hey dude... this is a cult | danny still learning how to People: what. no. these are all my friends and refugees.#his inner circle are all Insane about him they just show it in different ways. Sirius is as equally zealous as the rest they just don't#show it as much. which has mistakenly convinced danyal that they are the more logical one. no danny. they would kill for you#danny: i am being hospitable | sam: you created a cult | danny: i am being hosPITABLE#i dont like ghost king aus but i love danny being in positions of power it just has to feel earned. 'accidental kingdom acquisition' is my#favorite trope it just has to be done correctly. đ«” build that bitch up with your bare hands and not realize until its too late you fool#'becoming a world power by accident and im in too deep to back out now'#danyal. a raised assassin (has no threshold for normal behavior): *sees utter devotion towards him* yeah this is fine and normal.#danyal: yk i dont see this ending horribly. *goes and collects more followers* yeah this is totally cool. welcome to the constellation#danyal: *saves a few people and houses them in his lair* (everyone liked that [to a worrying degree actually])#his inner circle: my moon! | danny: my stars :]#danny: ive become my grandfather. | danny: ... | danny: idk how to feel about that honestly.#those poor cultists that kidnapped antares were subjected to a 3hr tangent about 'the radiance of the Moon and his resplendent generosity'#before danyal found him and got him home. who were the cultists summoning? who knows! but they got Objectively the Worst out of the#constellation to summon by accident. actually they're all bad there's no picking who. they're all various amounts of Unhinged Danny just#Never Realizes It because he is also Unhinged and thinks some of this shit is normal.#like yeah thats totally normal behavior he has no questions whatsoever. this seems like Typical People Stuff.
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