#but it’s only a few dates with weeks between each country

[tulsa24]

hazy tiredness + the middle of the night + lover by taylor swift = soft enha thoughts, so those can be found in the tags <3

[chlorinecake]

A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader

▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au

▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…

▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1

YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.

“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”

Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…

… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.

Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…

Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.

Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—

“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.

“Did you just… growl at me!?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.

Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.

“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.

“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.

“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…

Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.

“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”

“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”

You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—

“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.

“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.

The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—

“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.

You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.

“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”

“Really?”

“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.

That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—

“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”

Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now

“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”

“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.

And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…

The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.

But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.

The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.

“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.

You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—

“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.

And that’s when you felt it…

The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…

You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.

Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…

You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.

You knew what was happening right now..

Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…

FLASHBACK —

“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”

“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.

“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”

“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”

His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.

“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”

“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.

He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.

“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.

“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”

What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…

Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.

But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…

Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…

“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—

“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.

“So what?”

“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”

“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”

“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”

Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”

You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”

“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.

“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips. 

Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.

Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.

“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.

“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.

And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.

The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.

He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.

Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...

Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—

“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”

“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”

All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.

“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.

But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.

And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.

You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.

You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…

“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.

“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”

“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.

Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…

Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.

He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…

Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.

Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.

“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”

“Love it when you come all over my face.”

“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”

“So so beautiful, and just for me.”

“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”

“You taste so fucking divine...”

“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”

He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”

But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.

A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”

“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…

That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.

“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.

“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”

“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.

“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.

Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.

“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”

It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…

You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…

You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings

[willowsnook]

miscommunication

can I get a salami and lettuce wrap please? tyyyyy <3

oscar piastri x coworker!reader

she isn’t you

—————————————————-

“I just don’t understand why we’re making a switch so late in the season,” you complained to Lando as you walked through the halls of MTC with him.

“It’s because I’m a handful,” he said cheerfully and you rolled your eyes. “I’m trying not to be insulted right now by you, but you’re making it hard.”

Snorting, you looked over at him. You both had just been informed that, effective immediately, you would be his PR manager moving forward, and Oscar would be getting someone new.

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” you argued. “We spend so much time together anyways.”

“Oh, I know. You’re just upset you don’t get to be around your crush,” he said, and you stopped him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I do not have a crush on him,” you said, eyes narrowed. “We are just friends.”

Lando smirked and you knew he had you. Okay, so maybe you had a little crush on Oscar, but who could blame you? He was attentive, kind, and very easy on the eyes.

“Uh huhh,” he drawled. “Please, I think everyone is happy now that we don’t have to watch the two of you obliviously flirt with each other anymore.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, following him into the cafeteria. You spotted Oscar sitting at a table with an unfamiliar girl, listening intently to whatever she was saying.

You and Lando made your way over there, sitting down at the table.

“Hey guys,” Oscar said. “This is my new PR manager, Stacy.”

You introduced yourself before subtly sizing her up. She looked like she was a couple of years older than you but was very pretty, which irritated you. To make it worse, she had an Australian accent.

“Are you from Australia?” Lando asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, not too far from where Oscar is from,” she replied.

You felt a twinge of jealousy as Oscar's eyes lit up at the mention of his home country. He and Stacy immediately launched into a conversation about their shared experiences growing up in Australia, laughing at inside jokes you couldn't understand.

Lando caught your eye and raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your discomfort. You forced a smile and tried to focus on your lunch, but couldn't help glancing up at Oscar and Stacy every few seconds.

"So, how long have you been in PR?" you asked Stacy, trying to join the conversation.

"Oh, about five years now," she replied with a dazzling smile. "I've worked with a few different teams, but I'm really excited to be with McLaren. And of course, to work with Oscar."

She shot him a playful look, and he grinned back at her. Your stomach churned at the interaction and you stood up quickly, everyone looking at you in surprise.

“I just remembered that I have a meeting soon; I’ll catch you guys later,” you got out, and Lando shook his head in embarrassment for you.

—————————————————-

Lando actually was a handful to manage PR-wise, so your days were a little busier than they had been. You and Oscar hadn’t really talked much in the past couple of weeks, mostly because of how busy you were, and you were kind of avoiding him. It seems like every time you saw him, he was talking to Stacy and if you watched him smile at her one more time, you might die.

You had never been the jealous type, so these feelings were very confusing. You guys weren’t even dating, for God's sake.

It was after the sprint race in Brazil that you ran into Oscar as you had stepped out to see how bad it was raining.

“Hey, you looked good today,” you said and he smiled down at you.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I haven’t gotten to talk to you in a while.”

“Oh I know, I’ve been busy with Lando,” you said and he frowned.

“You two seem to be getting close,” he commented and you shrugged, turning back to watch the rain.

“He’s a handful.”

Oscar chuckled softly, leaning against the wall next to you. "Yeah, he can be. But he's a good guy."

You nodded, feeling the tension between you two. The silence stretched on, broken only by the patter of rain. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the awkwardness, but your mind was blank.

"So, how are you liking working with Lando?" Oscar finally asked, his voice careful.

You shrugged again. "It's fine. Different from working with you, of course."

"Different how?" he pressed, and you could feel his eyes on you.

"Just... different," you said lamely, not wanting to admit how much you missed working with him. "How's it going with Stacy?"

Oscar was quiet for a moment. "It's good. She's very professional."

"That's good," you replied, fiddling with your hands.

“I think they might move qualifying to tomorrow,” he said, and you nodded in agreement, seeing that the rain would not let up. Maybe we could grab something to eat when we get back to the hotel?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I’ll ask Lando if he wants to join, Stacy can come as well,” you said and his brows furrowed.

“Uhh-yeah, okay,” he said. You were too busy in your own head to hear the frustrated sigh he let out.

Dinner was torture for you as you watched Stacy shamelessly flirt with Oscar and you laid your head on Lando’s shoulder while watching the show. After that, you could tell something was irritating Oscar because anytime Lando said something, he either didn’t respond, glared at him, or gave a short reply. After paying the bill, you walked back with Lando, thinking about the night.

“What’d you do to piss him off?” You asked and Lando gave you an amused look.

“You didn’t notice the pattern?” He asked and your face scrunched up in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“He was perfectly fine until you leaned into me and then it was like a switch went off,” he said.

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” you muttered, not wanting to acknowledge any truth to that. “He was flirting with her all night, I don’t know why he would have cared.”

“She was flirting,” Lando corrected and you waved him off. “You drive me insane.”

“Likewise buddy.”

————————————————————————

Brazil on Sunday was a disaster, and Lando’s comments to the media that followed sent you into a spiral. You worked on a clarification statement for the rest of the night, and by the time it hit 10 p.m., you were exhausted. Finally, making it back to the hotel, you saw Oscar playing on his phone while waiting in the lobby.

“What are you still doing up?” You asked, moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“Waiting for you,” he said. “I knew you were going to be there late so I just put in a food order.”

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do that," you said softly.

Oscar shrugged, a small smile on his face. "I wanted to. It's been a rough day for everyone."

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion settle into your bones. "That's an understatement."

Just then, the hotel staff brought over a tray with covered dishes. Oscar thanked them and turned to you. "I hope you're hungry. I got us some pasta and garlic bread."

The smell of the food made your stomach growl, reminding you that you hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Starving, actually. Thank you, Oscar."

You both dug into the meal, eating in comfortable silence for a few minutes. It felt nice to just be with him, no distractions or other people around.

"So," Oscar said after a while, "how’s Lando?”

“Disaster,” you said sadly. “I called Max earlier to talk to him, I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Me either,” Oscar said thoughtfully. “He beats himself up way too much.”

“I agree,” you said. “How do you do it?”

“I know what’s in my control and what’s not,” he said and you nodded along. “And I also use the people around me to lean on.”

At the last part, he looked deep into your eyes, and you blushed, looking down at your food.

“I’ve been avoiding you,” you blurted out and he looked at you in surprise.

“I know,” he said, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t like seeing her with you,” you admitted, looking anywhere else.

“She’s my PR manager,” he said confused. “Are you jealous?”

You didn’t respond to that and the corners of Oscar’s mouth lifted slightly.

“You of all people know that I have to spend time with her,” he pressed, not realizing the real root of your jealousy.

“Of course I know that,” you snapped, frustrated. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I miss getting to hang out with you.”

“She isn’t you,” he said, reaching out for your hand. “We have a good relationship, but it’s not like ours. I’m still here.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words and the gentle touch of his hand on yours. For a moment, you just stared at your intertwined fingers, trying to process what was happening.

You felt a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "I've been so stupid," you said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I let my jealousy get the best of me and I pushed you away."

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "I probably should have made time for you sooner.”

“You’re my best friend Oscar,” you said, pussying out of confessing, and for a second, a deflated look flashed on his face before he recovered.

“You’re mine too,” he said with a forced smile.

——————————————————-

Back at MTC, you were in a good mood. Having seen Lando in the morning, you felt reassured that he was good. You stepped outside to take a walk after lunch when you overheard two voices from around the corner.

“You know what I still don’t understand?” You heard Stacy ask someone.

“What?” You heard the voice of the office administrator respond.

“He requested that she be moved from being his PR manager. I was originally supposed to come on as Lando’s but Oscar asked the team to switch it.”

Your blood froze as you eavesdropped, a million emotions running through your head. He didn’t want you to be his PR manager anymore? Betrayal washed over you and you felt tears fill your eyes. Subconsciously, your feet led you to keep walking to the parking lot and your car. When you shut the door, everything broke loose, and you rested your arms and head against the steering wheel as you cried.

God you had been so stupid. How could you have been so stupid to even entertain the possibility that he felt the same way?

Lando saw you walking towards your car and followed, knowing that you both had to be in a meeting in ten minutes. He pulled open your passenger door, thinking he could scare you, but he was caught off guard when your tear-soaked face looked over at him.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked, panicked, and that only made you cry harder. Leaning over the console, he grabbed your shaking body, pulling it into his chest. He rubbed your back as you cried into him, soon slowing down to only sniffles.

“He asked for me to switch to be your PR manager rather than continuing to be his,” you told Lando as you pulled out of his arms.

Lando gave you a confused look, “what do you mean?”

“I overheard Stacy telling someone that she was supposed to work with you, but Oscar wanted to make the switch,” you said, trying not to cry again.

“That can’t be true; he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him.”

“Obviously not,” you laughed bitterly.

“But what about Brazil? He waited up for you.”

“Guilty conscience maybe,” you justified and Lando frowned. “I’m going home, will you tell everyone I just wasn’t feeling well?”

Lando nodded before squeezing your hand and leaving.

As he walked back into the building, he was on a mission. He had already texted someone that you and he were missing the meeting. Oscar was talking to a mechanic on the floor, and Lando walked quickly towards him.

“I need to talk to you,” he said coldly and Oscar was taken aback by his teammate's bluntness. The mechanic looked awkwardly between them before muttering that he had something to do and scurrying off.

“What’s up?” Oscar said.

“Did you request that y/n be moved to work with me?” He asked directly and Oscar’s eyes widened, caught way off guard.

“I did,” he said slowly. “How do you know that?”

“Y/n just told me,” Lando replied, crossing his arms. Oscar instantly paled, looking at Lando with disbelief.

“No,” he whispered softly. “How does she know that?”

“She overheard someone talking about it,” Lando told him, more gentle this time.

Oscar sunk into a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands.

“What did she say about it? y/n,” He asked quietly and Lando sighed, sitting next to him.

“It was hard to understand her because of how hard she was crying,” he murmured, and Oscar squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t understand why, though, I thought you liked her?”

“I do like her; that’s the problem,” he confessed, looking over at Lando. “I talked to HR, and they told me the only way I could pursue her would be if we didn’t work together directly.”

Lando’s eyes widened in realization and he laughed humorlessly.

“You are such an idiot,” he breathed out, amazed by Oscar’s stupidity. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“I wanted to,” Oscar snapped. “But then it happened, and she was avoiding me, and then she basically friendzoned me in Brazil, so it was never a good time.”

“Oh my god mate, she’s been in love with you since forever,” Lando complained.

Oscar's head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What? No, that can't be right. She told me I was her best friend."

Lando groaned in frustration. "Because she was scared to tell you how she really felt! She's been jealous of Stacy this whole time, thinking you two were flirting."

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, looking stunned. "I had no idea. I thought she was getting closer to you and..."

"And you were jealous," Lando finished for him. "You two are both idiots."

"Where is she now?" Oscar asked urgently, standing up.

"She went home. She was pretty upset," Lando replied.

Without another word, Oscar took off running towards the parking lot. Lando called after him, "You better fix this, mate!"

Oscar's heart was racing as he sped towards your apartment. You had been lying in bed on top of your comforter for the past 20 minutes, staring at the ceiling. Someone knocked at your door, and you ignored it, but they wouldn’t stop. Flinging open the door, there was Oscar. His heart broke at the sight of you, swollen eyes but still a fire in them.

“You are the last person I want to fucking see right now,” you seethed, and he flinched back. It would be easy for him to turn around and leave and have you hate him for the rest of your life. But he was done wasting time.

He pushed past you, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the living room, forcing you to sit on the couch in front of him. You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to speak.

“I asked for you to be removed as my PR manager,” he stated.

“I know.” You replied sourly.

“I was told that it was the only option to continue down the path I was on,” he said, and your anger faded into confusion.

"What path?" you asked, your brow furrowed..

Oscar took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair nervously. "The path where I could pursue you romantically without it being a conflict of interest."

Your eyes widened in shock, your arms falling to your sides. "What?"

"I've had feelings for you for a long time," Oscar admitted, his voice soft. "But I couldn't act on them while you were my PR manager. So I requested the switch."

You sat there, stunned into silence. Your mind was racing, trying to process this new information.

"But... Stacy..." you started, still struggling to understand.

Oscar shook his head. "There's nothing between me and Stacy. She's just my PR manager, I told you that. You're the one I want to be with."

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked softly. He sighed, moving to sit next to you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He countered and your face flushed.

“Fucking Lando,” you muttered. “You’re like a robot Oscar, how was I supposed to know you felt the same way?”

He considered this for a moment before reaching over to grab you and pull you into his lap. Your head settled in the crook of his neck as you relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Oscar murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "I should have been more open with you. I was just so scared of ruining our friendship if you didn't feel the same way."

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "I've been in love with you for so long, Oscar. I thought you could never see me as more than a friend or coworker."

His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. "I see you as everything, Y/N. You're my best friend, my confidant, the person I want to share all my successes and failures with. And now, I hope, something more."

Your heart was pounding as you leaned in closer, your noses almost touching. "Something more sounds perfect," you whispered.

Oscar closed the distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours.

[attapullman]

Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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[lcriedlastnight]

Friends to lovers with Lando

"Who's the most beautiful person you've seen?"

"The one that's asking the question."

"What?"

"What."

teehee, this one made me giggle! thanks anon!

tw: fem!reader, swears, idek let me know if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.1k

"it's a mate date!" your voice echos throughout the hallway of yours and your roommates flat. you and lando had just recently become friends and he had so kindly suggested that on his next day off you should both head out on a 'mate date' as he had called it.

"what the fuck is a mate date?" your roommate asks as she potters around in the kitchen. "surely you wouldn't be putting that much effort in for a mate date?".

her questions stuns you for a second. it seriously makes you stop in your tracks, one hand paused halfway through trying to put in your prettiest pair of earrings. okay, maybe you had a little crush on lando but you were not mentioning it, to him or anyone else for that matter. you knew it would either blow up in your face or you would ruin the blossoming friendship between you and lando.

you kick back into action and head back through to the kitchen to meet your roommate, bag in hand as you give her a twirl so she can evaluate your outfit. you get an enthusiastic reply from her once you are still again.

"is it a crime to want to look good when i leave the house. i don't get to do it as often as i want so when i do i'm gonna go all out." you tell her with a stern tone. is looking good for your crush too extreme these days??

after you were one hundred percent sure you were ready to leave you shoot lando a text, telling him you were on your way to the little cafe you both had decided on a few nights prior. it was this cutesy little french inspired place. the only issue was that it was in monaco. you did not live in monaco, neither were you actually in the country right now. lando, being well lando, had offered to fly you out just for the occasion. as he had said to you over text a week ago 'i'm desperate to see you again'. of course it was only a platonic desperation to see you, you had told yourself as you made your way to the airport. you did not really want to go on a plane in your date outfit and makeup but you really had no choice as lando had near enough forced you on that plane.

the journey was not too long and by the time you had landed at the airport lando was waiting for you. a denim jacket on and a lovely bunch of fresh, pink tulips. you were not too sure how lando knew what your favourite flower was but you sure as hell were not complaining.

"hey! you look lovely!" lando greets, warm smile gracing his tanned face. you roll your eyes as he pushed the flowers forward for you to grasp. you sling your tote bag over your shoulder as you take them from him.

"shut up, i've just come off a flight. you are laying on the charm thick today." you respond. lando laughs a little then motions for you to follow him out and into the car waiting outside.

"the cafe isn't too far from here but i didn't wanna make you walk there." lando drives his open-roofed car along the streets of monaco and you barely take in anything he says to you the whole drive there, even though it was barely a ten minute drive. the scenery around you was simple gorgeous and you did not think that you had ever seen anything as stunning in your entire life. you were completely mesmerised. and so was lando, but for a completely different reason.

once you both arrive outside the cafe, lando is quick to speed around the bonnet of the car to open your door for you. it makes you smile so it was completely worth the bruise lando is sure will form tomorrow once you have gone back home. a nice little reminder of the day, lando had thought to himself as he takes your arm and leads you inside the cafe.

lando had offered to order your drink for you as you waited at your table. once lando had returned with your drinks he gives you yours and sits down opposite you.

you both make small talk with each other as you catch up. you had both been texting pretty much everyday but there was just some things that just had to be told in person. you both end up asking each other wild questions. lando had just asked you "what is the highest amount of bagels you could eat in a day?" and after you had both had a pretty heated discussion about whether or not you could actually manage the twenty-six that you had answered, it was your turn to ask.

"okay this is gonna sound pretty childish, like it's so high school." you laugh into your white mug. "but i have to know."

lando smirks at you. "oh you just have to know?" he teases.

"i do. who's the most beautiful person you've ever seen?" your eyes trail over his features as you ask, knowing your own answer already.

"the girl that's asking the question." lando replies instantly. no hesitation. no stopping to think about it. he answered as if he had known the answer before you had even asked the question.

your brows raise in surprise as you question him. "what?".

"what."

you are both just sitting staring at each other for a second or two in silence. lando regretting not thinking before he spoke and answered your question. there was no way he had not just fucked up the budding friendship between the two of you. you regretting even asking the question. there was no way lando could mean that anyway, he was so obviously laying it on thick because he had caught wind of your pathetic little crush. how? you had no idea.

"look-"

"did you-"

you both start talking at the same time, an awkward little laugh falling between the both of you. lando clears his throat and tells you to go first.

"did you- do you mean that?" you ask, not even hesitating to ask him.

lando is so quick to nod. "of course i did. i really like you. i know it kinda messes up whatever kinda friendship we have going on right now." lando's hand rubs the back of his neck in a nervous action. your grin eases his nerves though.

"hm, i guess i don't really mind messing this up." lando smiles and you really think you have made the best decision of your life.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 4- The Chase

Summary: You can only keep running from Frankie Morales for so long. At some point, he'll catch up to you, whether you like it, or not.

Word Count: 3.5K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Do I spy a hint of... ✨feelings✨??? Yearning, a hint of teenage violence (Santi deserves it, it's okay), the appearance of the Miller Brothers, Frankie basically looking like this 🥺 for the last half of this chapter, banter because I live for it

A/N: I'm convinced that teenage Frankie and the Frontier Boys are the best characters to write for, period 😭 I never thought I would live to see the day where my chapters are less than 5K (?!?) but I'm really trying to be better about posting on a schedule- If you would rather have them be longer and wait two weeks between chapters instead of once a week, let ya girl know 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thank you for all of your kind words about this story, your kind comments literally fuel me and make my heart explode, ily 🥹💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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Frankie, Fall of 2005, Age 16

For as much as he hates school, there will be two classes Frankie knows he’ll always pass with flying colors- Gym and Math. 

When he and Santi went to pick up their 11th grade class schedules before the start of the school year, you would have thought they’d won the lottery when they looked down on the crinkled half sheets of paper to find they were both in the same 6th period gym class. 

Five weeks into the start of Junior year, Frankie’s now convinced that Santi and his new friends, Will and Benny Miller, are in on some sort of scheme to make him fail the one class he’s guaranteed an “A” in. 

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, for the love of God, will you please slow down?!” 

Santi’s all but huffing at the pace Frankie had set for the four of them to run the two miles they’re supposed to finish by the end of class, only three of the eight laps they need to run around the track completed. 

“We’re not even going that fast, Santi, you’re fine.” 

Frankie can’t help but laugh at the way his friend is laboring behind him. Sure, Santi’s got football to thank for keeping him looking less like a gangly string bean than Frankie does, but even at 16, the boyish satisfaction of knowing he’ll always be faster than his friend is undeniable.

“Do you do like, cross country or somethin’, Frankie?” 

“Yeah man, I thought Santi said you swam not ran.” 

The Miller Brothers were a new addition to his and Santi’s long standing friendship duo. Will and Benny moved from North Carolina over the summer and had befriended Santi after a few weeks of preseason football camp that the high school held before the start of the school year. Of course, that meant Frankie became friends by proxy shortly after. 

Frankie was fond enough of the two, but the group was still stuck in the awkward dating phase of friendship where everything was just enough of a pissing match to prove that they were worthy enough of each other’s company. 

“Yeah, I’m on the swim team, I don’t do cross country or anything like that.” Frankie shrugs, rounding the curve of the track with ease as he leads the pack to their halfway point. 

“Then how the hell did you get so fast?” Benny pants, the straw blonde hair matted to his forehead with sweat scrunching as he pinches his brows in a mixture of confusion and unadmitted pain. 

“‘Cause he likes to go running with MacKenzie.” 

Santi’s lips curl to a devious smile as he watches Frankie’s face grow red from his sing-songy taunting. At least with the Millers, Frankie could pretend to chalk the hot, pink sting in his cheeks to the mile he’s been running. Unfortunately, he can’t assume the same with Santi. 

“Shut up, Santi.” Frankie grumbles, picking up his pace to the point he knows it’ll make Santi’s lungs strain just enough to keep him from rambling. 

“Oh shit, like, MacKenzie Anderson, MacKenzie?” Will’s face lights up, his less than lengthy friendship making him blissfully unaware of the history between you and Frankie, “She’s hot.” 

“Ew, n- no, she’s not. That’s weird.” 

The other three are surprised Frankie’s pants have yet to set on fire after such a bold lie. 

“They go run together every weekend.” 

At this point, it’s pure mockery the way Santi is teasing him, pushing Frankie to his limits to see how much he can get away with before his friend breaks. 

“So like, are you guys, dating or something?” 

“What?! No! No- She’s like, my best friend. I just- She plays soccer, so I go run with her to help her train and stuff. It’s good cardio, anyways.” 

Frankie doesn’t mean to snap at Benny for his question. It’s a secondary response to the way his chest is tightening and heart is racing as the eyes of all his friends stay peeled to him, like a guilty suspect in a courtroom everyone is waiting to catch in the midst of their lie. 

“Running’s not the only kind of cardio he wishes he was doing with MacKenzie, huh Frankie?” 

The boys are too busy snickering at each other to realize that Frankie’s completely stopped in his tracks ahead of them, turning around with arms outstretched to greet Santi with a brute shove to the ground as they collide. 

“I said shut UP, Santi!”

Frankie doesn’t intend for it to draw as much attention as it does, how the way he’s practically screaming at his friend he’s pushed to the ground has garnered the attention of everyone else in his gym class.

“Jesus, Frankie, it was just a joke! Chill out!” 

Will and Benny help Santi off the rubber of the track, leaving him and Frankie in a silent stare down of flared nostrils and gritted teeth, bodies boiling with teenage testosterone. 

Despite his rage, Frankie has enough self control to keep from saying (or doing) anything else he’ll regret, forcing himself to take off running in a frustrated huff of silence, heart in his throat and fists clenched, leaving behind his group of friends.  

“Shit. Is he always like that when you talk about her?” Will asks, still slightly stunned by the altercation he’s just witnessed, considering Frankie’s usual calm and quiet demeanor. 

“Yup.” Santi replies, popping the “p” at the end of his answer, “Well, not always this bad, but still,  ya know?”  

“Why?” Benny chimes in, the three of them slowly beginning their trot back around the track, lengths behind their fuming friend. 

“‘Cause they’re like, secretly in love with each other. They say they’re just friends, but they act like they’re fucking married.” Santi pretends to gag as he forces his eyes to roll as far back in his head as they possibly can. “He’s been extra pissy because yesterday he found out this guy, Nick Walsh, who’s some senior on the boy’s soccer team, tried to ask her to Homecoming.” 

“Did she say yes?” 

“No! That’s the thing! I don’t know why he’s got his fucking granny panties in a knot about it. Whatever, man. Not my problem.” 

The Miller brothers exchange intrigued glances, wondering how much more they can pry out of Santi as they mope around the track, hoping they can at least make the second half of their two miles entertaining. 

“If he’s mad about it, why didn’t he just ask her?” Will shrugs, offering up what seems like a reasonable solution to his new friend’s problem. 

“Ask him, dude. I have no fucking clue. They’re going with the same group of friends, so they’re gonna spend the whole night together, anyways. Honestly, if you want my opinion, I think he knows he doesn’t have the balls to nut up and ask her himself ‘cause he’s worried she’s gonna say no.” 

Despite the 23 other kids in the class who are also being forced to run circles around the track, there’s only one who makes the three of them freeze as he passes by, feeling the hole he’s burning through the back of their heads. Santi knows he’s too loudmouthed for his own good, and that there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that Frankie didn’t make out what he had to say as he snuck up behind him. 

And he's right. Frankie hears every word.

If he wasn’t at school, he wouldn’t think twice about punching Santi so hard in the gut it would knock the wind right out of him. But right now, all he can do is keep running, faster and faster, one foot in front of the other. 

Maybe if he runs fast enough, no one will be able to see the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, or the disappointment that’s drained every ounce of color he’s got left in his face. 

Maybe if he runs fast enough, he can outrun the cold, hard truth of the way Santi’s words ring in his ears and put bricks in his chest. 

Maybe, just maybe, if he runs fast enough, somewhere along the worn high school track he’ll find the courage to prove himself wrong. 

You, Present 

You’re convinced he’s following you. He has to be. 

All you wanted to do this morning was to go for a run to clear your head, to blow off some steam after the shit show that had been yesterday’s first interaction with Frankie in the past three years. You were confined to your room for the better half of the day, your dad keeping Frankie hostage in your home far too long for your liking. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to deny a dying man whatever he wants, even if it’s Frankie Morales’s unwelcome presence in your living room. It also meant having to listen to your dad ramble about Frankie for the next several hours after he’d left, politely nodding at all the compliments and praise your father had to give him while your blood boiled in silence. 

Now, all you wanted to do was to run until your head was free of Frankie for just a little while.

It seemed like Frankie had other plans. 

You gave him the benefit of the doubt the first quarter mile, hell, you even tried to just play it off as unlucky timing at the half mile point. But now, you’re a mile into your run, turning on to Fuller Street with Frankie still trotting behind you. It’s clearly not an accident he’s chosen the same path for his morning jog. 

“There are other ways you can go run, you know.” You shout at Frankie without even turning your head over your shoulder, thinking that maybe he’s assumed you hadn’t noticed him and your not so subtle suggestion will get him to turn around. 

“It’s a free country. I can run where I want.” 

Part of you wishes you would have turned to look back at him so he could see the way your eyes met the back of your skull from rolling them so hard, but you keep your gaze glued to the pavement in front of you. You won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence.  

“Can you please just go run somewhere else? I’m just trying to enjoy my morning and you’re not helping, Frankie.” 

“Not trying to bother you, just trying to run. I didn’t have anything to say until you started talking to me.” 

You know if you turned around right now, he’d have that stupid little smug grin hiding in the corner of his cheeks. A battle of wits is his favorite game to play. He’s learned how to strategize, to stay calm, cool and collected in the midst of your chaos, waiting until you hit the breaking point of his crazy you can’t bear to tolerate anymore. Your jaw tenses with the long exhale you take as you prepare to go head to head. 

“I wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t been following me the past mile.” 

“How do you know I’m following you?” 

“You’ve literally been running ten feet behind me for the past twelve minutes.” 

“Who says I wasn’t planning on running this way to begin with but you just got a head start?” 

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, please just go pick a different way to run.” 

“Who put you in charge of the running police? Do I have to sign a permit before I go jog now?” 

“Go. Run. Somewhere. Else.” 

“No. You don’t get to tell me where to run. This is the way I wanna go, so I’m gonna keep going until-” 

“No! I know you don’t want to go this way!” You’ve accepted defeat, swinging around to storm towards Frankie, stopping dead in his tracks as he realizes the ferocity you’re approaching him with, “I know for a fact you don’t wanna run this way. You know how I know? Because you hate running down Fuller Street. You would run five miles out of your way before you even considered running down this street on your own free will. There hasn’t been a single time we’ve ever run down this street where you haven’t complained the entire way because of how much you hate the hill at the end of the road before we turn onto Wilson way! That’s how I know, Frankie! So stop pretending like you just happened to choose the same way as me by accident, and just leave me alone! Ugh!” 

You’re positive there’s a trail of steam streaming behind you with the way you’re absolutely fuming, turning back around to take off as fast as your body will let you. You can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but straight ahead, too afraid that if you turn around, those stupid, sad brown eyes will make you feel guilty enough to give him the last word he doesn’t deserve. 

Your feet are flying so fast across the pavement, you’re convinced he’s given up, shocked into submission by your anger that he’ll at least let you finish the rest of your run in peace. Your eyes are still locked on the horizon ahead. It’s the arrogance of your self-reassurance that doesn’t even let you contemplate the thought that several yards behind you, Frankie lets out a quiet “fuck me” before letting his hands drop from their place on his hips to chase behind you at full speed. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” 

It’s a stupid question. It’s obvious Frankie has said a prayer to hope his knees don’t give out on him as he runs as fast as possible to try and catch up to you. The rhythmic thump of his sneakers pounding against the concrete catches your attention enough to see how quickly he’s gaining on you. It only makes you run faster. 

“Jesus- fuck this hill- MacKenzie, will you fucking slow down?” 

You won’t admit you’re probably just as exhausted as Frankie from the way you’ve been sprinting up the steep incline at the end of the road, but his exasperated huffs are enough to keep you pushing through the pain, mental and physical. 

“No. Run faster.” 

You’re hopeful it’s early enough that no one is awake to see the comedic game of cat and mouse you and Frankie are playing in the middle of the road, chasing each other like you’re on the playground in a childish round of tag. You’d never admit to his face that you know he’s stronger, even faster than you, but the grip he settles around your arm as he finally catches up to you lets you know you’ve lost. 

“Let go of me, Frankie!” 

If the street wasn’t already awake from your wild game of chase, your scream certainly would have gotten their attention. 

“Jesus Christ, MacKenzie, will you just let me talk to you for two fucking seconds?! Please, just- fuck- please just let me fucking talk to you, okay? Please.” 

Even if you wanted to keep running, there was no use. Truth be told, it wasn’t the grasp he had around your arm that was the thing keeping you from sprinting off into the distance. What had you frozen in place was that pathetic pout you knew was splayed across his face, burning a hole in the back of your head. What’s worse, was that you could feel it burning a hole through your chest, too. 

The all too familiar pain that came with holding onto the same, shriveled shred of hope that maybe this time, he’d prove you wrong. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t let you down. 

“Fine.” You barely mutter the word loud enough to hear as you turn around to face him, eyes still looking everywhere but directly at him. 

“I’m sorry, Kenz. I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up.” 

Somehow, his second apology stings worse than the first. It still doesn’t mean you won’t deny how much it hurts. 

“Yeah, no shit.” 

You let your gaze lift just enough to see the way he’s gnawing at his bottom lip, chewing at it like he’s trying to digest his own thoughts before they come out of his mouth. 

“What I said that night at Santi’s wedding, I just-” He pauses, knowing you can hear it clear as day in your head too.

“Fuck you, MacKenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.” 

“I- I- Fuck. I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I regret ever saying it. I think all the time about how much I regret it. I just, I was in a bad place.” 

You’re not sure what to say. Fuck, you’re not even sure what to feel. Part of you wants to scream at him, kick him in the crotch and berate him for how badly the past three years have hurt you. Part of you just wants to stand there and cry, to say nothing and let your tears flow and spill your emotions down your cheeks. Part of you wants to hug him, to believe him, to have him hold you so tightly against his chest that his apology seeps into your skin until you’ve forgiven him. 

But none of those parts are strong enough to win out alone. Instead, they’ve formed together to create a strange sort of storm that brews in your belly, swirling it so violently, it makes you want to vomit. 

“But you still said it, Frankie. You still said it. If my dad weren’t dying, would you even be here? Would you have ever apologized? Or are you just choosing to apologize now because it’s convenient and you feel like you have to?” 

It’s the first time you can bring yourself to look him in the face. You can see how his brain is churning with the same type of vicious waves that are in the pit of your stomach, drowning out the brown of his eyes. You both are lost in the midst of the storm, but you’ve got a lifeboat. He’s sinking below the thrashing tides, looking for you to let him board your ship. You won’t let him on unless he fights his way through the current to get to you. 

“I should have apologized a long time ago.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know. I was scared you’d never forgive me.” 

You swear you feel the grip he still has on your forearm tighten just for a moment. Now that he has you, he’s too scared to let you go. 

“Just- Jesus- Just because you apologized doesn��t mean I have to forgive you now, Frankie.” 

“Will you ever?” 

“Ever, what?” 

“Forgive me?” 

Your brain wants to say no. God, with everything in you does it want to say no. But that same stupid pain in your chest that lives and dies by that stupid shred of hope you’ll always hold onto just won’t let you. 

“I don’t know. I- I don’t know, Frankie.” 

You can’t ignore the way he’s still holding your arm. The shred of hope doesn’t want him to let go, even when you scowl at the way his fingers wrap around your skin. You scowl because of how his touch burns your skin, the way it ignites a fire in your gut from how tenderly he touches you. It makes you scrunch your face in frustration and confusion, trying to block out all the times he’s touched you like this before, fingers grazing against your skin in a desperate plea for affection, not forgiveness. He’s holding onto your arm to see if you’ll let him in the lifeboat- if you’ll offer him a chance to save himself. 

“I get it. I’m sorry, Kenz. I hope you at least know I mean it.” 

“I do.” 

You’re not sure what makes you want to offer him a last chance at survival. You’ve been separated by different sides of the same storm for so long- You can’t attest to the way he’s had to fight through it to stay alive, but if it’s anything like the side of the squall you’ve been stuck on, there’s a strange relief in finding in finding someone who knows the hell you’ve faced to keep from drowning in the undertow. You can’t seem to bear letting him drown right in front of you without even trying to help. 

“I still hate you, ya know.” You sigh, a defiant cry to prove to him you’re not happy about the path you’ve chosen. 

“Yeah, that’s fair. I deserve that.” 

It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh in so long. Even though it’s a muffled huff, trying to hide behind the raise of his eyebrows and nod of his head at the ground, you know it’s there, in that same corner of his smirk he gets when he knows there’s no point in arguing with you- there’s no denying it’s there. 

There’s no denying it makes you do the same. 

“You gonna let me finish the rest of my run in peace, Morales?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Only ‘cause I still hate this fucking hill.” 

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[felixbit]

i hate to wait so long

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader w. 1.9k genre: fluff summary: your long-distance boyfriend's birthday is coming up but you don't have the funds to visit him this year. surprisingly, seungmin turns up to your door anyways. warnings: reader is a uni student studying abroad a/n: inspired by the lyrics of this song :)

Choosing to study abroad was a good idea in concept. You got to travel and live in another country's culture for a semester as you worked on your degree.

That was, until you got a boyfriend. He lived back at home and you reconnected over old friends when you were first packing to leave. He'd come over to your place and hang out, playing video games and teasing you when you couldn't lift a moving box without help. Not that he could, either.

His name was Seungmin. He asked you out one week before you left for the semester, and it was the best week you'd had in a long time. You spent almost every day together, hanging out and trying new things until you got tired and crashed at each other's places.

When that first week came to a close, you begrudgingly packed up your things. Seungmin drove you to the airport, holding your hand as far into the airport as he could come with you.

It was through a teary-eyed confession from him that revealed he'd never felt closer to someone before than he did with you. He was too scared of saying goodbye and asked to be your boyfriend, even if he was terrified of moving too fast.

When you agreed, he was using his sleeve to rub his eyes and denied ever crying. He told you to have a safe trip and he kissed you for the first time, promising a million more the next time he saw you.

You thought about that moment every day. Sitting at a desk doing work had never felt more dull, especially when you had a perfect boyfriend waiting for you at home. Life abroad wasn't bad, you were loving it, you just missed him more.

Every night, you stayed up to call him and tell him all about your day-to-day. He'd hop on his computer and play video games with you until the sun peeked over the horizon or you resigned to sleep.

When you weren't calling each other, you texted the whole rest of your waking hours. Seungmin would send a plethora of random photos from his day and complain about his band mates while you responded with your own pictures and advice.

It was starting to occur to you how close it was getting to September, which meant Seungmin's birthday was just around the corner. You had already decided on gifts, ready to buy them so they'll be delivered right on time.

But, it dawned on you pretty fast that you didn't have the money to visit. Studying in another country was really expensive and there was only so much time in a day you could work outside of school. Either way, there was no miracle budget to make it possible.

You told him this almost immediately, and he was extremely good about it. He reassured you that it wasn't necessary and he'd make up for all the lost time soon enough when you were done.

The remaining weeks between then had been full of assignments and deadlines coming up, so it snuck up on you. You'd been on a call with Seungmin the night before playing Overwatch when you looked down at the date on your computer.

"What time is it? Lemme- oh, shit." You stopped mid sentence, staring at the date on your computer screen in awe.

Seungmin looked confused, his webcam up on your second screen. "What's wrong? Do I need to back out of the queue?"

"No, no," You shook your head, laughing nervously, "I just saw the date. Your birthday's tomorrow."

"Don't tell me you forgot," Seungmin looked a little dumbfounded.

"I didn't forget, I just.. I've had a lot going on these past few weeks that September kinda went a little too fast."

"It's okay," Seungmin reassured, "I'll forgive you when I get to open the pile of gifts you've been sending me tomorrow morning."

"I wish I could be there to see it," You lamented.

"It's alright. You'll be able to give me them all in person next year, right?"

"Right! Plus, I'll be able to give you Christmas gifts at least."

At that moment, you connected to a game and the topic of conversation switched. The thought of missing his birthday lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away in order to enjoy the night with your boyfriend.

As the night was coming to a close, you made sure to wish him a happy birthday right as the clock rolled over to midnight. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary to stay up another three hours, but Seungmin decided to go to bed early and you followed in his footsteps.

Sleeping was nice. It was one of the times you could see Seungmin. He was almost always there waiting for you with a smile on his face. You could do anything together, just in a fantasy land. Maybe he wasn't really there, but it was enough to keep you going.

That night, you laid with him in bed. Your head was on his chest over a soft sweater as he sung to you. It was the first time in a while you'd dreamed of his room, bringing back all of the fond memories from before you'd left. His posters, guitar sat against his record collection, all his bookshelves. His diary was even on the nightstand beside his bed, true to life.

You almost hated waking up. The world was cruel for taking away the perfect dream it had crafted, but you knew soon enough you'd be in his room again.

Seungmin's birthday fell on a Sunday this year, so you didn't worry too much about waking up early. When you did inevitably get up, you made sure to text him a few more 'happy birthday' messages just in case he forgot about it himself. He was already up, thanking you for the birthday wishes and sending you a photo of his outfit.

It wasn't really his style to be awake and ready this early in the day, but it was his birthday. He has to make the most of his special day, you thought. So, you sent back some compliments and hearts and moved on with your own morning routine.

As you normally would, you kept Seungmin updated through texts on your morning. He wasn't super chatty, but it was to be expected with whatever he had planned. You expected to see a wall of text on what he was up to by the end of the day, but for now it was quiet.

By noon, you had gotten a little concerned, but brushed it off. His family likely had things to do with him, right? Plus, he had to get in some good meals.

It was almost one in the afternoon when you finally heard back from him. Seeing his name on your phone screen gave you an instant feeling of relief.

seungmin: come outside

You heard a knock at your door. The text had you confused, but you followed along. He couldn't be here, right?

Opening the door, there he stood. He was grinning ear-to-ear, shifting around on his feet. "Surprise."

It was on instinct that you threw your arms around him and hugged him with all the weight in your body. His wrapped around you and squeezed you back until you were wincing from the pressure.

"What are you doing here?!" You looked at him dumbfounded, your head spinning.

He looked back at you sheepishly, "I dunno, just thought it'd be cool if I showed up for a birthday surprise?"

"Yeah, but it's your birthday, Seungmin. That's the kind of thing I should be doing on your special day!"

"Well, I knew you didn't have enough to come visit this year, and I made it work! I really didn't want to wait so long to see you again."

You laced your fingers with his and pulled him inside, and that's when the explanation started.

Seungmin had first come up with the idea to come visit on his birthday almost a month prior when he first learned you couldn't come see him. He'd booked a flight out and made sure there wasn't any huge exams around the day.

That morning, he'd gotten up at six just to get ready and look good in time to catch his flight. He'd sent you photos he'd taken earlier when he was sitting in the airport, hoping it didn't look too suspicious.

The absence in texts was his flight over. It wasn't super long, but it was enough that he worried you'd catch onto his plan. From there, he'd gathered his stuff as quickly as he could and grabbed a ride over to your place.

After his story, you made sure to get him some food and snacks, which you happily enjoyed together as he turned on a show. He got a small tour of your student accommodation after the first episode before revealing that he had some plans set up.

Seungmin had made lunch reservations at a place not too far off campus and wanted to take you on a walk there. Of course, you said yes.

The entire way there, Seungmin refused to let go of your hand. He'd swing it along with your steps, chattering on about what was happening and the music he was making. But, no matter what, his fingers were locked with yours.

That was the fun part: Seungmin wasn't usually a big talker. He'd have lots of input to give when you would talk to him, but he wasn't super into initiating his own discussions. Today was different.

So as you walked down the cracked pavement of the sidewalks, your attention was grabbed by your chatty boyfriend. You got to engage with a lot of what he was saying, but it was nice to just walk and listen to him ramble.

Everything seemed more lively. The birds had their own chorus, the grass looked greener, and there were less loud cars blaring their music. By the time you were coming up on the lunch spot, you found your heart contented with the day already, even if you'd only been with Seungmin less than two hours.

"Minnie?" You squeezed his hand softly as you waited at a sidewalk.

Seungmin turned towards you with a smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming and seeing me," You felt your face flush a little at the thought, "I really don't know how I could've waited any longer without you."

Your boyfriend's big grin couldn't be contained as he let out a quiet laugh. "I don't think I could've waited, either. You've been in my dreams too much lately, and it's been driving me crazy not having you here."

"You see me in your dreams, too?" You asked, recalling the one from the previous night, "It's kind of infuriating, isn't it? It feels so perfect and then it's taken away so quick."

"Yeah, I just couldn't wait another day without having you here with me," Seungmin stopped as you crossed to the other side of the street before pulling you into a hug, "I had to hold you like this for real."

"You're such a dork."

Seungmin snickered as he pulled away from the hug and gave you a quick, yet tender kiss. His lips were soft and tasted sweet, making you miss them the second they were gone. "For you. The rest of the world doesn't matter to me."

"Today really has you in a sentimental mood, huh?" You pulled him in for another kiss, making sure it lasted longer. "Happy birthday."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go get lunch before you make out with me on the street."

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

Part 2 out now!

[hellodropbear]

homesick.

ingrid engen x mapi leon x child

isabel's first international camp.

this is a long one but i hope you enjoy and i hope it's up to scratch!

pls give me more requests i love them and i am slowly getting through them i promise

heaps of uni at the moment though so might take a while for me to get them out :)

~~~~~~

Isabel had been on a plane before. 

She had sat by the window many times, staring out the window as the buildings below got smaller and smaller, until all she could see was the bright lights in the distance. 

Ingrid and Mapi are professional football players, on a plane nearly every week. They also loved to travel, around Spain, to other countries in Europe. 

Up to Norway to visit Ingrid's home, her family. Everything she knew as she grew up. 

But usually, Mapi was on the plane too, right beside her with her bag full of toys and snacks. 

But today, Mapi was one of those people getting smaller and smaller in the distance and instead it was Ingrid beside her, Ingrid with the snacks and toys that would be more than enough to keep the child occupied for two days, let alone the two hours that they'd spend on the plane before touching down in the Scandinavian country. 

It was weird for the child, flying away from her Mami. It was 10 days away from her and the last time she had spent a night away she had cried so much that Mapi had to come stay at Alexia's as well. 

But that was back when she had only just turned 3. 

She was 4 now and both Mapi and Ingrid were confident that the child would be perfectly happy with the Norwegian, the centre back often complaining that Ingrid was the favourite even though Mapi was the one who gave birth to her, the one who raised her alone for 14 months. 

"You should have come here earlier," Mapi would say "You left me alone with a baby!"

Ingrid would blush profusely, overwhelmed with love and adoration for the two, as well as a huge amount of gratitude that they chose her - that they let her become part of their tiny family. 

In saying that, sending Isabel to Norway with Ingrid was an almost impossible decision for Mapi and she had spent weeks debating the idea in her head, with Ingrid, Alexia, her family. 

Everyone had said the same thing. 

Ingrid loved Isabel and Isabel loved Ingrid. Their family of two was becoming a family of three and all three of them loved each other an exponential amount. 

It wasn't sending Isabel to Norway, it was letting her go on a trip with Ingrid, something she had been begging for since she was old enough to understand why the Norwegian left every couple of months. 

The whole problem was her cousin's wedding, a child free event that Mapi's entire family would be at. 

She never got to see her whole family together, especially now she was dating Ingrid and they shared their already limited time between both Ingrid and Mapi's families. 

But this wedding coincidentally fell on an international break, the perfect opportunity to see everyone for a few days of uninterrupted celebration. 

It was just a shame that no children were invited. 

Mapi understood the reasons why, but it left her with the problem of where her daughter could go. 

She told Ingrid she'd miss the wedding, but the Norwegian had rolled her eyes, immediately telling her girlfriend to stop being stupid, that she'd take Isabel to Norway with her. 

Initially, the Spaniard was completely against the idea.

But eventually she agreed, which is how Ingrid found herself with an overexcited toddler bouncing in her seat as the plane touched down in Norway, gripping onto Ingrid's wrist with an overwhelmingly large grin on her face. 

"Excited, Is?"

Ingrid smiled amusedly at the brunette, placing her hand on her curly hair to try and calm her down. 

It was an impossible task though, because Isabel just nodded enthusiastically, her head almost falling off at the speed at which she moved her head up and down. 

She was still excited as the plane emptied out, as she bounced down the aisle, her hand tight in Ingrid's as they exited the plane and walked on the tarmac, shivering with a smile at the cool autumn air. 

She knew that Norwegian summers were a lot colder than the summer back home, but the autumn was event colder and Isabel didn't realise how much the climate would drop in the four months since they last visited. 

She bounded alongside the tall Norwegian, only slowing down to a walk when Ingrid's hand moved from her hand to her shoulder, physically slowing her down.

"It's an airport, Is, you have to stay with me so you don't get lost, alright?"

She nodded, grinning up at Ingrid who just smiled at her, unable to wipe away her grin when the giddy child was accompanying her to Norway. 

She stared out the window throughout the whole drive from the airport to the hotel, clutching onto Ingrid's hand as they entered the building, full of other people in Norway clothes that matched Ingrid.

"Ingrid." 

She tugged on her shirt, coming to a stop just inside of the doors. 

"What's wrong, Is?"

Her smile had been replaced with an anxious frown that Ingrid had immediately caught onto, waiting for the child to say something. 

"What if... what if I forget my Norwegian?"

Ingrid crouched down, moving a stray hair out of Isabel's forehead. Her hand stayed on her head as she smiled shaking her head. 

"It will be ok. I can translate for you, yeah?"

She waited as Isabel nodded hesitantly before continuing. 

"Besides, your Norwegian is so good I don't think you'd be able to forget it! You're so smart, Is!"

Isabel nodded, biting her lip and Ingrid realised that she was actually quite nervous. Deciding to take a different approach, she stood up and pulled Isabel into a room off the side, sitting down in front of her and motioning for her to sit down as well. 

"What are you doing, Ingrid?"

"We're going to go through some Norwegian."

And that's what they did for the next half hour, they went through Norwegian words and phrases that Isabel already knew, Ingrid tickling her every time she got something right. 

She was successful in cheering the four year old up, her peals of laughter audible from all over the first floor of the hotel. 

With a newfound confidence and a refreshed excitement, Isabel gripped onto Ingrid's hand as they wandered out of the little side room and towards the Norwegian media team who were ready and waiting with their cameras.

Ingrid's hand over her face did little to stop the child from using some of her Norwegian words though, pushing the protective hand away and grinning up at the people behind the cameras.

"Hei! Jeg er Isabel og dette er min Ingrid!"

~~~~~~

She successfully charmed all of the Norwegian staff upon their first meeting, following Ingrid all the way up to their room with a smile on her face. She was happy to see a little bed beside Ingrid's big one, dumping her bag on it before bounding over to the other side of the room and throwing herself on the big bed.

Ingrid smiled, shaking her head with a sigh and pulling the child back, away from the bed and towards the bathroom. 

"It's bath time, Is!"

The child sighed disappointedly, following the Norwegian and sitting on the chair in the bathroom as Ingrid filled up the bathtub with water and soap. 

"Soo..." The child swung her legs beneath the chair, catching Ingrid's attention before continuing. "What do you normally do when I'm not here?"

Ingrid shrugged, smiling. 

"Usually I'll get into bed and miss you and your Mami! It's why I am always calling in the nights when I'm away, because I'm not busy and I'm by myself which makes me miss you more."

Isabel jumped down from the chair, standing beside where Ingrid was sitting on the ledge of the bath. 

"Can we call Mami after bath time?"

Ingrid nodded. 

"She would be sad if we didn't!" 

The bath was full, and Isabel held Ingrid's hand for stability as she climbed in, sinking down into the warm water with a satisfied sigh, leaning into Ingrid's large and soft hand. 

The Norwegian pulled her out of the bath when there was more water on the bathroom floor and Ingrid than there was in the bath, complaining loudly about getting everything wet. 

She giggled as Ingrid dried her off, carrying her in her towel over to where she'd dumped her backpack, pulling out the pyjamas that had been strategically placed right at the top of the bag. 

"Cuddles?"

Ingrid smiled. To be fair, the child looked comfortable in her fuzzy pyjamas, tucked underneath the blankets of Ingrid's bed and surrounded by a barricade of pillows. She took a quick picture, shaking her head. 

"We are going to ring Mami now, and then I'll have my own shower. Cuddles soon, though!" 

It satisfied Isabel, who immediately perked up even more at the though of her mother on the other side of the phone. Mapi picked up after the first ring and Ingrid immediately passed the phone off to the child. 

"Mami!" 

She grinned down the phone, holding it up so only her mouth was visible in the camera. Ingrid laughed, setting up a pillow in front of the child as a stand and resting the phone there so Mapi could actually see the child. 

"Hola mi pequena!" 

Mapi was in bed, the night light on but the rest of her room dark. 

"I miss you so much already, Is!"

Isabel nodded, her face falling only slightly. 

"I miss you too, Mami." She frowned, biting her lip. "I wish you could come with me and Ingrid."

Ingrid left them to it, having her own shower. She could hear Isabel's giggles from the bathroom as she got ready for bed, Mapi's animated voice also audible through the closed door. 

The Norwegian knew how lucky she was to have gained the dynamic duo when she moved to Barcelona. She never expected to find love in the warm city, let alone a child too. It was something that came completely unexpectedly, but something she also couldn't imagine her life without. 

Despite still not living with them, she was there every day. She would put Isabel to bed, read her stories, feed her dinner. She was there when she woke up, making breakfast and feeding the dog. 

She went on every walk to the park, a daily event that had become something of a ritual to the small family, the park meaning so much to them.

She was often mistaken as a mother, a balanced amount of fun, discipline and care. 

It was a soft topic, really. 

Ingrid wished more than anything that Isabel saw her as a mother, that all her thoughts and anxieties would be validated. She didn't want to just be Mapi's girlfriend, she wanted to be a mother too. 

Mapi told her that she was being silly, of course Ingrid was Isabel's mother as well. 

"You don't look after a child this much, you don't watch her grow from a baby to a child without being a mother." Mapi would insist. "You arrived when she was still so little. You and I are all she knows. We are both her mothers."

Ingrid would shake her head because it all seemed so wrong. If she was a mother, she wouldn't be called Ingrid. She would be on those forms from school and would receive the emails about Isabel's progress too. 

But she didn't, because she wasn't a mother. 

She finished up in the bathroom, but remained behind the door for a few more minutes, just listening to Mapi and Isabel interact, hearing how the centre back spoke to her child with so much adoration, so much love. How she listened to everything Isabel said and how Isabel hung onto Mapi's words like they came straight out of god's mouth. 

She heard the laughter, the happiness. She could see the smiles on their faces despite the wall that blocked her vision. 

But when she walked out, Isabel's smile brightened, shuffling over to make space for her. 

"Ingrid just came back, Mami!" 

The Norwegian moved into the camera frame, Mapi's face softening at the sight of her girlfriend. 

"Hola my love."

Ingrid blushed, her hand coming to rest around Isabel as they chatted away, allowing the child to slowly drift off as the two defenders spoke calmly through the phone. She was fighting to stay awake to listen but felt her eyes drooping as she became limp in Ingrid's arms. 

"Night Mami. Night Ingrid."

Ingrid.

~~~~~~

Isabel woke up before Ingrid the next morning, full of childish excitement about the day ahead. It was exciting, being here with Ingrid, and she wanted to make the most of every day. 

But she didn't want to wake Ingrid up from her sleep so instead she got out her drawing book and pencils, pulling Ingrid's phone off charge and calling Mapi simultaneously. 

It was the morning, so why wouldn't she say good morning to her mother like she had done every single morning of her life?

But Mapi was confused when her phone started ringing at 7am, frowning at her girlfriend's name that lit up the phone. 

She had planned on sleeping in until noon, probably, only rolling out of bed when absolutely necessary - to reluctantly go for a run or to the gym. The Spaniard had not expected this early morning wake up call and her stomach dropped, immediately assuming there was something wrong. 

"Ingrid?" It was a facetime call, but Mapi could only see the roof in the frame, the phone not held up properly. 

"Hola Mami!" 

Despite the low volume, the four year old's voice was way too cheerful for this early in the morning. 

"Isabel, what are you doing on Ingrid's phone? Why are you awake so early?"

The child frowned at her mother's chides, biting her lip and shrugging. 

"To say mornin', mami! And I'm being extra quiet with my voice because I don't wanna wake Ingrid up."

Mapi smiled, her heart melting all over again at her own daughter's words. 

"Ok, Is. What are you going to do while you wait for Ingrid to wake up?"

She didn't answer verbally, instead picking up the phone and awkwardly angling it onto the empty page in front of her. 

"'M drawing!" 

Mapi could only chuckle, settling down in her bed and resting her phone on the pillow as she spoke easily to her daughter. 

She laughed even more as Ingrid's alarm went off, the surprise making Isabel jump right out of her skin before she made a quick recovery, scampering off towards the big bed and poking Ingrid on the side. 

"I know, Is, wake up time."

She heard Mapi's laughter, frowning in confusion as her eyes opened slowly. She was in Norway, Mapi was in Spain? It was too early to realise that the laughter was actually just coming through a phone speaker. 

"Morning sleepyhead." 

Ingrid's eyes scanned the room, searching for the source of her girlfriend's voice before they finally landed on the table on the other side of the room, a full set up of paper and pencils, Ingrid's phone laying face up beside. 

"Did you ring Mami, Is?"

She sat up, her feet coming to rest on the floor beside the bed and her hand reaching around Isabel's waist as the child nodded guiltily. 

"I say mornin' to Mami every day!" 

Ingrid sighed, standing up and walking over to the table, chuckling at Mapi's tired face as she lay in bed, her hair a mess and the blanket tucked up to her chin. 

"You don't have to sleep with the air conditioning on when I'm not there, Maria."

The Norwegian smiled lightly. It was a passing comment she made a couple years ago about how she liked sleeping in colder rooms. Ever since, Mapi had insisted on the air conditioning being turned on despite her own preference for the warmth. 

She would say Ingrid would warm her up, that Ingrid is her princesa, she had to have the best conditions. 

But Ingrid wasn't even in the country and the Spaniard was clearly cold in her bed despite her best efforts to cover up with the duvet. 

She shook her head, her face falling momentarily. 

"I like it." 

Ingrid's voice melted at how soft Mapi's voice was, wanting nothing more than to wrap her up in a hug and warm her up herself. 

"We slept in the cold too!" 

Isabel had climbed as high as she could on Ingrid until the Norwegian relented, helping her up and holding her on her side.

"Were you cold, Is?" Ingrid frowned slightly, worried that she had made the room too cold. Changing the thermometer was a habit, she realised. 

"No, because you are so warm, Ingrid!" 

Mapi smiled, her forehead creasing with happiness and perhaps a little bit of jealousy.

She missed the pair of them, of course she did. She didn't realise how empty her world would be without her daughter until she got home from the airport, no child to feed, to put to bed, to entertain.

No reason to watch cartoons on the TV either, but she found herself tempted to switch on the inane shows that Isabel loved so much.

She didn't need to leave the bedroom door open because there was no chance that Isabel would wake up in the night and want to come and sleep in her bed, but she left it open out of habit, only realising that it was pointless once she had already buried herself under the covers of the inanely cold room.

It was never as warm when she wasn't in Ingrid's arms.

There was nobody to talk to when she was curled up in bed, nobody to laugh with or cry with. She wasn't used to going about her day alone, not used to being so unoccupied, so bored. 

The silence was too eerie for Mapi as she sat on the sofa, even Baloo and Bagheera suffering from the absence of the energetic and excitable child and the calming Norwegian.

But they were in Norway, perfectly content away from home and without the comfort of their Mapi, right there whenever they wanted it.

It was devastating, really, realising that Isabel didn't need her anymore. It felt like just yesterday that she had sobbed her heart out at Alexia's, only calming down when her Mami was in sight, content to be warmed by the tattooed arms.

Apparently, Ingrid noticed the way Mapi's eyes glazed over slightly, her features softening as she read the situation with practiced ease.

"It would have been warmer with Mami here though, right?"

Isabel frowned slightly, looking at her mother through the phone screen.

She nodded, looking back up at Ingrid.

"Mami has the warmest arms, Ingrid. She makes me so warm."

Mapi had to hold back her tears, smiling gratefully at Ingrid who could only nod with pride.

"You make me warm too, my lion cub."

~~~~~~

Their phone call with Mapi lasted a while, she stayed on facetime as they both changed and as Ingrid braided Isabel's hair back for the day. She was very proud of herself, wearing a Norway jersey that Ingrid had adjusted to fit her. It was a match worn one and was entirely too big when she first put it on, but she refused to wear anything else to support Ingrid when she was playing with her country.

Ingrid had pulled out her sewing needles, shortening the length and sleeves. It still swallowed the child, but at least she could wear it without the hem getting in the way of her legs when she walked.

She was excited to show off the big 7 on her back, the name that belonged to her Ingrid.

It was her claim to the brunette in front of all the Norwegian players and she was so sure they would be so impressed that she was so close with their coveted midfielder.

She had a grin on her face as they went through the Norwegian phrases she had learnt and as she pestered Ingrid about the different players that she would be meeting today. She knew Caro, of course, but that was all. She had seen the others on TV, from a distance when she came to watch with Mapi.

But not once had she met any of them, always slightly anxious around new people and entirely unconfident in her Norwegian speaking and comprehending abilities. She never believed Mapi or Ingrid when they told her it would be ok, that Ingrid could translate.

It was Norwegian or nothing for the child.

Ingrid assumed that was the reason why Isabel's grip on her hand tightened significantly as they walked down the corridor. She assumed it was why her leg suddenly became the best hiding spot the child could think of.

There was no other explanation as to why her entire demeanour changed as soon as they left the room, from the excited and optimistic child she knew to an anxious and stoic child that she could barely recognise.

She knew better than to say anything though, knowing that if she started crying now she likely wouldn't stop until they were alone again. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option for Ingrid because she had to train, she couldn't just sit with Isabel all day.

As much as she would love to.

It was on purpose that they were the first in the dining room for breakfast, allowing them to make their way through the buffet slowly and sit on an empty table.

Isabel perked up when she noticed the empty room but it was only brief as slowly, all of the players trickled in, their voices loud and fast.

Ingrid squeezed the little girl closer to her, her heart breaking at the way Isabel tensed in her lap.

"Look, Is!" Ingrid pointed over at the door. "Caro's just arrived!"

She forced on a smile, her hands shaking and her breathing rapid.

"Hei, Caro." She whispered softly, not registering that the familiar face was on the other side of the room, completely occupied by the unfamiliar figure approaching.

"Ingrid." She tugged on the brunette's shorts, reaching her arms towards her. Ingrid understood exactly what she was asking for, pulling her onto her lap and wrapping her arms around her.

It was Frida who sat beside Ingrid, smiling as she placed her plate on the table and pulled her chair in.

"It's just Frida, Is, she's not scary at all." The brunette smiled apologetically at Frida as she loosened her hold on Isabel, encouraging her to look at the blonde.

She turned, a shy smile on her face as she leaned into Ingrid.

"Hi Isabel!" She grinned, quickly making Isabel more comfortable. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you! Ingrid has told me so much about you."

She spoke in slow Norwegian, praying that the child would understand. She had heard all about her problems with confidence in the language - it was the only reason she hadn't met her before.

The blonde felt herself relax in relief as Isabel nodded, replying in hesitant Norwegian.

"Nice to meet you, Frida."

Ingrid grinned, placing a kiss on the top of Isabel's head which prompted the child to look up for affirmation.

"Good?"

"Perfect, Is! I'm so proud of you."

Frida could only smile at their interaction, completely aware of how much Ingrid adored the little girl, how much she worried that she would never be enough for her.

Frida knew she was more than enough. 

The table filled up slowly, but Isabel buried her head back into Ingrid again, apparently too scared to meet anyone else during breakfast. It changed slightly as they left the dining hall when she spotted Caro from afar, scampering over to the familiar forward and barging into the back of her legs.

Ingrid thanked her Barcelona teammate when Isabel was deposited at her room maybe five minutes later, waving goodbye to the child.

They didn't have long in the room, just enough time for Ingrid to change into her training clothes and quickly throw some paper, pencils and snacks in Isabel's backpack.

"If you get bored or tired or feel sick or anything, min elske, come straight to me, alright? Or you can find Caro if you want but make sure you tell someone so we can help you, alright?"

It was the same deal as at Barcelona training. Her time spent at training had decreased dramatically since starting school and usually Camila was there with her, but she would always sit on a rug under the same tree, occupying herself with drawing or colouring or another miscellaneous activity when she became bored of watching the football.

Usually, Baloo was right beside her, her leash tied onto the tree which allowed her a little bit of room to roam freely when Isabel wasn't holding her favourite animal.

But Baloo wasn't there and neither were the people that Isabel knew, the people she was comfortable enough with to say when something was wrong. Usually, things didn't go wrong.

But it was clear that the child was on edge, her emotions all over the place as she adjusted to Norway and all these new people.

"Phone to call Mami?"

She looked up hopefully and Ingrid smiled, putting her phone in the front pocket of the bag.

"To call Mami, Is. Don't play with this because if it breaks we won't be able to talk to her at all!"

Isabel nodded, letting Ingrid put the backpack on her back.

"Go time?"

The midfielder nodded, ignoring Isabel's hand that reached out to grab Ingrid and instead picking her up, settling her on her hip and holding her easily with one hand.

"Mami says I'm too big to be carried, Ingrid."

Ingrid laughed quietly, planting a soft kiss on her head.

"Maybe. But you'll always be our little girl."

~~~~~~

It turned out that Ingrid was worried for a good reason.

She had kept an eye on Isabel for most of training as she watched them train, as she did her drawing. She watched some, drew for a bit, over and over again. It was a cycle, really, and she wasn't getting bored.

But apparently she tried to call Mapi and Mapi didn't pick up.

That is where the tears had come from. That is why Caro had run the few metres over immediately picking her up and carrying her out of the view of the rest of the Norwegian players, Ingrid following quickly behind. 

She was inconsolable because she wanted to talk to her Mami, because she missed her Mami.

Mapi said she would pick up the phone when she called, she had promised her child that she was the most important thing in her life and that she would drop anything if she saw Ingrid's name come up on her phone.

It was why Isabel had been so keen to come to Norway, reassured over and over again that if anything went wrong, if she was sad, scared or just wanted to hear Mapi's voice she would be able to call and hear it.

But she had called and Mapi hadn't picked up. She remembers frowning, looking around and calling again.

And again.

And again.

By the fourth time, her hands were shaking.

By the fifth, she had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling so much.

By the sixth, there were tears in her eyes, beginning to slowly slip down her face.

But the seventh was the final straw, it seemed, and as soon as the straw was pulled out the child collapsed into sobs. Cries for her Mami, for her home.

Loud cries in Spanish, desperate for the home comfort of being able to speak her first language without worrying about any language barriers. 

Crying because she called seven times and Mapi hadn't picked up once. She said she would drop anything, because Isabel was the most important. She promised.

But she didn't.

Maybe she'd been in Norway too long. Maybe Mapi realised how much easier her life was without her daughter, how much better.

It was only day one. 

She knew she missed home, but it felt so far away.

Even as Ingrid held her close and rocked her as she had done so many times before. As she whispered quiet Spanish as the cries quietened down, allowing Isabel to whimper in her arms instead. 

"M-mami didn't pick up, Ingrid." The hurt in her voice was almost painful for Ingrid to hear. "Mami has more important things now I'm gone from her."

Immediately, Ingrid shook her head because there was no way she would let Isabel think that was true in even the slightest. 

Because everybody in Mapi's life knew that the little girl she called her daughter was the number one top priority at all times. There were never excuses, never changes. 

She was Mapi's everything and Ingrid knew that if the Spaniard caught wind of her daughter thinking this she would be completely and utterly heartbroken. 

It wasn't true. 

It was perhaps one of the most blindingly false statements Ingrid had ever heard. 

"That is not true, Isabel, and I don't want you to ever think or say that again."

Her voice was stern and left no room for questions and Isabel whimpered quietly.

"Mami loves you so, so much, Is. You will always be the most important thing in her life."

Her voice softened easily, but she frowned as Isabel held up seven of her fingers. 

"This many times. She didn't pick up."

Ingrid adjusted Isabel's position, facing her and looking her straight in the eye. 

"She might be driving, she might have left her phone in her room. She didn't ignore you, I promise."

The child looked up at her, the tearful eyes hopeful. 

"Promise?"

She held out her pinky which Ingrid shook gently. 

"I promise."

~~~~~~

Ingrid thinks that the whole incident may have been what triggered the homesickness. 

She wasn't sleeping in her own bed at all, only settling after hours of fidgeting and whimpering in Ingrid's arms, waking up after a couple hours of restless sleep.  

She was tearful all the time, always clinging onto Ingrid, reluctantly releasing her whenever she had to train. 

She only ate what was practically forced down her throat, claiming she was full, that she didn't feel hungry. 

Mapi thinks it is her fault, she shouldn't have gone to the wedding, she should have picked up the phone that day. It's all she can think about as she sits through the ceremony, almost booking a flight from her seat at the reception. 

But Ingrid was telling her not to, that it'd all be ok. She could deal with it for a few more days while the wedding was still on and Mapi could come afterwards if she wasn't getting any better.

But Ingrid desperately wanted to prove she could do this, she wanted to show Mapi and everyone else that she was a perfectly sufficient guardian to Isabel too. She had been there for so long but people still questioned it, questioned why she was so close with the little girl. 

It seemed so obvious to the Norwegian. She loved Mapi, she loved Isabel. Surely a further explanation was unnecessary. 

Mapi was entirely ridden with guilt, having left her phone in her hotel room as she reunited with her family. It was stupid, she knew, but she just hadn't been thinking. 

Ingrid's attempts to stop her from beating herself up about it were futile, especially since Isabel stopped trying to call, only speaking to Mapi when Ingrid held her and called the centre back before bed. 

She was scared, she didn't want to experience that rejection again. 

Match day came and so did Gudrun, only allowed into the hotel that morning so Ingrid could focus on the game. She was starting and the staff had told her no distractions, not until after the game was finished. 

Isabel loved Gudrun, the older Norwegian always spoiling and doting over the little girl with the bright eyes and big smile. It was unusual for Ingrid's mother to see Isabel so sad, so stoic when she arrived, malleable in Ingrid's arms as she was passed off. 

"She's homesick, Mama." Ingrid frowned and Gudrun could only stroke the top of her head. "She misses Mapi but won't call because there was an incident a few days ago where Mapi didn't pick up."

Gudrun smiled weakly, trying to silently reassure her daughter. 

"She'll be alright." She looked down at the child. "Have you had fun with Ingrid this week?"

Isabel looked over at the tall Norwegian who tried to hide the exhaustion from her face. It had been another restless night. 

She nodded easily, smiling. 

"Ingrid holds me when I can't sleep. And she let me use her as my climbing frame all week. So much fun with Ingrid."

Ingrid could have cried but she held it back, Gudrun smiling proudly at her daughter. 

"Ingrid is one of my favourite people in the world."

Isabel agreed easily. 

"Me too!" 

Gudrun hugged her daughter goodbye, letting Isabel place a kiss on her cheek before they left, heading out to the park for the few hours they had before the game. 

She played on the playground for a bit but retreated back to Gudrun when she couldn't communicate with the other children. All the people she had spoken to so far slowed down, aware that she was a Spanish child and Norwegian was her second or third language. 

The strangers on the playground didn't know that, so they couldn't communicate. 

And the Norwegian could easily read the situation as Isabel flopped onto the bench beside her, her sigh entirely too emotional for a four year old 

"What's bothering you, Isabel?"

She huffed again, climbing into Gudrun's lap and leaning backwards. 

"I miss Mami and Spain." She missed playing in the park with other kids, she missed being able to sit between Mapi and Ingrid after dinner, watching cartoons. She missed Patri and Pina teasing her and she missed Alexia and Frido's hugs. She missed the familiarity of home and she missed knowing all the players at training. She missed the freedom she had at the Barcelona campus and she missed her dog and cat. 

"I know you do. Mami and Spain miss you too."

But Isabel frowned, still stuck on the reason why her Mami didn't pick up the phone even though she tried so many times. 

"But-" She trailed off but Gudrun hummed encouragingly. "But Mami said she would pick up..."

Gudrun sighed quietly, hugging the child closer. 

"That doesn't mean she doesn't miss you, Isabel. She misses you so much."

"I haven't seen her in so long, I am scared she forgot."

"Forgot what?" Gudrun frowned easily, concerned about where her thoughts were. 

"Me." Isabel's voice was impossibly quiet as her eyes filled up with tears and Gudrun's heart broke at how small she sounded. 

She had a split second to decide how to deal with this. She could pass the problem onto Ingrid or Mapi, or she could deal with it herself and maybe help out the young couple. She could smile and tell Isabel that everything was perfect and happy and Mapi loved her or she could be more serious and try to get through to the child. 

So she sighed, adjusting Isabel on her lap so they were looking at each other. 

"I'm Ingrid's Mami, you know that right?"

Isabel nodded, staring up at the Norwegian. 

"And I live in Norway. Ingrid lives in Spain with you, doesn't she?"

The child nodded again, unsure where this was going. 

"Ingrid moved away when she was young, a long time ago. And I was so sad. So sad. I missed her every single day and my heart hurt because my little girl didn't feel like my little girl anymore. She had grown up."

"Mami said I would always be her little girl."

Isabel frowned, not able to draw any comparisons.

"And Ingrid is still mine. But like Ingrid did, you're growing up. This is your first time away from your Mami, and you are so far away from her for such a long time."

Isabel nodded. 

"I miss Mami a lot."

"Ingrid's first time away from home was when she was 11, a week in a place 4 hours away. I cried every night because I missed my little girl so much. And I know your Mami is the same. She is so sad without you, Is. You are so little and you are all she cares about. You are absolutely everything to your Mami and she misses every single thing about you."

Isabel's lip trembles, her eyes beginning to water. 

"And she missed your calls. She is so angry with herself because she didn't pick up because she would have much preferred to talk to you than to talk to anyone at that wedding. You are so important to her and you always will be. Just like Ingrid is so important to me."

Isabel nodded, taking a deep breath.

"You talk to Ingrid whenever she calls?"

Gudrun nodded easily. 

"And I get so excited because I love talking to her so much. But sometimes I miss calls too. Sometimes Ingrid gets upset and I am angry at myself. I love her so much and instead of picking up her calls I was busy with something that was nowhere near as important. Because nothing is as important to me as my children. Since they were born and until I die, they will always be first. And do you know why?"

"Because you love them." 

Gudrun nodded. 

"Because I love them." She confirmed with a nod. "And Mami missed your call, but she didn't mean to. I have missed Ingrid's calls before even though I love her so much."

"Mami loves me."

Gudrun smiled, pulling her in for a hug. 

"Yes, Mami loves you so so much. She misses how you feel in her arms, she misses the way you smell, she misses the way your eyes light up when you see something that excites you. She misses catching you when you run into her after school, she misses holding you after a game and watching you with her friends."

"How do you know all this."

"Because I am a Mami too. Mami's are all the same, we all love every single thing about our children."

Isabel nodded, silent for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

"Does Ingrid... does she love me like that too? Because I think I love her like I love Mami."

Gudrun squeezed her tighter, not a shadow of a doubt in her answer. There was no hesitation whatsoever.

"Of course she does."

Isabel was quiet again. Ingrid was Ingrid. She wasn't Mami, because that was Mapi. She wasn't Mama... because she was Ingrid.

But why was she just Ingrid? Why wasn't she Mama. She was like Mapi, really. She played a lot, cooked meals. Dropped her at school and picked her up sometimes too. 

She had rules for Isabel, things she could and could not do. When Isabel broke the rules, she would tell her off, just like Mapi would. She would give her consequences, although she was much better at sticking to them than Mapi. 

Isabel knew she didn't have a Papi like her friends at school. She had a Mami instead. 

And an Ingrid. 

"I think I love Ingrid like a Mami too."

~~~~~~

Apparently, Gudrun's words got through to Isabel, who insisted on calling her mother as soon as they were at the stadium. 

The Norwegian happily obliged, dialling her daughter's girlfriend and sighing in relief when the call immediately connected. It wasn't facetime, so Mapi couldn't see her daughter's beaming face, or the fact they were already sat in their seats in the family and friends section. 

"Gudrun?"

"Mami? Holaaa!"

The Spaniard's entire body relaxed right then and there, after what feels like months of worrying that her daughter hated her, that she would never forgive her. She had been so tense for the past few days, completely occupied by her anxieties. 

"My Is." Gudrun could hear the relief in her voice. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you too Mami." She frowned at the phone, looking up at Gudrun. "Where is she?"

The Norwegian frowned. 

"At home, Isabel, in Spain." 

But Isabel shook her head, pointing at the phone. 

"Her face?"

Mapi understood before Gudrun, quickly switching to a facetime call. 

"There she is!" Mapi beamed and her daughter returned the expression. "My little girl."

Isabel's smile grew and she leant back into Gudrun's embrace. 

"I'm your little girl." She sighed contentedly. "I love you Mami."

"I love you so much." She waited for Isabel to nod before continuing. "And I want you to know something, Is."

"What?"

"You are the most important thing in the whole entire world. You are my number one. Always."

Isabel just nodded casually. 

"I know."

Mapi was taken aback, surprised by her child's casual demeanour. She had expected to have to do some persuasion, based on the reports she was getting from Ingrid every night. The reports that had broken her heart over and over again, stomping on it and kicking it around.

"How do you- I mean, it's good you kno- it's true."

Isabel smiled happily at her mother's stuttering. 

"Gudrun told me that all Mami's are the same, and she loves Ingrid a whole lot. Ingrid is very important. It means that I matter most to you, like Ingrid matters most to her."

Mapi smiled gratefully at the camera, making a note to thank her girlfriend's mother profusely when she was off the phone call. 

"You are so right, my lion cub."

They stayed on the phone call throughout the whole game, Isabel flipping the camera as Ingrid walked out onto the field so Mapi could watch, her daughter's commentary right in the speaker as the game continued. 

She was still at the wedding, but had the afternoon in her room alone before the final ceremony that night as the game finished, she started to get ready, still on the facetime call as Gudrun lead Isabel down towards the field and as she was lifted over the barricade into Ingrid's arms. 

"It's Mami, Ingrid!"

The Norwegian was exhausted, sweaty and sore, but all she could feel was pure relief. 

Because Isabel was beaming, not a tear in sight. She was on the phone to Mapi which meant she had asked to call her because Ingrid told Gudrun to not bring it up - it had been a soft topic over the past couple of days. 

But there she was, her girlfriend all dressed up, hair and makeup done. 

It was the antithesis of Ingrid, really, her post match appearance a stark contrast to Mapi's pre dinner one. 

But both women felt nothing but happiness in that moment, relief washing over them as they realised everything was ok. Isabel was happy again, for now at least. 

They had four more days in Norway, the homesicknesses would surely make it's return at some point, but now she had Mapi to talk to whenever she wanted. Somehow her entire attitude had changed over the past few hours, apparently an easy switch that Ingrid just hadn't been able to find. 

But one look at her mother with a proud and satisfied smile settled upon her face told Ingrid everything she needed to know. 

So as Isabel scampered over to Caro, the phone still in her hand, Ingrid moved towards her mother, thanking her profusely as she hugged her tight. 

"I had no idea how much that little girl loves you, Ingrid."

Ingrid frowned. "What?"

She had told her so many times about the love she had for Isabel, the love that was so clearly reciprocated. 

"It's an exponential love, growing so quickly. She is a good girl, I am so proud of you."

Her frown changed quickly into a smile, her eyes filling up with tears. 

"Thank you, Mama."

She felt like Gudrun had no idea how much her daughter needed that affirmation, the encouragement that she was something to Isabel, someone important. 

But Gudrun knew. Of course she did. 

~~~~~~

Ingrid finally felt relaxed, the child dozing off slowly in her arms, finally relieved of all her sadness and stress. Her hands carded through the child's curly hair, whispering soft affirmations in her ears to send her to sleep. 

She was less restless that night, but still insistent on sleeping with Ingrid, her own bed so cold and empty on the other side of the room. 

But she was happy, finally, and for the first time since landing in Norway, Ingrid felt confident that she could do it. She could do it without Mapi, no matter how hard it was. She was more than just Mapi’s girlfriend, she was a real guardian of her child.

"Good night, Is. I love you so much."

Isabel hummed contentedly, snuggling closer into Ingrid's warm body. 

"I love you too, Mama."

The Norwegian could only freeze, her eyes filling up with happy tears, placing a kiss on the child's small head. 

Because Isabel hadn't been prompted at all. She meant it, she really saw Ingrid as her mother. 

And that meant the world to the Norwegian, who had spent so much time worrying that she would never be enough for the child, that she would always be an outsider within their little family, despite Mapi's intense efforts to try and reassure her that she was wrong. 

And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of Ingrid finally understanding that she really could be part of their little family.

Or even better, she would realise that she already was.

Ingrid: She called me Mama. I can't believe she called me Mama. 

Mapi: I can.  You are her Mama. She loves you so much.

~~~~~~ sorry this took so long and hope you enjoyed! 

tell me what you think!!

have a good day :)

[moongreenlight]

More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

[landosjpg]

‘tis the damn season | ln

the one where you go back to your hometown just to end up in lando's bed.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.3k

warnings: ex-bf!lando, little bit of angst & fluff, implied smut

note: part 2 of this blurb series i have going on rn, it’s not proofread so there might be some spelling mistakes!

you looked at the screen of your phone absolutely perplexed, reading the simple conversation over and over again.

"heard you're back in town?"

"i'm sorry, who's this?

"lando."

you couldn't believe that was actually happening.

it had been years since you and lando had last seen each other, or even talked. growing up in the same town, you had been friends since early childhood, and you had grown together with your group of friends.

you also happened to date him for a year before you had decided to move to L.A for your studies, and with him also making his move up to f1, you had decided to call it quits.

and when you left, you never heard of him again.

you had been out of the country for a little over five years, and had never came back til that very christmas. flights from california to england were not only expensive, but also a lot of time; so you had never found yourself in the right state of mind to go back to your hometown, having your family and friends visit you instead some times.

from what your friends had told you, lando had lost contact with everyone in your old friend group, so how on earth did he even findd out?

"my parents told me, they saw your mum at the store yesterday."

the answer to your question came as he double texted at the lack of a reply from your side. you sighed, not sure where he was going with all that.

"just came back a few days ago."

"are you free tonight? haven't seen you in forever."

straight to the point, classic lando.

"can't, i'm staying with my parents. they probably want to have dinner together."

you knew it wasn't a great excuse, but you hoped he would accept it and move on with his life.

part of you wanted to accept his invitation, it had been so long since you had last seen him. as you looked at your screen, you reminisced your relationship with him.

you had dated other people during those years, but even on the other side of the world, you sometimes thought no one would ever make you feel the way he used to do, no one would even know you the way he did.

the rational part of you knew it wasn't a great idea. in the end, you were leaving again in just a few weeks. and you didn't want to go back to your new life with the "what would've been..?" question lingering on your mind.

୨୧

you knew lando could be persuasive. but you thought he wouldn't have much of an effect in you after so many years.

silly you.

he had convinced you to come over to his place in the matter of a few minutes, claiming that his parents were out of town for the weekend and he would appreciate some company.

you parked your car between your old school and the town's church, the place where you and lando would usually meet when you were younger.

sighing, you left your car and started walking the cold streets that led to his house.

the same path you used to follow every other day a few years ago, but this time you weren't sure what was waiting for you there. and it was too late to retreat when you knocked on the door and a smiling lando welcomed you inside from the other side of the door.

he looked different.

more mature, and definitely a lot more handsome than you remembered.

he had ordered something for you two to eat, and with a movie on the background, you talked for hours, time flying by without you even noticing.

you were sat on his couch, one bottle of wine gone during your joyful chatter; and with the alcohol getting to your head, you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his body, sighing contently.

you looked up at him, a smile creeping up to your lips when you saw him staring back at you.

"what's with this?" you giggled, scratching his chin, amused at his attempt of growing a beard.

"hey," he pretended to be offended, poking on your side with his index, which made you squirm. "it's not that bad."

"i didn't say it was," you answered, "you look hot."

the words slipped out of your mouth before you could ever think about it, and a pink flush quickly painted your cheeks as you mentally slapped yourself.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to..." you tried to make the situation less awkward, but his hand cupped your cheek and forced you to look back at him again.

he was leaning into you, and your breath caught in your throat at the proximity between your faces. a deep, shaky breath left your lips as you looked into his piercing eyes.

"is this okay?" he asked, his voice low and husky. and fuck, was it inviting.

you nodded your head, not able to form a proper sentence, or even a word. and he broke the distance between your lips, crashing his mouth against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

you sighed against his mouth before you let you hands and lips do all the talking and soon he was guiding you into his room with his arms around your waist.

୨୧

a few hours later you found yourself walking back into his room, your hair messy as you put your clothes back on. he smiled at you from under the covers, having gotten in bed already.

you chuckled at the sight of him, tucked under the blankets with messy curls and sleepy eyes. and it reminded you of all the previous times you had spent with him in that very same bed, your heart growing fond of the sight before you.

"you're not staying?" his question caught you by surprise, making you stop gathering your things to turn to look at him.

"what?"

"you're not staying?" he repeated, as if you hadn't heard him the first time. but you were still as surprised.

"no," you simply mumbled, sitting on the edge of his bed to put your boots back on.

"come on, y/n," you felt his weigth shifting closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist and his lips pressing a tender kiss on your hip, over your jeans.

it wasn't a good idea, spending the night with him. you knew that much.

"it's late and it's cold outside, you can leave in the morning," he added, not letting you reject his offer again.

and the softness of his voice with the puppy eyes he was giving you, could've made you do anything he asked for.

he smiled when you didn't reply, knowing that you weren't going to turn him down again. you rolled your eyes with a smile and changed into the shirt he was offering for you to be more comfortable.

his shirt.

and you knew you shouldn't have come to his house in the first place. you knew you shouldn't have slept with him and surely, you should've left instead of crawling back into his arms, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as you lied with your head on his chest.

because you knew you would leave again in only a few weeks; and having a taste of what could've been if you didn't run away years earlier would only lead to breaking your very own heart.

but you sighed and snuggled closer to him, nuzzling your face on his chest and allowing yourself to be his, just for the weekend.

[honeyhenry]

Apple Pie and You and I

A little story of the Seresins aka Hangman being a softie for his girl. Fluff, no warnings, please enjoy!

Jake Seresin, a lone star state boy through and though, always found himself feeling closer to home with a warm apple pie and a country song playing with a gentle thrum on his Pop’s old record player in the room next door.

The only time he felt closer to a sense of home was with you - his lovely lady who had managed to lure and capture the Hangman hook line and sinker by batting her pretty lashes and making him work hard for her attention. It had taken him 3 weeks of smirks that turned to smiles, and insistence that turned into nothing shy of begging, for you to agree to a date. The only holding back he’d done was in omitting to state the thought that had urged him to act in the first place; “Oh, she's gonna be my wife someday.”

The typically cocksure brazen pilot hadn’t the need to utter those words for another 14 months, past the utterly exclusive dating period, nor in between months of loved up sweetness and the pained inevitability of month-long deployments. He’d told you the very moment after his 1 month deployment - which had extended into 7 and a half weeks - of a monogamous routine, where a few pictures and fond memories were just not cutting it any more.

The tarmac had scratched the khaki material of his bags as he'd dropped them with a heavy thud to the ground, only eager to reach your arms sooner. Your little sundress catching in the soft wind, the warmth of the sun heating your cheeks and nose as he engulfs you in his arms, holding tight before he'd pulled his head away to take a proper long look at your pretty face - and then brought your lips to his. He'd kissed you over and over and over, the smile on his face growing every time, your eyes clear and watering, having waited for this moment.

And quietly, once the decision was made to catch your breaths, he'd whispered, lips ghosting over yours, that you were it for him. That he was going to marry you.

According to the Navy, Hangman had no one at home, no next of kin unless you provided the contacts of his parents down in their ranch a few states away should there ever be the need for the passing over of belongings and dog tags to fatefully occur. But Jake Seresin? He had a whole life to get back to; one he needed to kick start with a ring and a question.

The ring itself would be an heirloom, no doubt about it, and had required a trip back to Texas to see his family and share with them his upcoming plans. Having met you a handful of times over Christmas and on big family birthdays, the Seresins were entirely on board. Jake's Momma had given him a close hug with tears in her eyes while his Dad and siblings cheered and grinned the classic Seresin smile. Their family often grew each year, but his Momma and Grammie had worried that their headstrong, flirtatious boy would get too caught up in the ways of the world to settle down. He was a softie at heart, and you had been the best thing to ever happen to him.

They adored you. Enough for Grammie to take her grandson into her study, and open the jewellery box safely nestled inside a locked cupboard door. "This one is a diamond", she'd said as she'd taken out a piece." It's been in the family since before I was born. It's even got the family name engraved inside." Jake had taken it, listening respectfully to his Grammie but still lost in the thought of how the ring would look so beautiful on your finger. Thinking of you being his, forever.

That had been 18 months ago now, and the glinting stone on your ring finger, alongside a shiny golden wedding band, showing that all had gone to plan. Hangman proudly wears his ring too, occasionally looping it around his dog tags if need be. However currently, in the Lone Star state, the dog tags are off and his ring fits snugly on his fourth finger as he holds you close.

It's campfire night at the ranch, and you sit on his lap, curled in and admiring the way his face has caught the sun, inspecting every detail of him in the glow of the fire he had helped to start. He looks between his family; uncles, cousins, grandparents, now and then but his main focus is always you. Your hands clasp his left one as he uses the other to nurse a beer after working up a sweat teaching his youngest nephews to play football earlier that day. It had been so endearing to watch as you'd prepared the barbecue and baked fresh cookies using the special Seresin recipe, with his Momma and sisters.

"I got the recipe from your Mom, for the cookies, so we can have them at home." You'd whispered sweetly as the chatter around the fire continued. "Do you know", Jake murmured, looking deep into your eyes as his green ones pierced into your soul. "Do you know how much I love you?"

Your giggle had been soft and the eye roll that followed made Jake smirk lovingly. Still in awe of how he got the girl that barely spoke to him but was still batting her lashes and playing hard to get. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing the point just above where your rings lay on your finger.

"The kids'll love 'em. You're gonna be a great Mom." He stops smirking and now looks at you, fully focused with a soft, genuine smile. Placing the beer down, he rests his hand on your stomach, underneath the sweatshirt of his you've borrowed that splashes the words University of Texas, Austin on the front. It's old and thinning out but it smells of Jake, so it's something you will happily bask in and nap in and snuggle in until you have to leave his family home once more.

"Shhhh. I already think Grammie knows", you scold him. And she does. Grammie knows and as his Momma watches the two of you interact now, she's certain that she knows too. Call it a Mother's instinct. Jake's little check-ins throughout the day had not gone unnoticed, nor had your daily naps that you blamed on the heat, despite it only being the middle of May.

"But Grammie knows everything, a few more days and I can finally tell 'em all. Been dyin' to sweetheart." His hand rubs your stomach gently, not to raise suspicion but also to comfort you. Sure, as the cookies and apple pie were brought out, he had felt a little nostalgia, but with you in his lap wearing his ring, and his baby in your belly, Jake Seresin had never felt more at home than in that moment.

[alotofpockets]

From dreams to diapers | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Arsenal!Reader & Lotte Wubben-Moy x Best Friend!Reader

Prompts: "Twins? We're having twins?" & "You're great with kids."

Warnings: Pregnant Alessia, morning sickness, and a whole lot of fluff :)

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.3k

You had met Alessia when the both of you made the squad at UNC. You found comfort in being surrounded by a piece of home in both her and your other teammate Lotte, the three of you being the only girls in the squad that were from the UK. The connection with both girls was great, over time Alessia had become your girlfriend, and Lotte your best friend. 

The three of you made it to the England U15 squad together, and continued to grow up together moving up all the way to the seniors team. While you all played together for country, you had signed with different clubs in the UK. Lotte was the first that signed with Arsenal, you followed a few years later, and Alessia had signed for the club last year. Playing for the same club, and all living in the same city was such a great feeling.

Ever since you started dating Alessia, the two of you had talked about wanting children together in the future. Alessia made the move to Arsenal, when the talk of starting a family started to get more real. Sure, it had always been real but now you both felt like you were ready to actually start a family. The talking started to be less about the general idea, and more about the practical side.

After many consults, and conversations between the two of you, you had decided that Alessia would carry. The striker was more than happy to put her career on hold to get your little family started. You had started the process of getting pregnant a few months ago now, a box of pregnancy tests always present in the house. So far you had only gotten negative results, you both knew it wasn't likely for her to get pregnant right away, so you patiently waited for the day that a test would show a positive result.

A couple weeks later, you wake up to Alessia running to the bathroom. You quickly follow her, and hold her hair up as she’s leaned over the toilet, your hands rub soothing circles over her back. Your wife leans her back against the wall, relishing in the coldness of the tiles against her back. Before you get up to get her a glass of water, you place a soft kiss on her forehead. “Should we check?” A question you had asked her many times over the past few months. 

While you wait for the pregnancy test to be ready, you cuddle up in bed together, holding your wife close. Your alarm lets you know that the test is ready to be checked. Alessia grabs the test from her bedside table, the result face down. “Ready, baby?” You smile at her, before you lean in and kiss her, “Now I’m ready.” Alessia slowly turns the test around, it feels like time stops for a moment when you read the word positive. You slowly lift your head up to look at your wife, who looks at you with matching teary eyes. The both of you are too overwhelmed with emotions to speak, so you just fall into each other's arms. “We’re going to be parents.” You say still in disbelief, when you finally find your voice again. “We’re going to be parents.” Alessia says back, the smile on her face growing.

The two of you stay in the bed a lot longer than you usually did on days you had training, neither one of you wanting to end the moment. But as training got closer, you knew you had to. “Do you feel okay going to training? If not I can call Jonas.” Alessia pecks your lips, “I’m okay to go, thank you though.” She could already tell that you were going to be very protective of her during this pregnancy. 

You kept exchanging love sick glances with Alessia, while the both of you were basking in the moment of the two of you being the only ones in the world that knew that Alessia was pregnant. However, the love sick glances didn’t go unnoticed to your best friend. “What’s up with the two of you?” She asks as the two of you walk up the water bottles. “Nothing.” Your reaction was way too quick for Lotte to believe a word that was coming out of your mouth. “Oh, something is going on.” Her mind starts going over the list of things that her two best friends could be up to, until her eyes widened with a possible explanation for your quick response. “Omg, are you preg-” Your hand was on her mouth before she could finish her sentence, sending her a warning look before you slowly removed your hand again. You weren’t able to hold back the smile that was forming on your face, enough proof for Lotte to know that she was right. She pulls you into a hug, “I am so happy for you both.” She whispers in your direction before joining the rest of the girls again. 

Lotte went with the both of you to all of the doctors appointments, she declared herself the videographer of your journey, and you accepted her role glady. That’s how the three of you found yourself in the doctor's office one morning, ready for an ultrasound. You sat by Alessia, holding her hand, while Lotte stood to the side with her phone ready to film. The doctor applied the gel to Alessia’s belly, and started moving the machine around. Both of you look at the screen in awe, trying to figure out what you were looking at, but knowing that it was a little miracle whether you were able to figure it out yourselves or not. 

“So, here we have the baby.” She points to the screen. Tears start filling your eyes, it was still early in the pregnancy, so you hadn’t seen the baby on the screen just yet. You give Alessia’s hand a squeeze and kiss her forehead. “And then here we have another baby.” Your jaw drops, "Twins? We're having twins?" The doctor smiles at the two of you, “Yes, you’re having twins.” Alessia’s emotions get the best of her as well, as her tears start flowing as well. “I’ll give you all a moment.” The doctor says as she hands you the sonogram. You both stare at the pictures in disbelief. “We’re going to have two babies.” Alessia says in a whisper. You nod with a big smile on your face. The two of you share a long hug, meanwhile Lotte is filming the interaction with tears in her eyes. She was overjoyed for her two best friends, having been along on this journey between the both of you since day one.

The next day at practice you had told the team, and showed them the sonograms. Everyone was overjoyed for the both of you, hugs and congratulations were shared in big numbers, and you couldn’t be happier. After you had told both your families, there was only one more thing to do, and that was to tell the world.

------

alessiarusso99 and y/nrusso posted

Liked by lottewubbenmoy and 94,558 others

alessiarusso99: We've got some exciting news to share. I can't believe our dream of starting a family is finally coming true❤️

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y/nrusso: So ready for this new adventure with you❤️

lottewubbenmoy: I'm gonna be an autie!

↳ alessiarusso99: The best auntie :)

↳ leahwilliamsonn: Already playing favoritism...

↳ lottewubbenmoy: Best friend privileges😋

user1: WAIT TWO BABY OUTFITS, ARE THEY HAVING TWINS??

Liked by y/nrusso

↳ user2: OMG y/n liked

leahwilliamsonn: Congrats to the both of you 😘

arsenalwfc: more baby Gooners!

------

The response to your announcement was incredible, the overwhelming amount of love and that was thrown your way enough to make you tear up. 

After talking with your OB-GYN and with your own trainers, you had set up a schedule for Alessia. She could continue her training for a while longer, but since soccer was a contact sport, the OB-GYN recommended to stop playing matches two weeks from now, and that in the meantime, Alessia could still play, but not a full match.

That’s how you found yourself the next week, the last match Alessia would play before the twins would arrive. After consulting with the trainers, you had decided that Alessia would start and play only the first half. You were happy to walk the field with Alessia by your side, knowing that was going to be something you were going to be missing dearly over the next few months. You walk up to the side line of the field and wait for Alessia and Lotte to join you. You stand in the middle of them and link your arms with them, jumping over the line together. A pre-game ritual the three of you had started back in college, followed by national team matches, and since you all played together for Arsenal, the ritual was brought there too.

The match was going well, you were glad it wasn’t a very physical match so far, for the sake of Alessia and the babies. You manage to intercept a ball and run towards your opponents goal with it, lifting your eyes to see who was with you, when you saw that Alessia was running forward as well. With a calculated kick, the ball goes flying to her feet. You watch as she kicks the ball to the back of the net, running her way to celebrate the goal with her. After a quick hug, you fall to your knees, and place a kiss on her belly. The first goal you ever dedicated to the babies. Alessia pulls you back in for a hug, before you are met with your teammates from all angles. 

Just five more minutes left in the first half when your team earned a corner. Katie takes it and the ball comes flying your way at the back post. You jump up and head the ball into the goal, just slightly out of reach of the goalkeeper. Your eyes met Alessia’s and you knew what you needed to do. You slide down and place another kiss on her tummy, now both babies had a goal dedicated to them. The rest of the match went great and you ended up winning 4-1. All in all, a great match for Alessia to end on. 

While you continued training and playing matches, you were also taking care of your wife, and getting the house ready for the twins. The girls came over often, helping you out. You were forever grateful for them, helping you paint the nursery, and helping the two of you to gather all the stuff that you would need. 

Amidst all the shopping you kept stumbling on pictures of dad’s on baby products, parenting books for fathers, at first they were just things you noticed, but eventually it started to get to you. You didn’t want to bother Alessia with your emotions, as she was literally growing two humans inside of her but being the amazing wife that she is, she noticed your change in behaviour instantly. “Baby, what’s going on?” She asked softly. “It’s nothing, love.” Alessia knew all your tells, so she knew you weren’t being truthful. “Hey, none of that. If something is going on, you can always tell me, baby.” You cave in after she brought out the puppy dog eyes. “I’ve just been in my head about not being related to the twins. What if my maternal instinct won’t kick in? What if I won’t have a connection with them the same way that you will?”

Alessia takes your hands in hers, “Sweetheart, you already have a connection with them. You talk to them, sing to them, and read to them every single day. These kiddos know your voice by heart already. You’re going to show up for our babies, and you’re going to love them, you’re going to care for them, and that is all they will need. You are great with kids, baby, you might not realise it but I think that your maternal instinct kicked in the moment we saw the positive result on the test. You are going to be the most amazing mother to these two little nuggets.” Alessia always knew the right words to say. “Thank you, my love.” You place a kiss onto her cheek. “I needed to hear that.”

The day your baby girls were born was one with many emotions, all of the best kinds. When you held them for the first time, everything you had been worried about faded away. Their little hands holding onto your fingers, and you had never felt more ready to take on motherhood. Alessia was tired but so in love with the two little bundles of joy. Ever since you had found out that you were going to have two girls, you had known what you wanted to name them, and Alessia had loved your idea.

Lotte, Beth, and Viv were the first of your teammates to come visit your family in the hospital. You hadn’t told anyone the names yet, saved for this special moment. After the four of them have admired your girls, you take one of them from their little crib. “This is Mia, named after Alessia’s middle name, since I’ve always loved it so much.” You hand Mia to Beth, Viv is quick to snap a picture. Then you picked up your other little girl, and walked over to Lotte, handing her the baby. “And this little girl was named after our best friend.” Lotte’s eyes quickly shoot up to you. “Meet Mae.” Lotte could not believe that the two of you had named your child after her, as tears started rolling down her cheeks. “I’m so honoured, thank you so much.”

In small groups the rest of the team, and your families came to meet the little girls. You were so grateful for having such a big group of people you called family, knowing that the girls had so many bonus aunties warmed your heart.

------

y/nrusso and alessiarusso99 posted

Liked by viviannemiedema and 87,458 others

y/nrusso: Mia and Mae Russo. Welcome to the world, my sweet girls, I love you both so much. P.S. My incredible wife is doing well❤️

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lottewubbenmoy: Like I haven't cried enough yet.. Forever grateful to have one of your little girls named after me. Love them both so much already!

viviannemiedema: The best mama's! 😍

bethmead_: The cutest!

------

You quickly got used to life as a family of four, and you were loving every single moment of it. The gallery of your phone was filled with pictures and videos of the twins, wanting to capture every moment, so you could hold onto the memories forever.  

The twins were very loved, not only by Alessia and yourself, but also by your friends and family. Your home was often filled with visitors, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

------

y/nrusso posted

Liked by alessiarusso99 and 63,785 others

y/nrusso: Life lately 🥰

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------

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[silawastaken]

do you ever think about the night that dazai and chuuya realised they had been missing each other longer than they'd known each other?

At some point, between the three and four year mark of Dazai leaving the PM, they both had a moment where they realised how long it had actually been. They realised why something in their life wasn't quite right despite the grief having mostly worn off.

For Chuuya, it was in the evening. He's a busy person, when he learned Dazai defected he resolved not to think about it while working. Dazai no longer had a face or a name. The clinical detachment he used to loathe and simultaneously envy Dazai for became the only thing that stopped him from having a breakdown every time something he needed to work on because of the former demon prodigy crossed his desk. It was the only thing he could ever replicate Dazai's carelessness towards.

Then, he gets home from work after a particularly long day and has to resist the urge to crash into his bed fully clothed. He takes his time and goes through the motions, relaxing and getting ready for bed until he crashes onto his couch and can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he doesn't have any more work to do.

Then, he sees something. Maybe he's looking for something to watch and sees a particular movie or show, maybe he's scrolling through social media and sees a brunette with brown eyes, maybe it's a flower or a constellation but he's reminded of Dazai.

Something uncomfortably close to hurt and grief fills his chest, and unwillingly, his eyes flick to the date, and his brain reminds him that Dazai would be 21 for a few months by now. Dazai was 18 when he left. Unbidden, he thinks about his and Dazai's 18th birthdays respectively, and the chaos they cause. He has to force himself to not dream about what they could have done for his 21st. What they could do for his 22nd. He gets up for a bottle of wine and a glass.

For Dazai, it was slightly different. He had more time to process, during his years alone while waiting out the clearing of his criminal record, a few weeks at a time in a foreign country under a fake name, he had all the time to mope around. His daydreaming of what things he could have changed was endless, he spent day after day rebuilding worlds in his head where he returned to Yokohama to break into Chuuya's apartment and drag him to france, or russia or america, anywhere as long as he was there.

So, it was a mistake he hadn't made in a long time, following along behind his chattering coworkers with his hands in his pockets, smiling and joking until he passed something he hadn't seen before in a spot he used to visit, and ran over to check it out, turning back around with an excited "Chuuya, look!" only to be met with empty air and his coworkers slightly further down the street from when he ran away.

For a few moments, he just stares at the empty spot where he expected Chuuya to be, where he should have been, an ache in his chest making itself known again, the hole which had temporarily been filled with new faces and names widening to recreate the gap where Chuuya once was. (That little hole in his heart was much too big, Dazai thought, since Chuuya was so tiny. The joke he attempted to make to himself only made it hurt worse.)

When he returned to his coworkers it wasn't quite with the same enthusiasm before. That night was spent with a bottle of sake and a small collection of old photos, dates all over three years prior.

Neither bring it up, but there's a small sense of relief when they come face to face in a port mafia basement, that they can make up for the fourth year, that they have the chance to know each other longer than they missed each other again.

[c4llahansgirl]

casual

pairings - sean diaz x reader

cw - blood brothers ending sean but a bit before the events of the ending, high sex, verrry slight munch sean, he whimpers ‼️, p in v, theyre situationship ish type situation, sean calls reader mama and ma, unprotected sex

a/n - def meant to make sean more pathetic and in love but oh welllll (also do u guys think they were knee deep in the passenger seat??? and he was eating her out???? do u guys think it was casual then????)

the joint hit your lips, smoke filling your lungs as you inhaled. sean’s eyes locked on yours, his hand rested just above your ass. you inhale the smoke into your lungs, then lean down, breathing the excess smoke into sean’s slightly parted lips. he inhales the smoke, breathing out the rest into the air. you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips.

he pushes his hips up to bump against yours, his growing arousal touching yours sending shivers down your spine. a sigh escapes from his lips as they curl into a smirk. he reaches his hand up and drags your bottom lip down with his thumb, his eyebrows knitting together.

“so fuckin’ beautiful, y’know that?” his head cocks to the side, a soft groan pushing past his lips when you roll your hips against his. you take another drag before leaning down and pressing kisses to his lips, letting smoke flow out of your mouth as you do. he smiles, grabbing hold of your hips and flipping you two over. he positions himself between your legs, grabbing the joint from your hand. he takes a hit, letting the smoke flow out before inhaling it back in. his free hand falls, haphazardly unbuttoning your jeans. he hands off the joint to you, kissing you again as he slips your pants off.

you two were a “casual” hookup. he’d only been in mexico a few years and you were only supposed to be visiting for a few weeks. he wasn’t ready to be dating and you weren’t ready to be a one night stand with some random guy in another country. it didn’t stay just casual, you two never spoke about it ever evolving but you both knew the second you extended your visit. sean at least couldn’t stay casual, not when you looked so gorgeous with your eyes red and your lips pink and glossy.

his hand dipped past your panties, groaning once his middle finger hit your sopping arousal. he smiles, letting out a chuckle.

“all for me? huh?” he says, dragging a finger up your folds. you push his arm, rolling your eyes at his stupid, dopey smile.

he leans down, laying on his stomach as he wraps his arms around your thighs, laying his hands on your stomach. he slides your panties up and off your legs, kissing down to your clit. he sighs, smiling as he licks up from your hole to the hood of your pussy. a moan erupts from his throat, a small and breathy ‘fuck’ vibrating against your clit. he sloppily and slowly laps up your cunt, two fingers slowly falling down to curl against the gummy spot hidden in the back of your pussy. he whines as you clench around his fingers, sean seemingly getting fed up with something.

he presses another kiss to your clit, sitting back up and unzipping his pants. his hard and heavy erection practically spills out, aching and begging for some sort of release. he watches as you take another drag, pressing kisses to your neck as his tip pushes against your wetness.

your bodies were like magnets. you both ached for each other and when you finally got to feel each other, skin on skin it was like your bodies completely understood the other. you both always knew exactly how and where you needed the other, if sean was feeling some type of way so were you and vise versa. there was never any questions between you two it was always the case of knowing exactly the others thoughts.

his noises sounded tired, low in your ear as he slowly pushed in, almost like the was scared he’d hurt you. he always knew he wasn’t going to hurt you, you took everything he gave you like a champ, and he knew exactly what would please you.

he sighs, pulling out then thrusting back in. he set a slow pace, the soft and spaced out slaps of your hips slamming together filled the room along with your soft moans. he whined in your ear, hands finding their way into yours and interlocking your fingers. you pressed kisses to his shoulder, gasping as his pace picked up slightly.

he pushed himself up from his resting position in the crook of your neck, smiling down at you. he admired you, much like he did constantly, as he took long drags in and out of your sopping pussy. the joint was long forgotten by now, resting in the ashtray next to his bed. he watched your expressions, how they changed, how you reacted to certain things, and especially how you admired him back.

his hands left yours to pull your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to kiss you. the new angle gave him more control, and gave you more pleasure. he watched your eyebrows furrow and your mouth fall agape as he sped up, chasing his climax. soft gasps and loud claps filled the room and bounced off the walls and your cries got louder as your hand gripped his arm for support.

“sean.. baby-“ he nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a lazy thumb presses circles into your clit.

“c’mon ma, cum for me” sean encourages you and your eyes roll back, back arching up off the bed slightly. you whine and whimper, gasping as sean reaches his own high. he stills inside you with a loud whine, thick and hot ropes spilling inside your walls. you both pant, catching your breath as you come back to reality. you two lock eyes, giggling with another smiley kiss. he kisses down your face, kissing up your jaw and nibbling on your ear gently.

“thank you mama,” he starts, kissing your neck. he mumbles and babbles, but lets a small “love you baby” escape past,

[chimivx]

gimme gimme gimme -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

Friends have graduated, board positions have changed, relationships are brand new and ever changing, but you and Mingi… You don’t change. Which to some should be a comfort, peace of mind knowing your partner is right by your side, always there for you especially in your times of need… You can’t figure out why you don’t feel the same.

wc: 8.4k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 12/8/24 3;50 pm est.

masterlist ~ next part ->

june.

Disgusted.

Betrayed.

No, disrespected.

No. God, what was it?

Arms folding over your denim strapless crop top, you abruptly faced the round table covered in an embroidered dark blue cloth. K.Y. was stitched along the edges lined with a lighter blue silk. Other tablecloths had Dr. Kang in their silk, or Nasara University Graduate. Outside, beneath a massive white tent fit for a royal wedding, the warm summer air blew through the crowd of people on the dance floor in the center of it all, and over the heads stuck in white wooden chairs at their tables, like you, too… something… to dance.

Too annoyed.

No, that was a weak argument.

Too… frustrated to get up and frolic around your friends smiling and laughing, the group having the best time celebrating their graduate, Yeosang.

Everyone was in attendance. Aurora and Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Soul, your boyfriend Mingi, Yuna, Ryujin, and all other faces from ATZ and ITZ alike. Ones Yeosang approved of. Hongjoong was here, hiding behind Jongho somewhere no doubt, if the upcoming Nasara Junior wasn’t clinging onto Yuna. San spun around the floor in circles making his rounds beneath the tent ensuring at least three people were contenders to take home, and somewhere along the back of the crowds, sticking close to some of the newer ATZ boys, was Yunho.

The boy tried to hide, tried to stay low on the radar, but Aurora sniffed him out. She had tabs on him at all times, every minute, every hour, she knew where he was. That boundary she set in place with him back in October, it still stood true, and he hadn’t broken it. He would speak to her only when she spoke to him, but even then each moment was few and far between. It didn’t stop his lovesick eyes from latching to her while Wooyoung twirled her in his arms, attempting to leech any of the feeling dripping off of the couple that still wasn’t officially a couple.

Disgusted.

Now it felt appropriate to use. 

Their bond, one clearly meant to be whether they were a couple or not, had started to fill you with frustration at some point, a type of anger you couldn’t place as anger until winter break rolled around. Vacationing with Mingi and his family for two weeks you kept up with Aurora and her life, staying as close to her as you possibly could while on the other side of the country on an island off the coast of Paix. As her best friend, and her yours, she sent you daily updates of her life and her lovelife. She and Wooyoung weren’t dating, but they were hooking up, they were going on dates, they did all things couples do. Clearly in the honeymoon phase, the way she’d smile through the phone while she spoke about him sparked your many questions as to why they won’t just pull the trigger and make it official.

She had the same response each time. A smack of her lips against her teeth, a measly shrug, and a mumble of, “I dunno.”

To make matters worse, it seemed Wooyoung had the same reaction as well. Half a shrug and a funny face, it’d been Mingi confirmed, the boy you slept next to for two weeks straight in a bed fit for four, sometimes with him all the way on the other end snoring away at some point in the night while you laid awake and listened to Aurora’s whispers of her newfound, exceptional, most amazing, beautifully soul tied, passionate, hot and heavy romance she and Wooyoung had discovered.

She never described it that way, that’s just how it sounded to you in your head.

Most nights during that vacation you’d hung up the phone and glanced to your right at the stretch of a boy snoozing away half naked beneath the sheets. Blonde tipped hair with melty chocolate roots, he was always gorgeous, but it sparked a different feeling within you those two weeks and the months to follow. 

All the way to today.

Tonight.

Dressed similarly to you, by your request, a denim style button down and black pants strapped to his rail thin waist with a belt, Mingi sat backward in a chair beside you. His ring adorned hands rested on his thighs, tapping to the beat of the song that flooded the air beneath the tent. His head bobbed along too, the blonde brushing his forehead where he had it parted to the side, pushed back onto his head. Gazing out at the dance floor, at his friends chanting along to the song that’d play within the walls of the fraternity, he unconsciously released a sigh, one you couldn’t hear, but feel.

“Just go dance if you want to,” you spat without giving him a look. Leaning forward you rested your elbows on the soft cotton of the tablecloth and reached for your glass of champagne. You weren’t sure how many you’ve had so far.

Mingi turned his chin toward you, an eyebrow raised in pure question, his eyes reading the same. “Hm?” he hummed, leaning toward you. Watching you knock back the rest of your flute, he held out a hand to take it, but you slammed it to the table instead. “Do you wa-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, tipping your chin backward, eyes squeezing shut. “I said go dance if you want to!”

The bass of the music tickled your skin as the sound in the speakers shifted into that of a rapper that the crowd approved of. It was slower, the rhythm sultry and smooth, a familiar sound your body had been conditioned to know. You didn’t even want to look at him, you knew what face he’d be wearing. He’s had you on your back many times to this song.

“Tori,” Mingi said with no strong voice inflictions detected. Looking at him, a grimace on your face, the softest smile on his, you felt your heart twinge. “I was only asking if you wanted another drink.”

“Oh,” you breathed. Flickering your eyes around, at him, at the table, at your empty glass, you said, “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

He took your glass and hurried off with nothing more than the small smile he wore.

Behind his large frame that blocked half of the dance floor from your sight, removing his presence meant unveiling another frustration. Or, rather just one, the same one, Aurora and her lovelife, but it’d been doubled and shoved back into your face.

Dancing, eyes half closed, heavy as she twirled and spun and let the music move her about, she no longer stood within Wooyoung’s arms, but instead anothers. Wooyoung remained by her side, singing, dancing, but he didn’t hold her. He watched her. Shaggy blonde hair, baggy black clothes, pale creamy skin, big black eyes. He wore a smile, Soul did, while his arms hung around her waist, his hands toying with the swishy black fabric of the sundress every so often when her moves would allow it. 

Over the course of that vacation you took with Mingi, when Aurora would spend time with Wooyoung, there was one day for every two spent with him that Soul would tag along. That Soul would be involved. That Soul was coming with. That Soul would nudge against her cheek with his own, pushing her out of the Facetime frame, shirtless with messy hair and a dopey smile. Within seconds of him taking over a call you’d be forced to stare at Wooyoung’s ceiling as the phone dropped to his bed and the three of them bickered over nothing, laughed, then bickered some more until Aurora would pick the phone up and bid you goodnight.

It wasn’t something they shared with everyone else, but you knew. It took her some time to tell you, to admit it, but she said the words at ATZ’s New Years Eve party. Drunk, lounging on the leather couches while the boys played through the annual pong championship they created themselves, she whispered the words when Soul swung by to refill her cup for her.

“Have you ever had a threesome before?”

With a shake of your head she set off and spewed every little detail of her winter break adventures, most of which you already knew of. They weren’t dating, her and Wooyoung, but there was an unspoken thing between them that meant they belonged to one another. Kind of like how you and Mingi started out. Aurora and Wooyoung weren’t together, for whatever reason the two of them only know, but you supposed it left some wiggle room, some grey area open for them to be able to pull Soul into the bedroom with them.

So much time between the three of them was spent at Wooyoungs in Delo. Weekends, sneaky nights after group dinners, after ATZ parties for the remainder of the year. The three of them were hooked. They were experts at keeping it on the downlow most times in public, but they were insufferable.

Disgusted.

At first you couldn’t pinpoint why. That anger, that frustration that soon settled into rage as the months flew by to graduation where you all came together to support Yeosang and Ryujin as they crossed the stage in Iloa at the Lions Stadium in the gorgeous May sunshine. Isla and Vernon came to the ceremony and dinner afterwards, reconnecting with faces they hadn’t seen in a while. Neither of them were able to come to the party to everyone's dismay, the team was traveling south this week for games, the Lions princess getting some much needed tropical time, or so she’s mentioned a trillion times with a thousand devil emoji’s. 

After a media blow up of Isla, her name and her life, she’d been finally able to wriggle free of some imaginary restraints put over her, and she was living her life for her. The way she’d always intended. Sober for two and a half months now, she kept the group chat updated with each passing week, she’d begun paving her own path in the sports world, trying to build and create her own empire of women like herself that have struggled with addiction, self-discipline, empowering them to take control of their lives and their futures. 

Her follower count has breached a million, growing every single day. Without the help of her brother. Without the help of Vernon, her boyfriend, the two finally together after years of pretending there wasn’t anything between them. Isla was happy, finally, and she deserved it. 

But, you missed her. 

Now with Aurora mixed up between two boys who were the greatest sex of her life-

“Even Yunho?”

“Y-yes, even him. Shut up.”

Aurora had two boys. Yuna had Jongho, the two in a talking-hook up phase that’d slowly been turning into a let’s dress up and go out to dinner phase as of late. Ryujin, freshly graduated, met a girl at her internship at the end of the semester, in May. It hasn’t even been a month and the two were already looking at apartments in Iloa together. 

Everyone had brand new exciting things happening for them, happening to them, and it filled you with a cold dread that, now that it was June, had turned into resentment for every single one of them. Even the sweet boy who brought you a sparkling champagne glass filled to the brim with bubbles. With a smile he popped it into your outstretched hand and manicured fingers. His eyes, deep brown, filled with a pureness he’s had since day one, since the moment you two exchanged names on the front lawn of ATZ, heads tipping back in identical shrieks gathering attention all because you shared a last name. 

He was your one and only, the love of your life. He matched you, mirrored you in every single way, shape and form. He’s seen every side of you, Mingi has, and he’s never judged you for any of them. Hungover and grumpy, he’s been there to take care of you. Silly, a bout of the zoomies, he’s there to laugh with you and catch you when you crash. Overwhelmed, feeling as though you can’t work anything out, figure anything out, especially since taking the Vice President position your best friend offered you, Mingi’s been there to talk things out with, to create plans, and sort through work. 

He’s that cheesy shit authors publish… Your sun, your moon and all your stars. You didn’t believe it until you met him, until he caught you every single time you fell and aided you back to your feet. His friends will joke that he’s down bad, and a simp, but he didn’t give two shits. He loved you, and you loved him.

You loved him undeniably so that it gutted you to even admit to yourself that you wanted more.

You craved more.

You yearned for something fresh, something new, something to give you that rush, the feeling of the chase. Going on year three with Mingi, you knew everything. You’ve learned everything. The two of you have pretty much tried everything too. 

For three years you’ve been able to tell him every thought that flowed through your head, from how pretty the moon looked to how fucked up it was that your parents missed parents weekend again for the second year in a row because of your younger sister. How the hell were you supposed to articulate to him, the biggest softie in ATZ, that nothing about your relationship excited you anymore? 

“What’s the matter, Tor?” he asked you, sitting on the edge of his seat facing you. Watching your glossy lips sip the bubbles and look out toward the dance floor, he sighed, but this time you could hear it. “You’ve been on edge since yesterday, and it’s two weeks too early, so… Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“No,” you said, swishing your glass before downing another gulp. Lifting the glass toward him you flashed him a sarcastic smile. “But thanks for the reminder I’ll get my period on vacation.” 

“Is it that?” He shoved his hands between his thighs, his eyebrows furrowed above his sappy eyes. This is what Mingi liked to do. Analyze you. Pick you apart. Solve the problem. In the past, without this nagging living beneath your skin, you’d appreciated it and looked forward to it, knowing he was there to lean on, to give all your problems to. Now, it made you want to smash your champagne flute onto the ground. “All of us going to Haos? We’ve been packed, we’re good. I have our plane tickets, we know what’s going down, we’re going to be okay.”

Haos. Your fabulous beach vacation you were taking for a month with a select few beneath this tent. A select few you have ample problems with. One sided problems. At the beginning of May it was decided you’d vacation in Haos with your friends, stay there for thirty days, all of you in one house just big enough for six of you. The beach town lured Nasara students in, so the rest of your friend group would be headed down there to stay close by but thankfully not in the same house. You were set up to be surrounded by more of the same.

The same fun people, the same drunken memories made, hanging onto the same safe, secure Mingi like you have been for years. 

“Of course we’re gonna be okay,” you mumbled, sipping your drink.

He smiled, all teeth. “We will be, I promise you.” 

Assuming he solved it, he cracked the code, Mingi redirected his attention to the dance floor and his friends, Aurora now back in Wooyoung's arms, hanging onto his front and his black t-shirt. The three of them matched, Ror, Wooyoung, and Soul.

Gross.

You took a peek at Mingi and his threads.

Damn it.

Hands latched onto your back, acrylic fingernails grabbing onto your shoulders, pink glossy lips coming close to your ear. “Um, Jongho bought me something.”

Glancing over your shoulder at Yuna’s wide, bright eyes, you tried to smile. “What’d he get you?”

She shrugged, flipping her chocolate hair over her shoulder as she took the seat beside you. “No idea,” she laughed, scooting her chair closer to you. “He said he’ll give it to me when we’re in Haos.” Her eyes scanned over the table and the empty glasses over it. “Lost my drink,” she muttered.

“Here comes Jongho,” you breathed, eyeing the massive boy as he left the dance floor, his black hair fluffed and pushed over his forehead and sharp eyes. “I’m sure he’ll get you another one.” Mingi held out a hand for his brother to slap, then looked over at you, the two of you sharing a few seconds before you twisted to face Yuna who melted into her boy's arms when he wrapped them around her shoulders.

“You guys are leaving tonight, right?” Yuna asked, a big ass smile on her face. Jongho looked between you and Mingi before he pressed a few kisses to her cheesy cheeks.

Swallowing your cringe, wanting to reach out and rip them apart, you nodded and pushed your hair behind your back to show off more skin and the M around your neck on a gold chain. Your boyfriend sipped his drink and smiled at his friends. He didn’t look at you like you wanted him to.

“We’ll be on a plane in a few hours,” he said. 

Yuna glanced to the dance floor, then to you. “Those three are going with you, right?” With a roll of your eyes, knowing which three she was talking about, you nodded again. “What goes on? Aren’t Wooyoung and Ror together? What’s the deal with Soul?”

One measly glance toward the trio grinding on one another like they weren’t surrounded by all of Yeosang’s friends and family, you turned to Yuna and said, “They fuck.”

Mingi sprung forward in his seat, his hands slapping to the table as his eyes shot open. “What!?” Both Yuna and Jongho’s jaws flew open, the pair clutching one another like you shot their mother. 

Sipping your champagne, you averted your gaze and laughed to yourself. “Oops.” You wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t tipsy or annoyed beyond belief. They were making it too obvious anyway, anyone with eyes who looked at them right now would be able to tell they knew each other too well. Looking their way, your stomach churned. They were headed toward their table, your table. “Well, shit.”

Wooyoung, with Aurora behind him, the two hand in hand with Soul on their heels, snuck around chairs and people alike, still rocking along to the music. Circling around the table, Aurora singing along to the song with the blonde boy behind her, Wooyoung eyed each and every one of you, his once happy eyes now struck with curiosity. Aurora flopped down into a chair across from you, not sparing you a glance as she leaned toward Soul who sat beside her sideways to face her, his elbow finding its way onto the table. Like they had a secret to share, endless whispers to exchange, the two spoke a mile a minute, Aurora’s hands flying like they did when she was drinking.

“Everybody okay?” Wooyoung spoke slowly at first, still standing beside his not-girlfriend who reached out to toy with Souls necklace hanging over his shirt. Yuna watched her sister, Jongho stared at Soul, Mingi didn’t know where to look. Wooyoung took them all in, then focused on you, hoping you’d give him an answer as to why everyone seemed like they were trying to work out who would go where in their heads. 

Jongho stood up straight, let go of his girlfriend, and stepped over to Wooyoung’s side holding out a hand for him to take. Hesitating at first, brows plummeting under his waves, he placed his hand in Jongho's and let him shake it. 

“Jongho!” Yuna exclaimed, bouncing in her seat, acquiring Aurora and Souls attention. 

Jongho took his hand back and shrugged toward her. “Can’t help it,” he said, then floated by her side to kiss her cheek. “Going to get you another drink.”

“What happened?” Aurora asked.

Wooyoung glanced at her and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, sitting down in his chair. “What happened?” Yuna, looking between the three of them, lips parted while her mind worked, she couldn’t give them an answer. 

“They’re mad we’re leaving tonight and they have to wait a few days,” you said, getting a look from Mingi. You didn’t like how it felt, so you gave one back to him. He nearly snapped his neck focusing back on the table in front of him.

“Ohhh-kay,” Aurora sang, observing how Mingi moved, asking you a question with her eyes when they met yours. Ignoring her, you focused on the rest of your champagne.

Soul pushed his chair back abruptly, jumping to his feet. “Who needs a drink?”

“Not you,” Wooyoung said, voice stern as he looked up at the boy.

Yuna, now leaning onto the table, still studying the trio, was quick to ask, “Why not?”

Both Wooyoung and Soul shot her a look, the timing impeccable it almost made you laugh.

“Because,” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly, “He’s had his tongue down San’s throat twice, if he has anymore to drink he’s gonna end up going home with him.” Turning to speak to Aurora, Yuna’s question pulled him back quicker than the previous one.

“Jealous?”

“What?” His eyes narrowed. Yuna started to laugh, Wooyoung did not know what to do. “What did you just say to me?”

Aurora threw an arm over one of his, pushing him backward in his chair. “Leave it,” she muttered as if she were talking to a dog. Squinting across the table, watching the way he calmed down in an instant, the way he looked at her, listened to her, seemed to adore her, you couldn’t help the way your lip curled. “God damn, I wanna be on a beach!” 

Soul, who had flopped back down beside her, let out a laugh, his being leaning toward hers. “A beach!” he mimicked, laughing with her. Wooyoung’s expression went unchanged, even as he watched the two fall into one another, their giggles sounding over the music playing throughout the tent.

“What the fuck,” Yuna said under her breath with a slight widening of her eyes, looking at you.

Pressing your lips together, you popped your brows and sighed. “Tell me about it.” 

“Do you wanna tell me now?”

Mingi unlocked his front door, pushing the finished white wood open for you to step inside first. Heels clicking on the tile of the foyer, you make yourself at home, dropping your little purse on one of the end tables by the couches a few steps into the house, into the living room. Leaning over one of the leather backed sofas you pulled off your heels and dropped them into his outstretched hands, Mingi having locked the door behind him, following behind you with an attentiveness that irked your very soul.

“I said I’m fine,” you breathed, keeping your voice low. Just down one of the halls that wrapped around the back of the house, behind the kitchen, behind the living room, was his parents bedroom. 

Up the stairs that you both teetered towards was his space, two bedrooms and a living room that mirrored the one on the first floor, but it’d been flipped by Mingi and his older brother when they were growing up. Full of things for school, exercise equipment, gaming systems, couches and bean bag chairs, Mingi and his brother made it theirs, their parents allowing them to have a space to call their own.

“And I’m saying, I don’t believe you,” Mingi whispered, placing a hand on your back to guide you up the stairs you wavered back and forth on. You tried to look over your shoulder but he placed his hand there instead, turning you back around. “Go, into my room,” he said, voice growing stern.

“Don’t get like that,” you grumbled, reaching the top of the stairs and the open floor waiting for you. To your left was the door to this brother's bedroom that had been vacant for a few years now that he was moved out and half married. “I’m tired, I’m drunk, I’m-”

“You’re not drunk, Tor,” Mingi said, wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you along the floor to his door at the other end of the second floor. A breath tumbled from your lips as your feet stumbled over each other. “You’re just tipsy enough to say too much.” He pushed open his door, not caring how it swung into the wall behind it.

“To say too much?” Your brows screwed together. Starting for his bed you tugged at the zipper on your pants, the silky black hugging your hips perfectly.

Mingi dropped your shoes on the floor by his door that he shut with a slam and smirked. “Yeah, too much. You think if Rora and Wooyoung wanted everyone to know they were hooking up with Soul that they’d say it themselves?” Shimmying out of your pants, tossing them aside, you pout your lips. “That’s their business,” he said, tossing his shirt over his hamper next to a tall chestnut dresser. “And that’s your best friend.”

Reaching up your back to attempt to take off your strapless top, you couldn’t reach the zipper. Mingi, after undoing his belt and zipper, his jeans hanging off his hips, he loosed a sigh and turned you around by your shoulders. Dragging his fingers over your skin gently, chills ran down your spine. With the zipper in one hand and your shoulder in the other, he tugged it down and let your top fall to the floor, wasting no time, smoothing his hand down your bare back.

“You looked so good tonight,” he whispered, his hands traveling back up, a smile dancing on his lips as he watched the little bumps over your skin rise at his touch. Taking your hair in his hands, his long fingers dancing through the strands, making sure none was left on your cheeks, he laid it over one shoulder and pressed his chest against your skin, the heat making you shiver. “My pretty girl,” his warm breath fanned over your neck, his lips inches from the skin, brushing over your ear first before they pressed to the valley beneath your jaw.

“We have to get on a plane,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as his hands smoothed down your front, over your chest, greedy as ever. He didn’t listen, lost in his own actions, lips pulling at your skin, sucking further and further down your neck, your collar bone, his hands groping, fingers pinching to make you yelp. “Mingi.” His name came out of you in a whisper, something soft, like a plea for more instead of a demand to stop.

His tongue slipped from his lips, a heavy fat stripe pressing into your skin from your collar bone to behind your ear where his teeth latched onto your lobe, nipping at it, his lips wrapping around the three different sized diamonds he had bought for you.

“We have twenty minutes,” he mumbled. Wrapping his hands around your arms he lifted a knee and tapped it against the back of one of yours, knocking your balance out from under you. Laughing to himself while you gasped and fell forward onto his mattress, he pressed a hand between your shoulder blades to keep you down while he lifted your knees one by one onto his bed. Bending over you, his lips came close to your ear and he whispered, “Do you want it?”

“Yes,” came out of you all too fast. If he didn’t put you into such a compromised position, if he wasn’t pinning you down to his bed, if he hadn’t hooked a finger under the lace of the thong you wore and pulled it to the side after snapping it against your skin once, you might’ve told him no simply because you were still ticked off from the party.

But then his jeans hit the floor, the sound of his belt smacking the wood echoing off his dark walls, and a warmth erupted within you. The sound, his hands, his voice, you were down in seconds, ready for him in seconds. Back arching as he dropped to his knees and slid his tongue between your legs, the muscle tweaking your clit, teasing you, a laugh falling from him as he felt you writhe beneath him. Clamping your mouth shut, jaw clenched, every sound, every moan, every whine, you withheld them from him, keeping them within your chest.

Smoothing a hand over the curve of your ass as he stood, letting his fingers trail up your back to your neck, he threaded his fingers through your hair and turned your head, forcing you to look back at him. “You’re such a liar, Tori,” he said, pushing his hips into yours, his length slipping along your center, another shiver running through you. “Something is up,” he whispered, taking a hand between your bodies, lifting one knee onto his bed beside one of yours, “And if you think I can’t tell…” his voice trailed off as he slipped inside of you, your hips pushing backward like clockwork, muscle memory, your body knowing what it wanted. “Fuck,” he grumbled, taking his time to fill you entirely.

Arching further into the bed, chest to his mattress, ass pressing into his hips, against his hips, you blinked fluttering lashes up at him and smiled. He was big, yes. The way his muscles rippled as he pulled out to push back into you was hot, yes. Mingi had the ability to lock you in, render you submissive with a single look, yes. He could make you feel so good, so fast, unlike anyone ever has. He knew your tricks, he knew your triggers, he knew your body like it was his own. Countless nights were spent here in his bed, or back at ATZ in his room, learning you. He could make you cum on his fingers in minutes, and on his dick even quicker.

His body curled around you, caging you in, trapping you beneath him. Normally you’d both hate to be in one spot too long, you both craved more, you always did, but in a moment like this, one spot and his filthy mouth was enough.

For a moment, amongst the lust, the heat coming off of both of you, the fuzziness beginning to cloud your brain as he held you down and used you like a toy, you start to think that maybe you’re okay. Maybe this thing with Mingi will subside and leave you alone. If this month in Haos would be spent like this, the two of you on each other like sex crazed animals, maybe things would get better.

You and Mingi were the It couple when it came to your group of friends. It had always been you and Mingi, everyone adored the two of you, everyone knew you came as a pair, everyone could see the way you were with one another, comfortable, full of love, unafraid of how people would adore the sexiness that clouded your aura’s whenever you were together. Sometimes it felt like the bedroom door was always open, but you didn’t care, and neither did Mingi.

That’s how this month in Haos was supposed to go. You wanted the teasing, you wanted the noise complaints, you wanted to get caught locking lips and riding thighs late at night in a hot tub or the pool, plenty of spring breaks had been full of moments like those, but now, the attention would be elsewhere.

And you had yourself to blame.

Because you were tipsy enough to talk too much.

Mingi slipped a hand between your legs, his fingers swirling that sweet spot in circles, a whine involuntarily escaping you. He slid in and out of you so deliciously your toes were curling, but that feeling wasn’t building within you. That feeling he could so easily conjure, it couldn’t find you, and it spooked you. 

This hasn’t ever happened before.

You could speak up, you could say something. You could melt into him, ask him to flip over, tell him to do something else, but you couldn’t, you almost didn’t want to, and that killed you.

One thought of the vacation and your vibe was ruined.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, teeth biting into your shoulder. After a sigh he growled, “How the fuck are you not close, Torilynn.”

He almost had you, something sparked within you for a few seconds, but you couldn’t hold onto it for very long, so you decided to do something you’ve never once had to do with Mingi ever.

“I am, baby, I am,” you whispered, pushing a moan out of you that you knew would have him on the edge, “Don’ stop, Mingi, ‘hmygod.” Each thrust of his hips got sloppier and sloppier, his tongue pushed out of his mouth, lips latching to your neck as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you. He was seconds away from pumping you full of his cum and you couldn’t be any further away.

So, you tightened every muscle, you squeezed him tight, threw your head backward, and you mimicked how you’d sound when you’d actually orgasm. You’ve never prayed a day in your life, but within these few seconds, amidst his husky grunts and groans, his whispers of how good you fucking felt, you prayed he was too pussydrunk to realize that you faked it. Pushing you further into the mattress, his body weight resting on top of you, he filled you like he does, the shortest strokes aiding in emptying him entirely, and then, after a minute of shared heavy breaths and long kisses, he pulled out and laid beside you.

“God, c’mere,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his side with ease like he would when your body was normally spent. “Kiss me, please.” And you did, letting him lead the way, every kiss soft and gentle. “I love you, Tori,” he whispered against your lips, “So much.”

Taking a hand to his cheek, toying with the ends of his blonde hair, you smiled into the kiss, willing away the guilt that greeted you in your gut. “Love you, too,” you whispered, curling a leg over his waist. “So much.”

Wooyoung had Aurora in his arms. Standing in line at security, you and Mingi a few steps ahead of them with Seonghwa in front of you, the couple that wasn’t a couple tried to occupy the same space as one another. Sharing whispers when her face wasn’t buried in his chest, Wooyoung would have his lips pressed to her forehead more than they spoke words. They were both in hoodies, his hoodies, and sweatpants. Her makeup was gone, they’d definitely showered, and Soul stood behind them with his nose in his phone. 

You’ve heard stories of how you and Mingi were with one another when the two of you started hooking up, when your relationship started. Only hearing the words, so caught up in the whirlwind of your own romance to realize how you were acting, you wondered if it looked anything like this. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, whether they were hooked around arms, waists, necks, or beneath the hem of a sweatshirt doing god knows what, the hands were almost worse than the kisses. On her forehead, on her cheek, pressed to his jaw, to his neck, to his lips if he looked down far enough for her to catch them. 

You should be happy for her. Her heart had been broken several times at the start of your junior year, and here she was, with everything she wanted, everything she deserved, and then some. It wasn’t a secret, even if their label confused everyone but themselves, he wasn’t afraid to love her outside of his bedroom walls. That’s what she deserved. Someone she could trust, someone who would put up with every rigid part of her, understand her flightiness and keep her on her feet. 

That might’ve been where Soul came in.

The bits and pieces you’ve heard from her, how it all worked, made it seem like Soul was something for them to play with, and vice versa. The boy going into his sophomore year fit right into your group of friends, you’ve all spent plenty of time getting to know him, he wasn’t one for relationships, for commitments. He wanted the fun, and who could blame him, he was twenty and about to start his second year of college, in no way was he planning on locking someone down, especially when he was trying to land a board position at ATZ his junior year.

He was in it for the fun, to get off without having to hunt and work for it, Aurora and Wooyoung handed it to him.

Moving forward in line, the six of you almost to the front, you met eyes with Seonghwa who glanced behind him checking in to make sure everyone was still there. He gave you a smile, his eyes crinkling under the strands of black hair that caressed his cheekbones. You wanted to know what went on in his head, all these months of watching Aurora and Wooyoung’s relationship blossom into what it is now, you longed to know how he felt about it.

Sure, the two of them put their shit to rest, Aurora and Seonghwa, having done so in front of nearly all of you. They were friends, strictly, that had been established in front of all of you.

Pulling your lips into a frown you wanted to physically shake the feeling off of you. Aurora had the eyes on her, since the start of your junior year. It wasn’t until all the shit blew over that you realized how it made you feel. Even after the fact, weeks, months later. You were there for her, you helped her through the transition of taking the president position, you even accepted when she asked you to be her vice president, and then, it was as if nothing had happened at all. Like no one remembered what any of you had gone through.

Yeji, expelled. Mina, pulled out of school by her own parents. Isla, kicked out of the sorority, gifted a lifelong struggle courtesy of Yeji herself. Yunho, shattering Aurora’s heart, ripping apart the tight knit group of four you adored being a part of. 

Parties were thrown, bans were lifted, life got easier.

Everyone moved on.

“Tor,” Mingi’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts, his hand extended for you to take. Seonghwa was headed through the line, a group of men and women calling him forward to send him through security, checking thoroughly through everything. “We’re next.”

Slipping your hand into his, folding your fingers together, your grip fitting in his like it was made to be there, you took to his side and pressed yourself against him. ”Should I tell them I said something?”

Mingi glanced down at you, then back to the three waiting a few steps behind you. He gave someone a smile, whoever caught him checking on them, and said, “That you outed their little threesome?”

Clicking your tongue you shook his hand around. “Come on. It was so damn obvious.”

Pressing his lips together he softened his eyes. “Tor, I know I’m not smart, but… it wasn’t.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you groaned, slouching. “Least you have something new to tell Yunho to show him what he fumbled.” Mingi clenched his jaw, his eyes shooting upward and around the airport. “What?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

He shook his head. “Haven’t spoken to him since classes ended.”

Right. 

Of course he fucking hasn’t.

He’s said that to you.

All you could do was sigh, but that wasn’t answer enough. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked, looking down at you at his shoulder, a brow raised.

Shrugging, you used your other hand to gesture toward yourself, toward the day. “Everything,” you muttered, and smiled. 

Letting go of your hand he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you closer to him, smiling. “You’re tired, it’s okay,” he breathed, planting a kiss on your temple. “Sleep on the plane. When you wake up you’ll be on a beach.”

Taking a deep breath, you laid your head against him. “Thank fucking god.”

Sleep couldn’t find you. It wandered around you, teased you, reeled you in hook line and sinker, just to let you go with every tiny sound you’d probably be able to sleep through if your brain wasn’t full of bullshit you longed to be able to get rid of. Even with Mingi beside you, his eyes fluttering shut, eyelashes fanning his cheekbones the second his headphones were over his head, you couldn’t make it happen. He’d taken your hand at some point, his thumb dragging over the back letting you know he wasn’t completely asleep.

His blonde hair, shorter now that he’s gotten it cut, charmed you, as it normally would. His finger dragging over your skin, a little rough but all the more smooth, soothed you, as it normally would. His presence, his over-attentiveness, his need to keep you safe, taken care of, it overwhelmed you, when it normally wouldn’t.

Nauseated with yourself, with what you had just done to him, something you would never have to do, you were sick. You told each other everything, honesty was the glue that held the two of you together, he always said it himself, that the second that goes away is the moment your relationship is over. His own past haunted him just as yours did. His heart had been broken one too many times, the sweet faced gentle giant. Mingi craved loyalty, someone to look after, and someone to look after him, and he deserved it, more than anyone you knew. It’s been something you’ve been able to give him unconditionally all these years, and he’s been able to give the same back to you.

He’s never changed. He’s consistent. He’s too good.

“Hey,” a whisper pulled you from your circulating thoughts, the ones that haunted you when you were left alone for too long. Turning to your left, just over Mingi, Wooyoung was crouched over in the aisle. “Sorry.” He smiled and it tickled your skin. The boy oozed otherworldly beauty. “Ro’s asking for you.”

“Right now?” you asked, keeping your voice as low as his. People around you were either sleeping or trying to rest at this hour. Wooyoung nodded, his lips resting into something that triggered your fight or flight. “What does she want?”

“Won’t tell me,” he whispered. “Says she needs her sister.” His eyes narrowed but his face softened all at once. “Make sure she’s okay for me? Please?” His vulnerability with you is rare. With anyone other than Aurora his vulnerability was rare actually. One of the smartest in the group, an intelligent being with a knack for picking up on energies without even needing to meet the human being in person, he had the ability to hide his own, the ability to only show it when necessary, and it was powerful. His eyes pulled you from your seat, his words coercing you up without even realizing. The pied piper. A mastermind.

“I will,” you said as you passed by him, watching him slip over Mingi’s lap to take your seat. Your boyfriend opened his eyes when your hand slipped out of his. Sitting forward, he popped off his headphones and blinked up at you. “Going to talk to Aurora for a few,” you whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“No, actually, I need to talk to you, too,” Wooyoung said, a hand tapping Mingi’s shoulder to both you and your boyfriend's surprise. 

“Sure,” Mingi said, his deep gravelly voice full of sleep.

Stomach sinking past your knees, through the bottom of the plane, plummeting into whatever state, city, county, jurisdiction you flew over, you gulped and turned away to start down the aisle.

She knew.

They knew.

They found out you said something. 

There isn’t anything else this could be about, Aurora needed to talk to you, Wooyoung needed to talk to Mingi, they knew you opened your mouth and outed them.

With each step you willed your breath to remain steady. Like Wooyoung, you were somewhat of an expert at keeping your secrets at bay, not showing any truth unless you wanted to share it with the class. That’s why Mingi hadn’t been able to see anything, you wouldn’t let him. Approaching Aurora now, peeking over her row, her in the middle seat, Soul sitting by the window with his head on her shoulder, you swallowed every groan, every eye roll at the sight, and sat down beside her.

Gazing out the window at the night sky, slouched a bit where she sat, one leg pulled up on the seat, leaning into the boy who snoozed on her, his tangled earbuds in his ears, she looked at you with the smallest smile, placing a hand over yours when it grabbed onto the armrest. 

“Hi,” she spoke within a whisper.

“Hi,” you answered, both of you keeping your voices low.

Her smile deepened. “I could feel your doom and gloom from back here.”

An eye roll snuck out of you. “You could, or Wooyoung could.”

Her smile vanished. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nevermind,” you breathed, “I’m just tired, I think once we’re there I’m going to sleep for forever.”

“Tori,” she studied you, “What did you mean by that?”

Remnants of this past school year. You might’ve been the only one still stuck, but that didn’t mean everyone else wasn’t affected by what had happened. She’d been doing this since the day she was appointed her position, asking for reassurance, double checking that everyone was good, that everyone was telling her the truth. You couldn’t blame her, if anything you were doing the same thing, just not outwardly. Aurora told you everything, though last fall she wasn’t, you understood she did it with good reason. She took how it made you feel and actively applied it to your friendship, and all the other relationships she valued in her life. 

Now you know too much, but nevertheless, at the end of the day, you are grateful she trusted you with such delicate details.

Delicate details that now half the friend group knew about.

“He knows people,” you said, taking her hand in yours. “That’s all.” Her eyes flickered between yours, analyzing, like her brain scanned you for any signs of dishonesty. “You don’t have to do this with me, you know that.”

Focusing her attention forward, eyes dropping to her lap, she shook her head. “Sorry,” she whispered, then turned back to you. “I just wanted to check on you, I feel like you’ve been off. Like we haven’t talked about stuff in a while.”

Because you’re spending so much time with Wooyoung and Soul?

Because you’ve been frolicking around like nothing occurred these last two semesters?

Because you act as though life is fine, like it’s nothing to take seriously?

“Summer gets busy,” you said to her, squeezing her hand, “We know this. We go back to living at home, we have bigger responsibilities now, we’re both in relationships, it happens, Ror.” Funny, she was supposed to be the one comforting you right now. “We’ll have so much time to catch up on the beach.” She started to smile. “We can leave the boys behind, or we can RorTor them to death like we used to, whatever you want to do.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, then placed a hand over Soul’s bleach blonde hair, dragging her fingers through the strands. “As long as he’s good. Seonghwa said he’ll keep him on a short leash, but… I worry about him.”

Your internal eyes narrowed. Your internal lips pulled into a scowl. The face you wanted to make lived deep inside of you, every feature screwing up into a What the fuck? You didn’t get it. He was a twenty year old going into his sophomore year of college, if he couldn’t take care of himself at this point, if he couldn’t get a grip on himself at this point… You didn’t think Aurora needed the responsibility of looking after him.

Your side-dick will be fine, is what you wanted to say to her. The pet you and Wooyoung play with can take care of himself.

You didn’t get it. Wooyoung confidently left them behind, Soul draped over her like they were the ones dating. It placed something in your gut, in your chest, something you’ve only felt when your parents showered your sister and her achievements in glitter and gold, when they seemed to care about her more.

That couldn’t be it.

That wasn’t what this feeling was, sitting here watching Aurora stroke the boy’s hair with her something of a boyfriend sitting a few rows ahead of them. You weren’t envious of this. You were not jealous, you did not wish to have this in your life. You didn’t yearn for change, for something new, for something fresh, for something taboo. 

“I can see it, Tor,” she said, a smile sneaking onto her lips. “There’s something wrong.”

“Aurora,” you whispered, the steadiness in your voice scaring yourself, “I’m fine.”

She gulped, let her stare bleed into yours for a few seconds, then pointed her eyes down to Soul. “Okay.” It was all she said, all she had left to say.

If Mingi couldn’t see shit, there was no way in hell you’d allow Aurora to see shit.

You wished it wouldn’t happen, but you could visualize the walls already built around you growing thicker.

It was like you said, you were fine.

You would be fine.

A month with them, just them, everyone, would sort everything out, as if you were back at school with them, back in close proximity to one another. It wouldn’t cause problems, it would solve them.

You hoped.

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