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Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?
(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)
ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k
One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless.
“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back.
Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.”
You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?”
“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”
“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly.
When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected.
Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours.
“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction.
“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.”
“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.”
“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”
“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.”
“I can’t have narcotics.”
You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?”
“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.”
You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.”
“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.”
His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.
“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.”
“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.”
He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury.
“What do you do for work?” you ask him.
“I work for the FBI.”
“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.”
“It’s not the cut that hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.”
He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it.
“Are you an agent?” you ask.
“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.”
“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?”
“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.”
“So you’re the big gun.”
“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.”
“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.”
He sighs. “I do, too.”
“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.”
“It’s okay.”
You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside.
“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.”
You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though.
Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.”
You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails.
“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?”
“It’s okay.”
“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.”
“You’re a great nurse.”
“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?”
“Getting worse.”
“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?”
“Psychosomatic, apparently.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?”
“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly.
“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”
“Stressful.”
“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?”
“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.”
“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle.
“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand.
“I’m fine.”
He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?”
“Uh–”
“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.”
He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.”
“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.”
He nods but doesn’t move.
As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think.
“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say.
“Fine.”
“You’re pink.”
“What?”
“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?”
“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply.
“You can ask for her number.”
“No I can’t, she’s working.”
“But you want to,” his friend surmises.
You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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guilt tripping- o.piastri
summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader
a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹
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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse.
“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered.
“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you.
“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”
“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”
“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn’t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise.
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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel.
“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off.
“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”
“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning.
“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?”
Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear.
When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave.
“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry?
“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”
Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”
“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”
“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head.
“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed.
You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”
He nodded, taking your hands in his.
“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”
You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”
After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes.
You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”
He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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My long, nuanced answer to this poll about shipping:
I like to think about different possibilities of a ship regardless on if it’s canon or not canon, and the majority of my ships are not canon. Which I’m okay with because corpos sometimes tend to mess up canon couples anyway ESPECIALLY most LGBT+ couples, so that is why I am 100% content with say, Destiel not being canon. Don’t worry, I’m not using that Destiel meme that has been used very distastefully nor am I swearing with my whole chest until I run out of oxygen that Dean is bisexual in canon. You can take a breather. Specified ships aside, I like romance, and I love it even better when it’s well written and the couple has the best chemistry.
When it comes to others that love toxic ships, that is a whole different discussion for those particular shippers to have, and I prefer ships that have a lot of chemistry or potential chemistry over toxic ships, so I’m not the right person to discuss the nuances of toxic ships. So the toxic ship lovers can throw their opinions onto this reblog if they want.
I’ve also had ships where they were off-screen, and I was like, “but what if they actually did interact?” I always think about the personality traits that would make the characters compatible with each other. This is NOT a romantic ship, this is purely a familial relationship possibility that I have not seen anyone do yet: Jason Todd and Terry McGinnis. Think about it, people. Jason has a few similar traits to Terry and Jason would definitely find himself relating to Terry more than some of the other Batfamily members. Plus, it would be refreshing to see those two interact and have Jason not be constantly fighting with the Batfamily, specifically Bruce Wayne. I get that his opinions and views are very different from everyone else in the Batfamily, but it gets old fast. Like an old and hardened Jason Todd will probably incorporate some cool non-lethal wrist guns on Terry’s suit after testing it out and even sparring with Terry while (playfully) teasing him because that’s what older siblings do: annoy and taunt their younger siblings. With love. Seriously though, I think Jason and Terry would have the best brotherly relationship out of the Batfam. Or maybe I’m just alone in that teeny tiny minority lol. Call it a rare BROTP.
Fanon in shipping is a mixed bag, because on one hand, I go, “yeah, I can definitely see this happening with Character A,” but on the other, there is like OP said, mischaracterization. I like most ships even if it involves a character who is canonically spoken for or has explicitly shown attraction to only the opposite gender with another character with ZERO cheating, because I don’t need ships to follow canon. And when cheating gets involved I’m thinking, “yeah no, given the loyalty this character gave in canon, this is out of their character, so skipping!” That is where fanon comes into play. But if I dislike the fanon, then I create my own.
Shipping has no rules, except just respect other people’s boundaries, so I’m not gonna tell people “ew gross, why you following canon,” or “Blegh, why do you like this fanon, it’s so blah blah blah!” My opinions on canon vs fandom are nuanced. Canon can sometimes give us some cute pairings (like Kiara and Kovu from Lion King 2, my GOATED OTP) but canon also gives us icky ones or messes up a fairly nice couple (like Gambit and Rogue from the latest X-Men cartoon from what I heard and saw clips of). There are also non-canon ships that have made me scratch my head, made me feel indifferent, or I’m just like “I don’t get why anyone would ship this, but whatever.” And again, shipping has no rules, except just respect the boundaries of other people. Canon or not, have some fun with your ships. Let’s not start wars over ships and making non-shippers think that ALL of us act that way.
Hey, I wanna talk about how we do fandom! I've come to realize that I, personally, tend to differ from many others in that I highly prefer to only engage with a text as it's written, so I don't tend to really like fanon/extremely ooc characterizations and I find it hard to get invested in ships that aren't canon. My way of doing fandom isn't better or worse than anyone else's, but I am curious about how much of a minority I'm in! So:
*We've all seen ships of characters not from the same media and stuff like shipping the concept of ennui with the color blue, okay, I'm asking what you, personally, find compelling!
#LONG rant#rant#ramble#fandom#shipping#ships#poll#polls#this was marinating in my drafts for a while lol
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↳ DO YOU FEEL... BONITA? ⭑
𝓼ynopsis. in which you replace their chap-stick for a red lipstick. the question is: do they feel bonita? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader. 𝓰enre. fluff, crack, kind of suggestive at jay's part, trendy. 𝔀arnings. curse words, mention of having a period, mentions of food, riki's kind of mean? , not proofread, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 2k+ 𝓶asterlist.
♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: this scenario ended up being super basic, i feel bad for you guys (๑-﹏-๑) i haven't been really active, so i wanted to post something decent, but... i don't know, you guys tell me if this one wasn't the greatest lol also, i wanted to share a new word i learned a few days ago: therefore! now you might even see this word being casually used on my writings ><
― 𝓱eeseung: suspects... a lot.
"babe, are you leaving already?" you pouted, watching him picking up his wallet and checking his phone; expecting a text from enha's group-chat. "yeah, i'm actually running late," he chuckled. "they arrived?! 'kay, a kiss for you miss, before i'm gone." he kisses your lips and heeseung notices your nose scrunched. "what?" seeing him frown, you decide it was the perfect chance for you to hand him your special chap-stick. "your lips are kind of crusty, here," you notice an even more confused face expression coming from him. "what do you mean... crusty?" "just apply it! it'll surely make it better!" you explain, making him sigh and finally apply the red lipstick all over his lips - making him look like a clown. "okay, can i go now, princess?" you nod and he smiles, giving you a small peck before finally leaving.
an hour later you heard the door being snapped open, and that's when you knew: heeseung learned about the lipstick. "y/n! why would you do this?!" a sudden shout echoed through the walls of your shared home. "heeseung? baby?" you appeared, coming out of the kitchen with a mischievous grin. "what happened?" you asked, holding a innocent voice. "what have you done to my lips, y/n?!" his face expression was a mix of embarrassment and worry. "what do you mean? you look-" you let out a stifled laugh. "fine! you look fine!" "baby, no way this" he points to his red stained lips. "looks fine! the boys started to laugh at me and i didn't know why! even riki made fun of me!" your boyfriend whined with embarrassment. "now i know why the waiter started to look at me with a funny face..." "i still think you look handsome with your red lips." "IT'S RED LIPSTICK?!"
long story short: heeseung couldn't trust when you gave him a chap-stick EVER. he always makes sure to check the colour of it and even learned a trick to double check it: by pulling you for a kiss. and what can i say... you may have been caught a few many times.
― 𝓳ongseong: couldn't care less.
you were brave enough to make your boyfriend apply chap-stick while going out on a date night with him. in the car you told him his lips were looking kind of dry, and knowing where and how this night could turn out, he immediately took the chap-stick you handed him, applying all over his lips ― with abundance, highlighting even more the red lipstick you purposely replaced. arriving at the front, jongseong handed the valet parking his car keys, entering the restaurant with you. when both of you walked into the place, the waitress who works at the front door couldn't stop staring at your boyfriend; and you swear that if he wasn't wearing such an scandalous colour of lipstick you would assume she was flirting with jongseong.
anyway, after some good wine and a delicious meal course, you were sat beside jongseong, half of your back was falling to his side ― close to his chest. meanwhile, his arm was hugging your shoulder while holding your right hand, a romantic and intimate position to stay. your boyfriend would place kisses onto your forehead. during this whole intimate moment, you decided to make him apply more lipstick since it was fading. however, after a few minutes, you realised he won't notice it, so you took matters to your own hands, pulling your phone from your purse and asking for a picture. agreeing, you opened the camera app, revealing his subtle red lips.
"what is this on my lips?" he gently touched his lips. "what do you mean?" you turned your head to look at him, pretending to be curious. "sweetheart, what have you done?" jongseong asks you with a small grin, dropping his head to the side, shooting you heart eyes. you chuckle, amused. "i didn't do anything," you shrug. "you may have kissed the waitress, she is wearing red lipstick." he laughs out loud, leading to a few confused sights laying on both of you. "this red lipstick might stain your lips soon..." he whispers against your lips. "i can't take you seriously right now!" you giggle and he smirks, amused.
― 𝓳aeyun: "your daddy feels bonita, layla"
jaeyun enjoys going out for a walk with his daughter: layla. and usually, both of you go out together, and this time couldn't be different. however, the only difference this time was your boyfriend's red stained lips. you told him, while walking, that you've been using this new chap-stick and commenting on how much your lips have looked and felt more hydrated ― even jaeyun agreed. therefore, you pulled the famous chap-stick out of your jean's pocket and handed him, making him a bit startle from the way you casually pulled it out of your pocket right after finishing talking about it. you noticed he pondered a bit before applying it all over his lips. you smiled while he was doing so, finding this situation amusingly cute. he smacked his lips together, commenting after a surprised hum: "it's actually good, i can already feel my lips hydrated!"
layla began to feel tired, so did you and jaeyun, so, spotting a bench nearby, you sat beside your boyfriend while layla sat on the floor. and if this couldn't get better, your little family stopped at a crowded park, so as people passed by, jaeyun couldn't be ignored. "babe, why's there so many people staring at me? even girls! don't they see i am taken?!" he complained while pouting, hugging your arm. "right baby?- why are you laughing?" he frowned, even more confused when he saw you taking a sneaky picture of him. suddenly, a kid shouts: "look, mum! a clown!" the mum stares at you, at your daughter and then at your boyfriend, and she were clearly holding herself and not burst out of laughter. layla begins to woof at the kid, and you say: "calm down, baby, your daddy feels bonita, layla." "what does this even means-"
minutes later he discovered what that meant. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )
― 𝓼unghoon: he has a convenience store phobia now.
you were craving something sweet in the middle of the night since your period has started, so you asked you gently asked your boyfriend to go to the convenience store for you and buy you a sweet treat. sunghoon, feeling a bit upset, agreed, since he felt afraid you wouldn't be able to feel better soon. with that, he covered himself with warm coats as you told him so. however, before he left you told your boyfriend to apply some chap-stick ― telling him the cold weather could break his lips. he simply nodded, asking you to apply it for him and you did it perfectly ― since he were sweet for going to the convenience store for you under the cold weather and at night. you stole a kiss from him before he was gone, trying your best to quickly turn your face away from him because your lips might have been stained by the colour of his.
"i am never coming back to that convenience store ever again." "oh, hey, baby," "y/n, why does my lips look red?!" sunghoon questioned with terror. "what do you mean?" you dropped your head to the side, faking a confused feeling. "y/n, the cashier was looking at me funny and even an old lady was staring at me like i was crazy!" your boyfriend explained, holding two plastic bags full of your sweet treats. "and then, i could not notice them staring at me, so the moment i stepped out of that place i pulled my phone and checked myself and i saw this... i mean, there were many reasons why they could be staring at me, and usually is because i am handsome, not this!" he points to his face entirely. you giggled as you felt his desperation. "you are so cute, i love you, even with your red lipstick." you kiss him on the cheek. "i am killing myself." he says with the most serious face ever, plopping on the sofa. "well... more chocolates for me." you shrug.
― 𝓼unoo: silly lovers hehe.
you watched this trend of replacing chap-stick for lipstick go viral everywhere, so you decided to try it out with your boyfriend. so, when both of you were sat on the sofa, you asked him for a kiss, and when he gave you one, you scrunched your nose and commented: "your lips are dry, let me get you a chap-stick!" he frowned, knowing that his lip care routine is amazing. but anyway, he couldn't reply it to you since you were already gone picking up that chap-stick. you came back holding it in your hand and sitting back on the sofa. "okay, mind if i apply it?" you asked him that because the lipstick's stick is bright red and it was way too obvious. also! you knew about sunoo's lip care routine and knew he was already suspecting something. "okay, go ahead..."
after you applied it, you quickly closed the chap-stick's cap, however, sunoo saw the bright red colour peaking out for a few seconds, frowning before bursting out of laughter. "what was that?!" he asked between cute giggles and a big cheeky grin. "what?" you tried to hold a smile from spreading across your face, but a small giggle came out of you. "why was the chap-stick red?" "i-it's because it is cherry flavoured, dummy!" you explained, but sunoo side eyed you, not believing in it. therefore, he rubs his index finger over his bottom lip and confirms: it was indeed red lipstick. "y/n!" he amusingly screams your name, making you run across the whole living room, before he caught you and forces you to apply it too. sunoo might even take a picture of both of you just sharing his funny moment >_<.
― 𝓳ungwon: finds out alone because his qi is 200+
it was saturday and usually, when jungwon has some free time, he enjoys going out with you and spoil you ― since he could spend time with you, gifting you things and making you happy. however, you wanted to play with your boyfriend before leaving, so, you handed him your special chap-stick and told him that it was a brand you really liked ― and he made sure to note that. jungwon applied it innocently, not waiting for anything special. smacking his lips together, he held your hand and took his car keys, driving you to the mall. entering the air-conditioned surroundings, you told your boyfriend you wanted to go get some ice cream before visiting the stores ― just to see how the cashier would react; and their reaction couldn't be more accurate: discreet giggles and a smirk were noticeable.
"babe, why was that guy laughing at us? do i have something on my face?" poor baby, you wanted to tell him YES! straight ahead, but you knew this was way too good to give up. so you just shook your head, leaving the kitten with a question mark sat on his head. while walking past the mall stores, you remembered you were running out of skin care products. therefore, you went to sephora to buy them. but, during your search, jungwon was looking around the store when he came across an isle with lipsticks displayed. he frowned when the same chap-stick packaging he saw earlier was saying it was a red lipstick. suddenly, he felt someone nudging him, so he turned to see he was it. "looking at our red lipstick collections?" a lady who looked like she worked there asked, and jungwon's frown just deepened. "um... red?" "yes! looks like you are wearing it on your lips at the moment, isn't it great?"
"babe, do you think i should get this vanilla one or this- ... oh, you found out... heh..." "y/n!"
― 𝓻iki: when they go low, i go lower.
since riki was messing up with you regularly, you decided to have your sweet revenge by making him wear a beautiful red lipstick! so you replaced the chap-stick for a lipstick and before he went to practice, you told him it was cold outside and his lips might dry a little bit faster. even though you were the one applying it, riki was insisting it was fine before giving in and letting you do whatever. you made sure to make it pretty much uneven and smudged to mess up with him even more. you gave his cheek a little kiss before waving him goodbye. the last thing you know was that your boyfriend arrived home pissed off, saying that the boys were making fun of him during practice. and you might wonder: how he didn't notice since a practice room has a literal mirror wall?! because, you know how much riki likes his hoodies? so, his hoodie's hood was covering his face almost completely! however, he noticed a few minutes into practice after one of the members point out and he finally realises.
after that day, riki's mind have been trying to come out with a worse prank for weeks. he knew that you were going to hang out with your friends the next day, so he decided to, after you were fast asleep, he would sneakily draw and write ridiculous things on your face and somehow try to convince you that he could do your make-up. surprisingly, you woke up the next day in a good mood and already forgetting about that prank you did with your boyfriend, you accepted it ― and of course he pretended to do it. when you left to hang out with your friends, not even five minutes passed by and you were already texting riki, saying that you were going to kill him ― and even sending a picture of your face, texting a hundred question marks.
riki were only forgiven because he got your favourite food that day, otherwise... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆
#𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 ― ot7#enhypen x reader#enhypen writers#enhypen imagines#enha imagines#enhypen headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#sunghoon headcanons#heeseung x reader#jongseong x reader#jay x reader#jaeyun x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#niki x reader#riki x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fanfiction#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon reactions#enhypen x female reader#heeseung scenarios#heeseung headcanons#jaeyun scenarios#jake scenarios#jake headcanons#jaeyun headcanons
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scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)
synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.
genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff
warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness
w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.
a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)
The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.
Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.
Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.
He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.
Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.
And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?
You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.
And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.
“Are you okay?”
You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”
His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.
It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.
He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.
“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”
You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.
Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.
“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.
“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”
Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.
You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.
“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.
“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.
“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”
Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“
You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”
“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”
“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend. Ugh.
You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”
He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”
You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.
“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.
“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”
You’re overreacting.
That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.
Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.
The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.
Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.
But… what if?
There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.
“You okay?”
“Um…”
You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”
You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.
“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”
He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.
Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.
“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”
You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.
My man, you thought with a smile.
My man, you shivered.
“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,
“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.
“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.
God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.
“Yeah, just feeling-“
“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”
It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.
It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.
But I’m overreacting.
“It’s nothing.”
Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.
You heard his sigh.
“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”
You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,
“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“
“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.
His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.
Spencer gulped, “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,
“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“
“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“
“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“
“Wait so-”
You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.
“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.
He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.
The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.
You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.
You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.
It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.
He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.
You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.
You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”
Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.
“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.
I just hope it’s not with him.
He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”
“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.
Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.
No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’
No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.
You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.
You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”
taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner
#criminal minds#spencer reid#cm#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid oneshot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic
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caught in bloom, caught on you | xu minghao
SYNOPSIS. in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop. PAIRING. florist!xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers WARNINGS. hao basically falls in love at first sight HAHA, mild cursing, implied that yn lost someone close to them, a lot of yearning n pining, kissing WORD COUNT. 8.3k
notes: wheeboo is NOT in their short-ish fic era anymore and is in their long-ish fic era rn 😭 anyway,, i didnt have a title for the fic until hao posted his song on his birthday so... I hope u all enjoy?? this might be one of my faves haha
Minghao likes these kinds of days.
Thin, irregular shapes of cotton drift lazily across the endless blue embrace of the skies. The afternoon sun carries warmth in its hands that he could feel right through the glass windows of his flower shop. It's almost as if the season of summer itself is breathing through his shop, softly encouraging his little garden to reach for the light.
Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.
Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.
He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.
The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.
The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.
Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.
Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.
"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"
You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.
"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."
Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.
He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.
"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"
"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.
"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."
You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."
Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.
"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."
He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.
"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."
You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.
"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."
"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."
Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.
"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."
There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.
"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."
You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.
It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.
"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.
A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.
"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.
"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.
Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.
He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.
"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.
You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.
"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.
When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.
Y/N, he repeats in his mind.
"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.
You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.
"It's on the house."
You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"
"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."
You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.
"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."
Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.
But you're smiling, so he smiles back.
"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."
As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.
"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."
"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."
The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.
It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.
And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.
Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.
The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.
When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.
After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.
When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.
"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.
Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"
"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."
Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.
"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"
You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.
"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."
This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.
"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"
His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.
"The date didn't go well at all, actually."
Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."
You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."
The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.
After a long pause, you finally break the silence.
"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."
Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.
"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."
You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.
"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."
You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"
"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."
The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.
"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."
Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."
For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.
"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"
Minghao just nods. "Sure."
From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.
"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."
You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.
"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."
Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.
"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."
You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.
"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."
"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.
"Yes, please. Thank you."
After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.
As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.
"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."
Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.
There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."
A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.
"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.
Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."
"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."
"Take all the time you need."
And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.
He was blooming, too.
"Do you have a favourite flower?"
The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.
"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."
The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.
"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."
"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."
The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.
"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."
You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.
"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."
Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."
You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"
Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."
You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.
"Are you flirting with me right now?"
However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.
Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."
"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"
Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.
There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.
"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.
"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"
"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.
He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.
"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."
You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.
"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.
Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.
The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.
"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"
You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.
"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"
"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.
The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."
You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"
With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.
The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.
"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."
You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."
Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.
"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.
Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"
"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."
Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.
Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"
Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.
But... does it bother you?
"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"
"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."
You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.
"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.
Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."
"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."
This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.
"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"
You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"
Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.
"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."
When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.
"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.
As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.
"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."
"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."
Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.
When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.
Minghao hates seeing flowers die.
The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.
The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.
The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.
He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.
"Y/N?"
There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.
"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"
Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.
"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"
Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.
"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"
The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.
"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."
With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.
"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."
Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.
It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.
You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.
"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.
Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.
"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.
None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.
Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.
"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.
You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."
Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.
The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.
His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.
You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.
"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"
"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."
You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.
His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.
But then he stops himself.
He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.
But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.
Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.
"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."
You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.
"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."
Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"
"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."
Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.
So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.
"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."
Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.
"Minghao..."
"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."
There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.
"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"
The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.
"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."
The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.
You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.
"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.
Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.
"I know," is all he says.
The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.
Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.
You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.
The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.
It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.
He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.
So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.
It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.
But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.
Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.
Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.
As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.
And when he looks up, he freezes.
"I'm not late, aren't I?"
It's you.
The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.
"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click.
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.
"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."
Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd been thinking about you, but he doesn't.
"Have you been busy?" You ask him.
"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."
"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"
Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.
"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."
You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.
"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."
Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.
"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.
"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."
Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.
"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."
You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."
Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.
He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.
"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.
You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.
However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.
"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.
Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.
He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.
His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.
"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."
His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.
And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.
This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.
He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.
Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.
"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."
A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"
"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."
"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.
Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."
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#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#minghao imagines#minghao fluff#minghao x reader#minghao fic#the8 imagines#the8 fluff#the8 x reader#the8 fic#xu minghao imagines#xu minghao fluff#xu minghao x reader#xu minghao fic#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt fic#svt#seventeen
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Nah man. All of these things are symptoms of a book that was badly written for its genre.
This reader's general expectations are pretty clear. Shorter chapters, shorter paragraphs, not a lot of infodumping squeezed into the middle of unrelated things. So probably a more commercially geared genre like thriller, mystery or romance. Probably the latter, considering it's booktok.
So when she encounters stuff like enormous chapters, infodumps in the middle of a conversation, and page-long paragraphs, she has the reading experience to understand - not necessarily articulate, but understand - that this should not be here.
Take the long-ass chapter. Kindle says it'll take her 30 minutes to read. If your average reading speed is on the low end for an adult (220 words per minute), that's 6,600 words. If it's on the higher end (350 WPM), this whole entire chapter is over ten-thousand words long. That is too fucking long! For reference, the average novel is 90,000 words. You'd have fewer than nine chapters in the entire thing if you had chapters this long. Unless the book in question is a quarter million words, this is frankly a sign of a badly written - and massively overwritten - book. Especially in romance, where chapters tend to be shorter (somewhere around 2,000-2,500 words; some shorter books will even keep them around 1,500). She might not have articulated this the way I did, but she feels this and that is perfectly fine.
Same for paragraphs. Long paragraphs are harder to read and follow, that's why paragraph breaks exist. The longer it goes on, the less information from the middle of it you'll retain. And if what you're reading is supposed to be an easy, fun, recreational story? Yeah, reading the beginning and the end of the paragraph is probably enough to give you the important bits, considering you'd probably forget most of the middle anyway unless you put on your Scientific Reading hat in the middle of a romcom. Who wants to do that?
And let's be honest, infodumping giant paragraphs in the middle of dialogue is almost universally regarded as a Bad Thing to do to your reader.
All of those things are fine to criticise. Just because she does it from the point of view of a reader, not a writer, doesn't make it bad or invalid.
Do they know that reading is not mandatory? Nobody is forcing them to read?
#writing#reading#books#the people who refuse to understand genre conventions#and measure everything by epic fantasy lol you'd DIE if you read Malazan standards are insufferable
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Haitani Rindou is known to not be a very serious person.
There is nothing serious about him at all. He liaises with a bored look on his face, doesn't really attend executive meetings unless Mikey is there, and spends the rest of his days at his own club drowning in the girls, the music or the alcohol, and maybe letting off some steam by snatching away Sanzu's job.
But he is serious today. Angry, even.
The air is tense and it reeks of expensive European cologne when he steps one foot into the room. Briefcases filled with illegal substances welcomes his sight on the coffee table and tall stacks of cold, hard cash residing on his desk.
A man sits with one dirty shoe on his favourite British-imported sofa smoking a cigar, and Kokonoi Hajime on the opposite couch calm and collected.
There is also a girl crawling on all fours with a hot pink leash on her neck, tighter than a dog's collar.
Her skin glimmers under the dim lighting 一 with hints of blood that he could still recognise across her arms, but mostly with sweat. Her lips are pale, wobbly, and tears are pouring out of her sockets. Hurt and fear evident in her eyes.
She is you.
The dress that he got you 一 handpicked for you delicately 一 all ripped and torn and it barely clings onto your body anymore like it did all the time. You look like you're about to pass out anytime soon.
Haitani Rindou is filled with rage.
"Ah, Haitani! Just the man that I was looking for. Come, have a seat." The man invites with a huge menacing grin on his face, as he puts out the cigar on his expensive sofa.
It's my fucking office, you motherfucker.
Mario Ricci 一 he thinks it was, pauses counting the stacks of cash in his hands when Rindou does not move as he says. "Hmm?" He follows along his gaze which turns out to be stuck at you on the floor. His Italian accent is thick and heavy when he speaks, almost sounding like an ancient bard.
"I was passing through your halls and I saw this wonderful beauty standing right there, and I thought," he pauses, bending down slow to look at you.
"She'd be a perfect little mutt."
He tugs on the leash looped around his left hand, hard. His cologne fills up your nostrils from the distance and it is the only thing you can breathe in. More tears pool around your eyes as you cough 一 your throat is sore and the skin around it hurts. The buckle pushes hard against the side of your neck and he tugs another time.
"You wouldn't mind if I took this one home with me, yeah? You have plenty of sluts in your establishment already." There is a teasing glint in his eyes when he finally lets go, only to reach down and drag on your disheveled locks of hair.
He guides you like that 一 impatient and harsh 一 while you struggle with movement because you cannot look down at your hands, as you carefully crawl against the carpeted floor with your scalp red and painful.
You start sobbing again when he pulls away, and you lock eyes with the man that owns you, standing by the door.
There is fire in his eyes when he finally sees the picture that Mario painted for him. You're kneeling between his legs with two palms flat on the floor, catching your breath with uncontrollable drool dripping off your tongue.
Like a damn dog.
"God, she'd make a damn good slut. But I'm sure you already are during your time here, yeah, baby?" He taps on your cheek and swipes the drool away.
Your gaze is cloudy when you stare into Rindou's eyes. You're broken and battered. Your eyes no longer bright and shiny as when they used to admire him in the night, in his bed, when you'd draw your fingers along the lines and curves of his tattoos 一 they're filled with fear and you are so tired. You're shaking all around and you're so cold. You're a lot colder than what he's used to letting you feel. His fists tighten any more, deep in his pockets.
But he can still read you like an open book.
"This is a five million dollar deal." Kokonoi cuts in. "Can we be fucking serious? Just take the slut for free, Ricci. She's yours. We have more important things to talk about."
A quiet mewl escapes your throat when Mario grins, very satisfied with Kokonoi's words. You start to cry, begging, when he wraps a hand around your chin and bends down to give your cheek a wet kiss, disgustingly. You don't look away from Rindou the whole time.
Please don't give me away.
The sound of a gun clicking catches everyone's attention. You look him dead in the eye and he can hear you loud and clear.
Haitani Rindou isn't serious about a lot of things.
"Fucking let her go."
But he is serious about you.
"Or I'll put a bullet through your throat and it'll be no deal for all of us."
His own slut.
His favourite girl.
Sequel
#writing#rindou x reader#rindou haitani x reader#rindou haitani#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#tokrev x reader#tokrev#tr x reader#tr#bonten x reader#bonten#tokyo revengers smut
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Gym Crush (Part 2)
Read Part 1 by @exploratorytfs.
It’s been a year and a half since the swap, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about how crazy it all was. You might be wondering—why would I trade the life I had? I mean, I had it pretty damn good.
Before all this, I was hot. Not just passable, but the kind of hot that turned heads. I had worked my ass off to look the way I did—hours at the gym, eating clean, all of it. And then there was Edgar. God, Edgar. This dude was a walking Greek statue: broad shoulders, a thick chest, veins for days. I mean, it wasn’t just the muscles; it was the way he carried himself. Confidence, swagger, like he knew he could get whatever he wanted. And yeah, I guess at the time, he was my boyfriend.
But even with all of that—being hot, dating a hunk like Edgar—I just couldn’t do it anymore.
You’re probably thinking I’m nuts. I mean, guys like Edgar don’t come around often, especially not for guys like me. Let’s be real, most dudes who look like him wouldn’t even give a trans guy like me the time of day. So, yeah, I was lucky. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. I should’ve been happy, but the truth is... I wasn’t.
Why? Well, Edgar. He wanted me to be this perfect, submissive, fem bottom. And look, I’ve got nothing against that. There are guys out there who rock that vibe, who own it, and good for them. That’s just not who I am.
I know, I know—saying this out loud would probably get me canceled in half the gay bars across the country. But I really am masc for masc. Always have been. I’m not saying it to be some sort of gatekeeper or anything; it’s just... that’s what I’ve always wanted for myself.
And it’s not just about who I’m attracted to—it’s about me, too. My whole life, I’ve been trying to prove I’m man enough. To the world. To other guys. Hell, even to myself.
Transitioning was the first step, obviously. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to look the part, you know? That’s why I inked myself up. And the gym was my second home, but even after countless hours of sweat and dedication, I could never quite bulk up. No matter how much protein I shoved down or how hard I lifted, my frame stayed twinky.
Don’t get me wrong—there were plenty of guys who loved me for it. I mean, twinks are kind of a whole thing, right? A lot of guys would’ve killed to look like I did, but that wasn’t the point. It didn’t feel like me. I didn’t just want to be a guy; I wanted to be a man. The kind of man Edgar was.
And Edgar... he didn’t see me that way. Sure, he’d call me hot, touch me like he couldn’t get enough, but then he’d taunt me. He’d weaponize my body. Every time he called me “pussy boy” or made some comment about how he was more of a man than I was, it chipped away at me. He might’ve thought it was playful, but to me it was cruel. And I couldn’t take it anymore.
Initially, I thought if I just stuck it out, maybe things would change. Maybe he’d see me differently, respect me more. He didn’t. My self-esteem tanked. I started dreading the time we spent together, and eventually, I just... stopped putting out.
And of course, that’s when things really fell apart. Edgar doesn’t do well with rejection—big shocker, right? So yeah, I wasn’t exactly surprised when Edgar came sliding back into my DMs after. But honestly, I wasn’t planning on responding. I’d already been down that road, and I’d told myself after the last time—no more.
Still, when I saw what he was pitching, I couldn’t help but be curious. Swapping bodies with a cis guy? At first, I rolled my eyes. Like, thats even possible. But the more I thought about it, the more curious I got.
The guy Edgar had in mind? Not exactly a stunner. When Edgar sent me his photo, I remember staring at it for way longer than I should’ve, trying to pick out anything redeeming. The dude was... average. A little too soft in the face, a little too plain. But, to be fair, there was some potential there. Barely.
His eyes were nice, though—kind of soulful, in a way that made you think he might be a good guy deep down. And the kicker? He was taller than me by a good 6 inches. That alone had my interest. But let’s not kid ourselves; the real selling point was the fact that he had a cock.
That was the dream, wasn’t it? My own cock. I’d spent years dealing with the disappointment of not being able to fully live out the life I wanted. Transitioning had given me so much, but this? This was the missing piece. In this kid’s body, I could finally live out the fantasy that had been sitting in the back of my mind for years.
I could be the top I’d always wanted to be. I could take guys home, pin them down, and breed them with my own cock and fill them with my own cum. No more strap-ons, no more awkward positioning—just me, fully in charge, giving them EVERY. SINGLE. INCH.
Maybe with a little muscle here, a little polish there, I could make it something great.
So I said yes.
I’m not gonna lie—the first year in this body wasn’t easy. Adjusting to a new frame, new habits, new... everything? Yeah, it was a grind. But if there’s one thing I’ve always had, it’s work ethic. Between that and this body’s naturally high testosterone—and okay, yeah, I might’ve dipped into some steroids here and there—I’d say I built myself up pretty damn good.
Look at me now. I run my own training service. I mean, it’s not like I’m the most skilled coach out there or anything. But honestly? That doesn’t seem to matter much. Guys line up for my programs, and we all know why. They don’t just want my advice—they want to look like me. I’m walking inspiration. Living proof that the dream is achievable, or at least that’s how they see it.
And man, the way people treat me now? Everyone’s calling me “bro” or “dude” every other sentence. Not that they didn’t before—I’ve always leaned into that vibe—but there’s something about hearing it now that hits different. Maybe it’s the weight of my cock swinging in my shorts as they say it. It’s like the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Everything just feels... right.
And the best part? This manhood of mine? Oh, it’s gotten around.
I mean, come on. Looking like this, how could it not? Guys want me. They crave me. They crave my fleshy, thick, no kidding, natural, beer can of a cock throbbing inside of them.They’ll do whatever it takes to get a night with me, and honestly, who could blame them?
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Press con questions that weren't shown:
Q: (Jenna Fryer – Associated Press) George, were you guys blindsided by this or have any idea that it was coming or under consideration, that a change in Race Director was coming? GR: No, no idea whatsoever. So, yeah, as I said, it was a bit of a bit of surprise.
Q: (Luke Smith – The Athletic) George, has there been any response from the FIA or the FIA president to what the GPDA put out? GR: No. Not at the moment, which I'm a little bit surprised about, to be fair. But maybe there'll be something to come. Who knows?
Q: (Ben Hunt – Autosport) It's obviously very disappointing to learn from you that there's no transparency at all from the FIA. Was there any response about where the money's going from for all these fines and all that sort of stuff? Because that's another key element which we would quite like to know as well. GR: No, I think ultimately for us, when we were hearing from the FIA a couple of years ago, when it came to the Presidential elections, they were talking about transparency, talking about where the money is going to be reinvested into grassroots racing, which we're all in favour for. And of course, when it comes to some of these large fines, there's a number of drivers on the grid who can comfortably afford these fines. There's maybe some rookies on the grid that if they're handed a $1 million fine, you know, they can't afford this. But if we know where that's being sort of reinvested and if it's going into grassroots or into some training programs, then we get it. As I said, I think we just want the transparency and understanding of what was promised from the beginning.
Q: (Kevin Scheuren – Motorsport-total.com) A question to George as well on that topic. Isn't it a bad sign that you need to open up a social media account to make your voices heard as a collective? Because it sometimes seems, looking from the outside, that the individual, if the individual has an opinion on stuff, he faces repercussions. Now you have to work as a collective. Are you more or less a pawn in this game? Do you drivers feel sometimes more or less as a pawn in this game, not taken serious? GR: I think we've probably learned from the past that whenever we have spoken up, let's say internally, it hasn't gone anywhere. And as I said, as drivers, we only want the best for the sport. We want to improve it, especially on safety grounds, but whenever it comes to, you know, decisions in the race, we only want to help. And it's been a couple of years now that not much has changed when we have sort of given some views forward. And I guess we all wanted to show that we are collectively united. And maybe that will show how seriously we feel as a whole on the subject.
Q: (Andrew Benson – BBC Sport) George, it's been seven years since the GPDA had put out a public statement of this kind about something they were concerned about. What level of confidence do the drivers have in the leadership of the FIA at the moment? GR: I mean, I'm not too sure to be honest. We recognise everybody's working as hard as they can to do the best job possible. There is obviously a huge amount of change within the FIA quite regularly, so it's clearly not the most stable of places. And maybe that's why it's been a bit challenging to get some of the changes that we've wanted implemented. Of course, everyone has their own side to their own story. But as I said, I think if we feel that we're being listened to and some of the changes that we are experiencing, requesting, are implemented, because ultimately we're only doing it for the benefit of the sport, then maybe our confidence will increase. But yeah, I think there's a number of drivers who feel probably a bit fed up with the whole situation. And it only seems to be going in, to a degree, the wrong direction.
Q: (Jordan Bianchi – The Athletic) For all three drivers: you returned to Vegas this year. A year ago, there was a lot of hype and excitement about this race. I'm curious, now that you come back here for a second time, what's the atmosphere like that you guys have kind of experienced so far? Kevin, let's start with you.
GR: Yeah, I mean, it definitely feels strange, this Grand Prix, just living in the night. And like Kevin says, the atmosphere builds up during the course of the weekend. So, yeah, let's see how it goes.
Q: (Anna Cordera – Momentum Racing) George, I'd like to ask you, you've been racing with Lewis for almost three years. What do you think is going to be different now you being the veteran of the team racing with Kimi, regarding the development of the car? GR: Yeah, I mean, ultimately, for most F1 teams, you have near on 1,000 people who are working towards building these two cars, yet you only have two drivers driving it. So, I think, let's say, in Lewis, in my case, it was never that Lewis had a stronger voice. The team listened to us both equally because both of our opinions were extremely important. And the same going into next year. You know, Kimi's new. He's fresh. And I'm sure he's going to have a lot of great ideas to bring to the table. So, you know, I am the more experienced of the two, but we will both get equal voices the same way, and we will both equally contribute towards the development the same way as it was with Lewis and I.
Q: (Ian Parkes – New York Times) Sorry, another question to you, George. George, is it that difficult to try and get a sit-down face-to-face meeting with the President of the FIA to discuss all these issues, that you have to go down the route that you did with that message? GR: It's definitely not difficult to get a sit down, but I think getting things to change or getting promises upheld seems slightly more challenging. So, it's maybe the FIA or the president didn't recognise how seriously we all felt. So I think that's why over the course of 20 races this year and also even last year we spoke about a number of topics, all of the drivers, we all feel pretty similar. We all know what we want from the sport and the direction it's been heading and we probably feel that we want to do a small U-turn on a number of topics and just want to work together with the FIA on this. And that's just what we've felt has not been happening at all, at least directly from the President.
#george russell#f1#formula 1#las vegas gp 2024#fic ref#fic ref 2024#las vegas#las vegas 2024#las vegas 2024 wednesday#with lewis
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yeah so i’m going to need a fix with this tag that you just made “#heeseung's gf listening in on the two of you but she thinks he's jerking off be ur so quiet” i am begging you i need a fic on this even if it’s a short drabble PLEADE
i got you, anon <3 me when I want to write more of these scenarios 😩
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Heeseung’s girlfriend is every bit clueless and hopelessly in love with him. She’s cute, you’ll give her that, but he doesn’t quite match up with Heeseung’s lifestyle and won’t accept that he’s too good for her.
Except, you know you’re a bit biased because Heeseung’s the one who complains about her. Poor girl doesn’t know she’s got two enemies and you’re somebody she only knows through passing. At first everything was polite and civil, even from before you started messing around with him, but these snide remarks and her passive aggressive speech made you feel less guilty for being attracted to her boyfriend.
She comes back to her shared apartment with Hesseung—a decision he says he regrets because they moved in together too fast—and immediately she knows he’s home by his shoes near the front of the door. She takes off her shoes to put her slippers on and walks past his room when she hears the sound of panting breaths and a string of moans.
In the mere minute before she recognized Heeseung’s moans, he’d been making you sound like a wild animal with his cock drilling into you from behind while your knees ache from the bend. You moaned while gripping onto the pillow underneath your chest for support as Heeseung’s hands gripped your hips until he was slapping his big, swollen balls against your pussy.
He’d gotten a text from his girlfriend that she would be home earlier than expected and he cursed loudly, shoving your body off of him.
“Fuck, I can’t have anything.” Heeseung swiped his hand through his hair and you turned around to see him annoyed. “My girlfriend just told me she’d be home in five. Fuck, I don’t know how I’m going to sneak you out.”
“I can climb out of your window. No big deal.” Heeseung shook his head and brought his head down to you in order to press a kiss to your lips.
“No can do, baby. You’re too precious to escape through my window.”
You pushed your hips back against him. “Put it back in.” He laughed and dipped himself in once before pulling out. “Do you think you can be quiet?”
“As a mouse,” you promise.
“Alright, come ride me.”
Heeseung’s girlfriend is none the wiser, finding her panties drenched at the sound of her boyfriend moaning louder than she’s ever heard him. His voice is deep and primal. Every time they’ve ever had sex, he sounds much tamer than this and only gets rough with her when he’s feeling agitated.
He doesn’t sound like that when they have sex. But even so, Heeseung has been fucking her a lot less lately. She chalks it up to the stress of the semester and instead of feeling jealous that Heeseung didn’t call her because he was horny, she’s glad to know he’s getting it out of his system.
She thinks he must be pumping his hand up and down his big cock, using both hands after lubricating himself. It sounds wet from just outside the door and his girlfriend clenched her thighs together as Heeseung chokes out a strangled moan.
You, on the other hand, are grinding your pussy against Heeseung’s cock when you hear the shuffling of his girlfriend from outside. It takes everything in you not to moan your little heart out and you know the reason why he can be as loud as he wants is because he’s supposed to be here. You aren’t. Still, the thought of his girlfriend who he barely fucks listening in on the two of you having sex makes you cum.
Oblivious to your presence, Heeseung’s girlfriend gets hornier every time his breath hitches. She can hear him so clearly now and he’s so close. Just one more moan and she hears her boyfriend cumming with a loud, long groan that makes her panties wet.
When enough time has passed, Heeseung’s girlfriend can hear the sound of kissing. She wonders what it could be and frowns at the idea of him watching porn to get off instead of asking her to send pictures of herself.
Meanwhile, Heeseung looks down at you places another sloppy kiss to your lips. He notices his girlfriend’s shadow walking away and squeezes your hips.
“I’ll get her to leave so you can get out.”
“How are you gonna do that?”
“Probably ask if she wants to get dinner.”
You frown. “Then you’d be hanging out with her.”
“We’ll get takeout and I’ll text you the entire time.” Heeseung slips out of you and helps clean up your abused pussy when his girlfriend shuffles back in front of the door.
The two of you make haste with you moving to one side of their shared room when she knocks. He opens the door and you can barely see what’s going on while you spy through the cracks.
“Hey,” Heeseung says with a monotonous tone.
“Hi, baby.” She tries to give him a kiss but he turns her head until she catches the corner of his mouth. You try not to laugh at her sullen expression but it disappears with another smile. “You know, you could’ve called me.”
“What do you mean?”
She frowns. You can hear it her voice. “You didn’t need to watch porn to get off.”
“Do you want to get takeout? I’m too tired to took and I bet you are too,” Heeseung asks, stepping out and closing the door behind him. He’s already moving her to the front door and you know you’d need to wait a good ten minutes until you’re free to go.
You hear them close the front door as you search for your panties and see the black lace on his pillows. You put them in the drawer on his side of the bed and laugh on your way out.
#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#enha hard thoughts#enha hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#hard thought#heeseung
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lies and flights- o.piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader
summary: you two have a moment, the moment ends, and so does something else...
part one | part two | part three | part four
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He sighed as he walked into the paddock, cameras all over him as question after question was thrown at him. He answered as many as were appropriate and off he went, signing hats and t-shirts as he went. He had so much to do, so much to get through before qualifying, yet all he could think about was you. He didn’t mean to make it a big deal, he just wanted to take care of you. You’d fainted, for god’s sake. He was worried about you.
He caught a glimpse of you walking in with Lando as he was filming some random content for one of the sponsor's instagram pages, and his mood sank lower than it already had been. You with Lando.
It’s not like either of you had confessed, but you’d both felt the chemistry between the two of you, right? He finished up with filming and followed Tom into one of the meeting rooms, ready to look over data, when he (literally) bumped into you, sending you flying.
“Shit, sorry,” he muttered as he caught you, holding you by the waist. “My bad.”
You smiled. “Saving me two days in a row? You should be a bodyguard instead of a driver,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”
Lando’s jaw dropped when he heard you call him ‘Osc’, and a sense of pride bloomed in his chest. Osc was getting the girl! Lando sent him a quick thumbs up behind your back as he also held the camera.
“What’re you doing here?” Oscar asked, not yet letting go of you. His hands were so warm, radiating heat through your whole body and making you nervous. You had a love-hate relationship with interactions with Oscar. He made you so nervous, no matter what. Your years of media training and professionalism could get stripped back by one small chuckle, one small smile, making eye contact. It was embarrassing. You liked him so much, which was a separate can of worms itself, and he looked at you the same way he looked at everyone.
“Motorhome tour,” you explained, looking up at him. He could’ve sworn he saw something in your eyes, something that practically asked him to make a move, to kiss you here in front of everyone. Then it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, your professionalism taking precedence over your feelings. “Moving on,” you turned back to the camera as Oscar dropped his hands from your waist, allowing you to move on. “To the driver’s rooms!”
He chuckled as he watched you and Lando run towards the other side of the motorhome, and Oscar started walking again, not unaware of the eyes Tom was giving him.
“You two seem close,” he smirked. “The shoes aren’t a dealbreaker, no?”
He laughed. “Why does everyone bring up the shoes?!”
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“Congratulations on P3, Judgy McJudgy Pants! How did the race feel?” you questioned. You were doing post-race interviews today, and Oscar had gone from P5 to P3.
“Yeah, it was difficult but we kept a good pace, Max was just too fast to catch,” he nodded, his eyes staring into yours.
“I’m glad to hear, are you glad for the race to be over?”
He nodded, chuckling. “Very glad.”
“The heat must be something else in those cars, on top of the regular heat. Does that make getting out of the car a lot more of a relief?”
“It does, but I was more excited about the interviewer,” he smirked. He was not doing this right now. He was not flirting with you on live television. You got the signal that the interview should end and you let out a quick breath of relief.
“Well thank you, but I in fact need to interview your fellow podium drivers, thanks for your time.”
Lando walked over, ready to take the mic and he smirked at Oscar. “Getting bold?”
He shrugged with a smile. “What’s the worst she can say?”
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"Oscar Jack Piastri!" Nicole's voice rang out as he lifted his phone to his ear. "My son flirting with people on live television is not something I want to see."
He chuckled as he mother continued berating him, and they chatted about the race for a while, before he had to go to the airport. When he walked to his door, ready to leave, he wasn't expecting a knock at the door, nor was he expecting it to be you.
"Hey Y/n," he smiled. "How are you?"
"I'm good thank, you?" you were out of breath. Had you ran here?
"I'm great, thanks. Are you alright?"
You came in and closed the door behind you. "What are you playing at?"
"Excuse me?"
"The interviews, the pictures, everything. What are you doing?" you questioned.
"Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled. "I like you, like, like like you. I thought I made that clear?"
You grimaced and his heart sank.
"It's fine if you don't-"
"Oscar, no, just... it's kind of awful timing and we can't be together, right? That would never work, we hate each other, right?" you rationalised, willing him to agree with you.
As much as he wanted to scream and rip his hair out, he nodded, a flat smile on his face. "Exactly, that's why I was just joking."
You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God!" you chuckled. "Well, congratulations on the win and I'll see you in Qatar, thanks Osc."
"Bye," he smiled half-heartedly, then flung himself back on his bed when you left. You didn't like him back. And what did you mean by 'bad timing'? He spent his entire flight, awake and wondering about what you meant, and thinking over every interaction, wondering if he'd really just made it all up in his head.
But the way you looked at him, it couldn't just be platonic, right?
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yourusername
liked by pierregasly, charlesleclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,928,733 others
yourusername: @.f1, you've been my home for many years and I love you, thank you for starting my career, but also for being my favourite series of motorsports since I was a little girl. But now @.skysports is branching out and I'm moving across the pond at the end of this season to cover @.Indycar and @.nascar ! I'll miss everyone so much, but I am so so so excited to see that the future will bring! 6 races left! (also sad to be missing the historic season that 2025 will be, but oh well!)
comments
user83: oh I'll kms.
pierregasly: we'll miss you xxx liked by: valterribottas, zhouguanyu, landonorris, danielriccardo, charlesleclerc, carlossainz, alexalbon, francocolapinto, liamlawson, yukistunoda, estebanocon, fernandoalonso, jensonbutton, aussiegrit, kevinmagnussen, nicohulkenburg, lewishamilton, georgerussell, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, isakhadjar, paularon, arthruleclerc, lancestroll, checoperez, maxverstappen, alexandrastmleux, kikagomez, lilymhe, rebeccadonaldson.
skysportsf1: We'll miss you most! xxx
tedkravitz: It's been a privilege and an honour to work with you. You truly are the funniest person I've ever met. Your segment on Ted's notebook will be thoroughly missed. You will be thoroughly missed.
charlesleclerc: Bonne chance mon amour! ❤️
yukistunoda: who will organise interviews with me and pierre now? 😿 -> yourusername: I'll ask ted :(
danielriccardo: legend of the sport :) -> yourusername: looking in a mirror are we?
mercedesfmg: we'll miss you y/n! 🩵
mclaren: missing you already! 🧡
user72: guys... has anyone told oscar? -> user21: he must be so upset :( -> user92: yeah his best friend and his crush leaving F1 in the same year.
stakef1: missing you 💚 -> yourusername: manifesting hulkenburg podium next year
lewishamilton: I'll miss you, but you definitely have to come back for some hot laps... maybe Austin next year? -> yourusername: I'm there :)
maxverstappen: sad to see you go, but i can't wait for all the stories :)
landonorris: FUCK I'M CRYING WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS YOU TOO MUCH PLEASE DON'T GO -> yourusername: IT'LL BE FINE LANDO YOU'RE A BIG BOY
patooward: YAY WE GET Y/N!
haasf1team: our favourite interviewer ever ❤️
alpine: missing you loads 🩷
jackdoohan: NO I'M FINE THAT MY BEST FRIEND IS MISSING MY ROOKIE SEASON -> yourusername: I'LL BE IN MELBOURNE AND AT THE LAST FEW RACES!!! -> jackdoohan: ...forgiven.
liamlawson: NO DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE -> yourusername: JACK WILL BE THERE NEXT YEAR CALM DOWN
kimiantonelli: miss you xxx
olliebearman: will be in need of your smoothie recipe since you won't be here to make it :( -> yourusername: I'll send it to you :)
user829: someone check on oscar rn...?? -> user36: fr he's probably sobbing his celeb crush is leaving the paddock for good ->user292: BRO IS IN THE LIKES !!!!!!
redbullracing: we'll be staying tuned to watch shine -> user88: wow a better send-off than daniel got lmao
logansargeant: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 😁😁😁😁 -> yourusername: ME NEITHER
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He stared at his phone in shock.
What. The. Fuck.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
part one | part two | part three | part four
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader
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SIMPLE !
pairings: jude bellingham x lewis hamilton’s assistant!reader
summary: after your first few dates with jude, everything seems to be going smoothly. however, there’s just one problem: your boss seems to hate your new boyfriend.
warnings: judeyn being dumbasses.
author’s note: part of my dream girl universe. for best enjoyment, read after the first instalment. assistant2 also makes her first official appearance!!
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📍 berlin, germany.
tagged: judebellingham
liked by ham1ltonshaderoom, jobebellingham and 2,837,918 others.
yourinstagram: the photos he takes of me vs the one i take of him. i think you all can see the better photographer.
view all 1,108,928 comments
user1: LOVE seeing hot people date each other.
-> user11: i love seeing two hot people be BESTIES.
user2: JUDE IS TAKEN ???!!!! NOOOOOOO
-> user3: babe… you didn’t have a chance at all. like please be serious.
-> user13: thank god they aren’t actually dating tho.
user4: my gf <3
-> judebellingham: who even are you.
-> user4: we can share <3 i can keep her satisfied thru the weekend u have the weekdays king.
jobebellingham: love this yn. he looks so depressed and ugly.
-> judebellingham: U JEALOUS ASF 😹
-> jobebellingham: yn i’ll paypal you £50 rn if you post more ugly pictures. which is all his pictures really.
-> yourinstagram: challenge accepted 🫡
lewishamilton: you look good yn!
-> user5: and what about jude??
-> lewishamilton: what about him?
-> user6: NOT YN’S HUSBAND HAVIN BEEF W/ HER BFF 😭
user7: lip combo?!!??
-> yourinstagram: i’m not a gatekeeper. it’s on my tiktok!! my most recent one <3
user8: you did my king so dirty with that one pic…. LMFAO DO IT AGAIN
-> yourinstagram: 🫡🫡
user10: their friendship is so cute!!
user12: yn is moving up in the world!!! from bts delulu to besties with JUDE BELLINGHAM
-> yourinstagram: blocking you! 😃
-> user12: you can block me but you can’t erase ‘hobisbabymama’
-> yourinstagram: HELLO?2&/9£/
user9: WHERE IS LANDO?!
-> user10: she blocked his main and his ten other side accounts because she’s secretly in love with him and wants to leave loser jude for him.
-> user9: hi lando 😁
user10: no roscoe pic?
-> yourinstagram: sorry babe :(( he’s at home with his dad and i’m on holiday. assistant2 has some highlights of him on her page!! <3
judebellingham: why do i look so depressed
-> yourinstagram: idk <3 want to get ice cream?
-> judebellingham: .. yeah
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title: my girlfriend’s boss (l,39) hates me and it’s ruining my relationship. help?
hi all, i don’t really post on here, but i’m at my wit’s end and need advice. i (j, m21) have been dating my girlfriend (y, f24) for a couple of months now, and it’s been brilliant. she’s smart, funny, beautiful, and honestly the kindest person i’ve ever met. here’s the catch: her boss (l, m39), who also happens to be an insanely famous athlete and very wealthy, clearly hates me.
y works as his personal assistant, and from what she’s told me, l has always been good to her. she’s known him for years, and he’s helped her out a lot in her career. she always says he’s like family, but ever since she introduced me to him, he’s been awful.
it started small, like him calling me “mate” in that condescending way that makes you feel about two feet tall. but last week, i went to pick y up from work, and he gave me this look—you know the type, the kind that says, “you’re not good enough to breathe the same air as her.” i tried to play it off, but it’s eating at me.
another time, we ran into him at a café, and he made this offhand comment about how “footballers aren’t known for their brains.” y tried to laugh it off, but i felt like an absolute idiot.
then there was the incident with the tickets. y mentioned she’d been offered two box seats for a big match, courtesy of l, and we were both so excited to go. but when she told him i was going with her, he suddenly “remembered” he’d promised them to someone else. i know it sounds paranoid, but it feels deliberate.
to make matters worse, y thinks i’m overreacting. she says l is just protective of her because they work closely together, but i can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. she brushes off his weird behaviour, but come on—this is the same man who asked her to taste-test a box of chocolate truffles because he couldn’t decide which to order for himself. (weird, right?)
it’s not just the comments, though. y told me l doesn’t usually care who his staff date, but she mentioned he’s suddenly started asking loads of questions about me, like whether i’ve been in trouble before or if i’m serious about her. it’s like he’s looking for a reason to disapprove. y thinks he’s being protective, but i swear he just doesn’t like me. here’s the problem: i’m pretty sure he hates me. actually, scratch that—i know he hates me.
i’m spiralling here. what if l starts sabotaging our relationship? y says she’s not going anywhere, but i can’t shake the feeling he’s got some weird power over her. am i just being insecure, or is there something seriously wrong here? what do i do?
top comments:
soggy_pigeon: nah, this is classic alpha behaviour. he’s marking his territory. he probably sees her as more than just an assistant, if you know what i mean. tread carefully.
fluffybananas: footballers aren’t known for their brains. maybe he has a point.
spicy_gravy: dude, he’s probably jealous you’ve got abs and a girl who loves you. chill.
randomuser_123: sounds like you’re dating your boss’s work spouse.
tofu_throwaway: i think l’s just jealous because y spends more time with you now. he’s like a toddler upset that someone’s playing with his favourite toy.
ladybantheboys: ok but what if it’s the opposite? like, what if l approves of you but is being mean on purpose to test if you’re good enough for her?
football4ever: j, mate, you’re overthinking. l’s just a famous bloke who doesn’t want to lose his assistant to some random guy. show him you’re not random. take him out for a pint or something.
memequeen420: this reminds me of when i had a cat and got a new dog. the cat hated the dog at first but now they’re best friends. just give it time.
plshelpme1998: have you tried googling “how to win over your girlfriend’s boss”? there’s bound to be a wikiHow.
bananabreadbae: mate, if he wanted her, he’d have made a move by now. maybe he just doesn’t like footballers. not everyone does, you know.
user2847: honestly, the truffle thing makes me think he’s the weird one. does he do this with everyone or just y? if it’s just her, he’s probably got some weird older-brother complex going on.
ultimategoblin69: maybe he wants to adopt you. famous people do weird shit like that.
yogurtbutter: ok but what if you’re the problem? maybe you’re just a bit annoying and he senses it. famous people have great instincts.
iamnotanon: have you considered sabotaging him back? like, nothing serious, but maybe show up in a better suit than him one day. alpha vibes only.
opinionatedowl: this is a power thing. l’s rich and famous, and he’s used to being in charge. stand your ground, but don’t disrespect him. he’s probably testing you.
thecheeseman: it sounds like a bad rom-com where l secretly approves of you but can’t admit it because he’s emotionally constipated. if i were you, i’d play the long game.
spicywaterlover: wait… what if l is secretly in love with y and you’re the obstacle? plot twist.
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edit: wow, ok. this has been a ride. thanks for all the comments, even the wild ones. i think i’ll try the “pint” suggestion, but i draw the line at sabotage. will update if anything changes (or if i get adopted).
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liked by messyassuser, lando11priv and 1,938,882 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: football star jude bellingham seen cuddling and being affectionate with his new girl! she has been identified as yn yln, she is the personal assistant of f1 icon lewis hamilton. they were spotted outside a restaurant in las vegas after the grand prix all boo’d up! according to sources, they were all loved up at the after party. they ‘didn’t leave each other’s space’. what do we think about this new couple ham1ltons?
view all comments
user1: who tf even is she
-> user2: a baddie. she’s seriously so funny and sweet. you guys should see her tiktok or insta pages. jude is punching above his weight.
user3: oh!
user4: HOTTIES!!!
user5: why they doing the most in public???
-> user6: they’re in love? girl lmao.
-> user7: she’s his beard or he’s hers. idk yet. i need to consult the stars.
-> user8: ^ me when i’m off my meds.
user9: am i the only one who thinks they’re cute? good for them!!
user10: um i think she’d be happier with lando.
-> user11: lando please how are you still making new accounts.
-> user10: i’m totally not the handsome and gorgeous lando. i’m actually… pando. hi.
user12: my gf and my bf are dating??? i’m gonna be sick.
-> user13: they got two hands.
user14: they’re rlly dating???
-> user15: no bitch. they’re just coworkers 🙄
-> user14: oh! thank you :D
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UPDATE: my girlfriend’s boss (l,39) hates me and it’s ruining my relationship. help?
hi all, it’s j again. thanks for the advice on my last post—it was a mix of helpful, hilarious, and… well, a bit unsettling. but it gave me the push i needed to talk to l. here’s what happened:
i decided to man up and ask him out for a pint to clear the air. i figured it was the most normal thing to do. well, turns out l’s teetotal (thanks, y, for not warning me properly). when i suggested a pint, he just looked at me for a second and went, “i don’t drink, mate,” in that calm, terrifying way he has. i panicked, said something about tea, and left feeling like an absolute idiot.
but two days later, he called y at work and told her to invite me round to his place for tea. TEA. this man lives in a house that looks like it’s straight out of a Bond film, so you can imagine how intimidating it was to rock up with a packet of biscuits like some budget offering.
long story short, we had tea, and he cleared the air. he admitted he’d been giving me a hard time because he wanted to make sure i was serious about y. he said she’s like family to him (didn’t say “work spouse,” thank god), and he needed to know i’d treat her right. honestly, it was a bit awkward, but also kind of sweet.
so yeah, we’re good now. he even said he’d save me a seat for the next big race. i don’t know if that was a peace offering or a power move, but i’ll take it.
thanks for the push, reddit. you lot are mad, but in a good way. most of the time.
comments:
ladybantheboys: told you he was testing you! this is literally every rom-com ever. next step: you accidentally bond over an inside joke, and he becomes your biggest fan.
bananabreadbae: this is so british it hurts. “sorry i was mean, let’s have tea.” mate, at least you passed the test!
football4ever: called it! blokes like him just want to make sure you’re solid. now you’re in his good books, you’re set for life. congrats, mate.
memequeen420: so… what kind of biscuits did you bring? was it something boring like digestives, or did you go all out with hobnobs? we NEED to know.
randomuser_123: this is like when my dog hated my boyfriend at first but then they bonded over cheese. sometimes it just takes time.
tofu_throwaway: glad it worked out, but honestly, i’m still a bit scared of l. even through your post, he sounds like he could crush a man with a single stare.
iamnotanon: congrats on passing the test. now don’t mess it up, or i guarantee he’ll make you disappear. rich people have connections.
ultimategoblin69: you went to his house?! are you sure it wasn’t a trap? like, did he subtly scan your fingerprints for future blackmail material?
plshelpme1998: like, this whole thing is giving weirdly protective father vibes. good luck, mate.
user2847: what does his house smell like? no, seriously. i feel like rich people’s houses have that “old money” smell, like leather and expensive wood polish. was it intimidating?
(deleted): send feet pics.
opinionatedowl: so… when’s the wedding? i’m assuming l will walk her down the aisle now that you’ve been knighted into his inner circle.
thecheeseman: this is the most British solution ever. “i made you feel terrible, but here, have some earl grey, and now we’re mates.” glad it worked out though!
memequeen420 (again): STILL no answer on the biscuits. j, you’re avoiding the REAL questions here. were they branded or store-brand? did he eat one? this is important.
weirdcookieperson: did he sniff you when you walked in? like, does he have a heightened sense of smell? rich people are weird, man.
alphamale_uk: mate, you handled this all wrong. never apologise, never offer tea, and NEVER back down to another alpha. you should’ve walked in, sat in his chair, and asserted dominance. that’s how you gain respect. next time, bring steak, not biscuits. real men bond over meat, not tea.
j (op): l’s vegan, mate. bringing a steak would’ve been like waving a red flag at a bull. also, this isn’t Planet of the Apes, it’s just tea. chill.
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j (op): wow, i forgot how weird reddit is. for the record: branded hobnobs. because i’m not a monster. no sniffing, no fingertip scanning and i’ll get someone to update you if i go missing. cheers for the laughs.
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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @23victoria @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)
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#dream girl universe シ#jayde’s works ☆#lewis hamilton social media au#lewis hamilton x reader#jude bellingham x black reader#jude bellingham smau#jude bellingham x y/n#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fanfic#f1 smau#football smau#formula one smau#formula one imagine
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And since you're such an angel, I would love some:
snow angels with doctor!remus
Thank you and please hydrate 💧
Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words
Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you.
“Yeah.”
“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom.
“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have.
He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?”
“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm.
“You should have called me, sweetheart.”
“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.”
Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it.
“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling.
Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up.
“Remus,” you whine.
He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.”
You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry.
“No.”
You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?”
“Yes, love. Relax.”
Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger.
“Ow—Rem!”
“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.”
“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader.
“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?”
You make your displeasure known through your silence.
“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.”
“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad.
“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way.
He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Headache?”
You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?”
“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.”
“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it.
He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.”
#mae's 8k#doctor!remus lupin#remus lupin au#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin hurt/comfort#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Could I have request for first year? You can choose them. About reader inviting to go out with them? Anything, probably going to park or go to restaurant. I'm a sucker for romance.
inviting the first years on a date ✧・゚
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Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long. I write fics with every character/scenario so doing the whole set of first years was a lot of fics, a lot of words. I hope each one is good! I love the first years, especially my boys Epel, Ortho, and Deuce! ^^
Thank you for requesting and feel free to request again!!
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Summary: The reader asks the first years to go on a date. Includes all first years for headcanons and scenarios. This means that it includes: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Ortho Shroud, and Sebek Zigvolt.
TW/CW: None
Notes: established relationship, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns used for the reader, the reader is also a first-year/frosh (implied ~16ish)
Guest Stars: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Malleus Draconia
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Ace Trappola
Ace agrees right off the bat. He doesn't bat an eye.
He's even a little miffed [Name] asked him first.
He was planning to ask [Name] out, you know!
But it doesn't matter, the date's happening either way :)
Ace suggests that he and [Name] sneak out.
Something about not wanting to deal with the housewardens.
Even if [Name] protests, Ace will insist on sneaking about.
It's not a good idea but Ace had it so... it's impulsive.
"Come on, [Nickname]," Ace whispered to [Name], "You're gonna get us caught. You want to go on a date or not?"
Trying to make as little sound as possible, Ace came back towards [Name] to help them untangle themself from an unfortunately placed bush that had snagged their clothing. He held an index finger to his lips as he shushed them once more.
He still couldn't believe they asked him out first. The gall.
"If you want to go out at night like this," he continued, "Then you need to get better at sneaking around. Want to get collared?"
"I'm not part of your dorm," [Name] whispered back.
"That doesn't save you anything."
[Name] was about to retort but paused to consider it.
"Yeah," they agreed with a laugh, you're right."
Ace sighed. They were going to make this difficult, huh? If they got caught then what was it all for. Caught before they could even go on the date? That's just... kind of sad.
"Shh! No laughing until we're away from the main building."
"Fine, fine," they agreed, "We'd better not get detention for this."
The last time they had gone with an "Ace Plan" it had caused a week's worth of detention for both of them. The professors did not take kindly to Ace's schemes. They seemed almost disappointed that [Name] was involved with it too, but that didn't spare [Name] from detention.
"Relax, you worry too much. What are you, Deuce?"
[Name] laughed again and Ace covered their mouth with his hand. They moved his hand away a second later to respond.
"I like to think I've got more guts than Deuce."
"Good, then act like it," Ace told them, leading them toward the school gates, "We're gonna have an adventure tonight."
[Name] gave Ace a look. What was he talking about? Going out to the city after dark was their idea for a date. Why was Ace talking big?
"Wasn't this date my idea?" they asked him.
"Yeah, but I can't let you upstage me all the time." Ace smiled at them as he spoke, "I'm gonna get you back for that tenfold."
"For what?"
"Doesn't matter," he responded, taking their hand in his, "Let's go!"
They really loved this guy, even if it meant all the detentions and magic-removing collars in the world. Smiling along with him, [Name] squeezed Ace's hand as they let him lead their way.
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Deuce Spade
Deuce swears in front of [Name].
"Holy shit."
And then he covers his mouth right after, begging to do it over.
He didn't mean to say it, it was just his instinctual thought!!
Deuce's brain is composed of a long list of curse words and a perpetual fear of being expelled from Night Raven (again).
He tells [Name] that he would be glad to go on a date with them.
Deuce confides that he hasn't been on a date before because of his past in which he thought he was too much of a "bad boy" for that.
He's oddly excited about the date, in a way that makes him seem younger than he already is at sixteen.
Unlike Ace (previous scenario), Deuce thinks that he should ask his upperclassman, so he seeks out Trey in the kitchen.
Deuce, face burning red, led [Name] by hand through the halls of Heartslabyul Dorm. They were headed toward the kitchen to find the bespectacled man who would (hopefully) grant them permission to go on their date. Or, that was about how Deuce explained it and [Name] was just in for the ride now that Deuce had apparently broken some kind of honor student's vow by swearing in front of them.
"Please tell me you're not asking for Trey-san's blessing."
"What?" Deuce turned to look at them, "No! We need to ask permission if we want to go into town."
"We're going into town?" [Name] asked him.
This was far more than they had planned. Deuce nodded. If they were going on a date, a real date, Deuce wanted it to count. And from all the varying media he had consumed in his young life... going on a date meant going into town and doing... Uh. Cute couple-y things.
"I want this to be perfect," Deuce confessed, clearly trying to be cool but failing due to the redness of his cheeks, "You know?"
[Name] nodded.
"Right, perfect, yeah," they agreed.
The two arrived at the doorway into the kitchen of Heartslabyul.
"Clover-senpai?" Deuce asked, poking his head in to see Trey at work mixing some kind of batter, "Do you have a minute?"
[Name] poked in after Deuce, smiling at the smell of sugar from Trey's baking. They hoped they might get some of whatever it was.
"Hm? A minute or two, sure," Trey offered, smiling as he looked toward them, "What's up?"
"Uh," Deuce began, "[Name] and I..."
"[Name] and you...?"
"We were wondering if we could go on a date?"
"I mean, that seems like your decision, not mine," Trey said, teasing the boy for his phrasing just a bit, "But I assume you mean going into town?"
"Ah. Yes!"
Deuce nodded, trying to hide the fact that the redness that had faded was back in full bloom. [Name] felt a bit bad for him and decided to help.
"We wanted to make sure it was alright to go off campus," [Name] added, "Don't want to break any rules. So we came to ask you."
Trey just laughed softly at the two of them.
"It's fine with me, I'll let Riddle know," he told Deuce and [Name], "I assume you'd rather not write the essay to him yourselves."
Deuce nodded once more, looking at [Name] and urging them to nod too. Writing an essay for Riddle was never a fun task. It took more time to write the stupid essay than to do the thing you were writing the essay about.
"Thank you, Clover-senpai," Deuce said, bowing to him.
"Mhm! Thanks, Trey!" [Name] agreed as they mimicked Deuce's action.
Trey smiled at the two underclassmen of his.
"Heh, you two have fun."
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Jack Howl
Jack is at a loss for words. [Name] wants to go on a date with him?
What is the protocol here?
Part of him wants to ask Leona as an upperclassman...
But then the other guys will laugh at him!!! :(
He nods slowly, face tinged a red slightly.
He agrees to the date and says it would be rude to say "no."
Despite the somewhat gruff answer, his tail is wagging.
If it's pointed out, he will flat-out deny it as it wags faster.
Jack would rather die than let the other guys tease him about his date but God does not favor dogboys today.
In the end though... Leona is a smart guy...
Jack wasn't sure what to do. What do you do when you're asked on a date by the person you like? Do you say "yes"? He wanted to panic, just a tad. This was beyond his typical day, not something that he was used to. Did he have anywhere to turn for advice?
He could ask Leona... No, then Ruggie would laugh at him.
The wolf sighed, composing himself as he turned back to [Name].
"Uh, sure. I'll go with you," he told them.
That wasn't what he wanted to say but that sure was what he said. He had wanted to seem happier about it but his tone wouldn't allow it. Jack found that it was hard to sound how he was feeling. How did the actors in those movies do it? He couldn't express how he was feeling, how could he do that with another person's feelings?
[Name] had just smiled and him and told him they were looking forward to it before they took their leave. What did he do now? Jack was sure there was more to this whole dating business...
But where to start...
"Leona-senpai," Jack said, finding himself in the botanical garden later that same day, "Do you think that people can understand you from a sentence?"
The lion was sleeping or rather he was trying to while Jack asked him questions. It was luck that Jack had been asked to fetch something from the garden for class.
"What?" Leona offered, opening an eye to look at Jack, "Jack, I have no idea what in the fuck you're on about."
"Do you think [Name] understood me?" Jack asked.
"I mean if they're still going on the date, probably," Leona said, closing his eyes with a sigh, "This is one of those things time will tell or whatever. Just go on the date and see what happens."
"You sure?"
"I am. So stop asking me how [Name] feels and get back to class. You need it."
Jack tried to ignore that obvious snub from a guy who was skipping most of his classes on any given day. But... Leona was right. He had to go on this date and see what became of his relationship with [Name] from there. "...Thanks."
"Whatever, can you go now?"
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Epel Felmier
Epel's first comment is that he would love to go on an outing.
He isn't embarrassed and doesn't think it's a "date" at first.
When [Name] clarifies that it is a date, Epel blushes.
"Ah? Well, if ya want to go somewhere with me, let's do it!"
Even though he feels a bit shy about it, he's still enthusiastic.
Depending on the outing, his energy may return during the date.
Epel thanks [Name] for giving him an out from Vil's makeup lessons. He didn't want to learn about blending properly today.
Mentioning his housewarden he realizes he'll need permission.
Epel asks [Name] if they will help him ask Rook about it.
Epel sighed softly as he came to the realization that as a first year, he would need permission to leave the campus for their date in the mountains. There were only two people to be asked: Housewarden Vil Schoenheit... Or Vice Housewarden Rook Hunt.
"Let's ask Rook-senpai," Epel told [Name], who nodded, "I don't think Vil-senpai would take kindly to me asking him to go into the mountains instead of learn a..."
Epel counted something on his fingers for a moment, hoping that [Name] couldn't see the redness on his cheeks that had yet to fade.
"A... 45-step makeup routine."
Epel looked disgusted at the prospect of the "lesson" and [Name] fought back the urge to laugh at the cute pout on the boy's face.
"That is a lot of steps," [Name] agreed, "Where is Rook-san?"
"Watching..." came Epel's answer, "He usually does the finding."
That was a true statement. Rook usually stumbled across Epel. The use of the phrase "stumble across" is largely for the sound of it as Rook always had eyes on Epel. It was an order from their Queen, after all. He couldn't allow himself to come across the lavender-haired boy by chance, Rook needed to keep a focus on his prey beloved underclassman.
"Hmm, so how do we find him?" [Name] asked which earned a sigh from Epel, "Epel?"
"ROOK-SENPAI! I HAVE A QUESTION!" Epel shouted into the front garden of Pomefiore.
From thin air, Rook Hunt appeared next to Epel and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin despite being the one who had called out to Rook. [Name] was so surprised their scream was silent as their hand flew to their chest in startlement.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Pommette!" Rook greeted with a grin.
"Hi..." Epel said after catching his breath, "Rook-senpai..."
"Did you need something?~" Rook asked, a knowing look crossing his features, "Or were you in need of our Queen, the most Beautiful Vil?"
"No, no! Just you is more than enough, I mean... I needed to ask you somethin' if you have time?" Epel said, the sentence only barely flowing properly.
He wanted to ask the question but his mind worked faster than his lips could parse. The resulting sentence left much to be desired.
"Oh?"
Rook awaited the question.
"I want to go into the mountains with [Name] this weekend," Epel said, "Do I have your, uhm, permission to do that?"
The blond seemed to ponder this for a moment as Epel stood there staring. It was all up to Rook if he was allowed to have his first relationship. He wanted to. Epel wanted this part of a school experience too...
But Vil might not approve, and Rook was loyal to him.
Epel glanced at [Name] for a moment.
Would they be angry if Rook made him say "no"?
"Ah, merveilleux!" Rook spoke, surprising both [Name] and Epel out of their personal thoughts, "Chase after love as I do, Epel!"
What?
Epel didn't know what that meant. Well, he thought it might be approval, but with Rook, one could never tell. So he asked.
"...Uhm. Is that a yes?"
"Oui."
Epel couldn't fight the urge and pumped his fist in the air before composing himself as quickly as he could. Vil didn't see that, Vil wouldn't know... Unless Rook told him. Worries for later.
"Well, I'll see you this weekend, [Name]," Epel told them with a laugh and a sweet smile, "Let's make this one count."
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Ortho Shroud
[Name] asks Ortho if he would like to see a movie.
Ortho says that he would love to go out with a friend.
He needs to ask his brother if he can go out with you.
[Name] makes a joke that if Ortho were older and perhaps not a robot/android it could be like a "date" for the two of them.
Ortho laughs and agrees that if it were Idia, it would be.
He knows about dates from Idia's visual novel collection and the internet (remember how he has access to the entire web?)
The two decide to prank Idia and tell him it IS a date.
Ortho argues that Idia needs to be surprised once in a while or he would just only play video games and hide in his dorm room.
Idia has a near heart attack over "Ortho's first date."
Ortho is unembarrassed by the question and excited to go!
He doesn't understand what might be embarrassing about an outing with the Prefect. It's not like it's a real date or anything.
Ortho laughed at [Name]'s baffled expression. They seemed shocked that he had agreed. Had they expected some other outcome?
"What? Did you expect me to say no?" the synthetic human asked them, coming just a bit closer, "I'll have you know I like spending time with you too! It's nice to have friends to go places with."
[Name] stuttered out stray sounds for a moment before they were able to phrase anything that was understandable language.
"I just thought you'd be busy since you're always with Idia-san."
"Hehe, my brother does keep me pretty busy," Ortho agreed before pausing, "Oh, that reminds me!"
[Name] looked at Ortho as he spoke.
"We need to ask my brother if I can go with you."
Ortho explained this as if it were obvious and [Name] supposed it was a natural source of events.
"Right now?"
In response to [Name]'s question, Ortho nodded.
"It would be best to do it sooner rather than later."
"Ah, alright!" [Name] replied.
They had expected Idia's consent would be somewhere in the steps it took to ask Ortho on an outing. Hopefully, this won't be too much of a hassle, they thought. The last thing they needed was more chaos.
"Follow me, [Full Name]-san!" Ortho cheered, floating off to guide [Name] from the hallway to the mirror that entered Ignihyde's dormitory.
It was a different kind of dorm, [Name] supposed. Ignihyde did not look anything like the other dorms. Though each dorm was unique, Ignihyde looked from a different time period with some of its elements. [Name] was used to it, though. This was not their first nor last time in this dormitory, however, it was their first time traveling to Idia and Ortho's bedroom.
Without knocking, Ortho opened the door. Before them was Idia Shroud dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants while he seemed to be typing one of the longest comments [Name] had ever seen (though they couldn't make out what it said).
"Nii-san!" Ortho called out, making Idia prickle, "I need to ask you something!"
"WHAT?" came a louder-than-normal exclamation from the blue-haired boy, "I mean... Oh, Ortho... Yeah?"
"[Full Name]-san asked me to go to a movie with them this weekend. Am I allowed to go with them?" Ortho asked with a smile, speaking as though it was the most basic question in the world.
In reality, it was a fairly simple question, but not for Idia. The Ignihyde Housewarden froze, feeling the shock of the comment strike him to his core. Idia lunged forward and took Ortho by the shoulders.
"They asked you out on a date?" Idia asked him.
"They want to go to the movies—"
Ortho did not get to finish his sentence.
"A DATE, ORTHO?" Idia continued, louder, ignoring [Name]'s presence intentionally or not as he put Sebek's typical volume to shame.
"We're going to the movies—"
Ortho once again did not get to finish his sentence.
"This is just like the new anime I've been watching, but you're so... You're too young to be experiencing a shoujo anime!"
"Nii-san..." Ortho tried to reason with his older brother.
"Idia-san..." [Name]'s tone mirrored Ortho's.
"Fine, fine. I can't, like, be the opposition. That would be so uncool of me if I were to ruin the interaction between the ML and his love interest," Idia decided.
In the end, Ortho and [Name] never did get to clarify the categorization of their outing with Idia. They supposed he would just get to think whatever it was he thought until it was out of his system.
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek tries to refuse as he is "busy" with his work as a guard.
Malleus needs him, is his primary argument.
Sadly Malleus is quick to disprove this theory.
Sebek gawks as his master instructs him to participate in the human custom of a "date" to better his homeland.
Sebek is too offended at first to be embarrassed...
But then it sets in and his face is such a bright red it makes his hair look a bit silly with its green color.
He stutters and is unable to talk to [Name] for a minute or so.
He settles on nodding while this happens
In the end, he yells as per usual "OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."
Never a quiet moment with this one.
Sebek wasn't sure what to make of the words the human uttered. They wanted him to do what? That seemed highly inappropriate. Did he need to refuse this offer? He did think it was somewhat tempting, though. He did not hate this human. They were... not as irritating at the other humans at Night Raven College.
"Human," Sebek began, "I am afraid that I must refuse this invitation as I.. cannot forsake my role as a guard to Waka-sama."
He watched as their expression fell even if only slightly.
"Ah, alright then..." they managed to say before an awe-inspiring presence interrupted them.
"Sebek," Malleus spoke, his voice causing Sebek to straighten up more than he had been before the arrival of his master, "What is going on here, exactly?"
"W-Waka-sama," the halfling spoke, stuttering the first bit of his sentence from the surprise, "I was just alerting this human that I cannot leave your side for a... a 'date' of some kind."
Malleus raised an eyebrow.
So this was what it was about.
"And why can you not accompany this child of man?"
[Name] perked up at a mention of them as Sebek fumbled for an answer for the prince.
"Well, you see, I am your guard, after all..." he began, but Sebek soon fell silent under a piercing glare from Malleus.
"Sebek," the fae prince spoke in a low tone, "Will you do something for me?"
"Yes? Yes, of course, sir!"
"Guard this human on the date they have planned, this is imperative to Briar Valley."
Sebek's posture tensed even more at the order as he bowed to Malleus. [Name] stood there baffled by the sight of it all.
"AH! Of course, Waka-sama! Whatever you desire!"
Though Sebek did not notice it, [Name] could have sworn they saw Malleus smirk at the outcome. Had he done this with the intent to help them? They supposed they could always ask him about it later.
"So you can come with me?" [Name] asked Sebek a moment later.
"OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."
[Name] just laughed. The answer was... very Sebek.
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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^
#epel felmier#jack howl#sebek zigvolt#deuce spade#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst#x reader#epel felmier x reader#jack howl x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#deuce spade x reader#ortho shroud x reader#ace trappola x reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#twst x reader#twst fanfic#twst headcanons#imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#guest starring: idia shroud#guest starring: trey clover#guest starring: leona kingscholar#twst yuu#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#guest starring: rook hunt#guest starring: malleus draconia#kiyo cant write twst
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Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it 😫😭
summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward – but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship?
w/c: 3.3k
note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy… basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance
also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them 😮💨😖
It’s almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed.
He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now you’ll be coming out of the door.
And just as a slew of students’ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly – Joy, maybe? – before you look to the other side and finally see him.
“Jungkook!” You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. “Sorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?” He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face.
Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you don’t fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back.
He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.
Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like it’s normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.
“You really did cut your hair.” You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he can’t help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears.
“I sent you a picture.” He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actor’s haircut… and look, it’s not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bit…
Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice.
And you tell him so. “I like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!” You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. “I was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I wasn't, and uh, thank you.”
“You're welcome. Anyway,” you say, “Did you wait for long earlier? Sorry ‘bout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit ‘cause there were a lot of questions about our new project.”
“You have a new project?”
“Yeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and it’s a paired task thing, that’s why you saw me with Joy earlier—”
He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him.
You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. “Sorry.” you say with a jutted lip and a little frown.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you don’t watch your surroundings, he’ll just do it for you. He doesn’t mind.
You grin. “Anyway… I was saying, it’s a hotel interior. But! The thing is, it’s a themed hotel, which I’m really excited about ‘cause I’m tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.”
Jungkook nods. “I think so too. What’s the themed hotel about?”
“Have you heard of a film called Metropolis?” He shakes his head. You nod at that. “Well, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and it’s a silent film from the ‘20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic – at least for that time. So that’s the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.”
Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the terms he doesn’t understand because you always take time to explain it to him in layman’s. It’s funny, really, because ever since he’s learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.
Maybe it’s because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and there’s always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkook’s at peace with himself now that he’s just one of those people.
He’s willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You don’t exactly make it hard to.
And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isn’t… so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because you’re obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.
A lot of people would say he’s making up for all the times he’s ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldn’t go back to the life where you weren’t within his perimeter. Couldn’t imagine you both being back to – practically – regular strangers, so he just… opened up to you more.
He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align.
And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior – but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you.
Because frankly, he’s starting to feel like it's a little more than that.
He’s not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because he’s trying to make up for the past – he’s doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you… with you… to you… and just… just more.
He wants more with you.
And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings.
Because he knows he’s been stupid all this time not to realize right away that he’s got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy – it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldn’t comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.
But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until he’s sure of what you truly think about.
You’re always nice to him. But you’re kind of nice to everybody… so that gets him a little twisted.
On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out – when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.
He just can’t tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and that’s what’s been on his mind lately.
“Oh, Kookie,” you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that – but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, “I can’t go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.”
“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Rain check?”
You pout. “Yeah.”
“You can do it at my place? Hoseok’s doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he won’t be there ‘til the morning.”
“But I didn’t bring my laptop today.”
With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. “It’s alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,” he smiles. “Sleepover?”
Jungkook doesn’t want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.
“I want to, but I don’t want to impose.” You say.
Instantly, Jungkook’s forehead creases. “You won’t be imposing.” When he sees that you’re about to decline again, he lets out a, “Please?”
At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment.
“Uh…” you trail off. “You sure? Are you not busy tonight?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busy–” you nudge his arm at that, laughing. “– but other than that, no. I’ll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?”
“I’d really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.” You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?
“I think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.” Jungkook says before you’re muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted “thank you” when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you.
He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he can’t help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if you’re so used to being in his car – which you are.
And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him.
“You’re done?” Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well.
“Yep.”
“Then come here already.” He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him.
It’s nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkook’s shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. You’ve both already showered – separately, of course – and that’s one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet.
“‘M so tired” You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkook’s abdomen.
“Meeting went well?” Jungkook asks, and he’s a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but that’s okay, because soon you’re leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt.
“Yeah, we got some work done,” You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. “I think I’m sleepy now.”
“Yeah?” He follows after you, and he doesn’t hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. “My first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.”
“I have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.”
“Tough.”
“I know… I wish I didn’t enlist in morning classes.”
He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesn’t want to give into that just yet.
“You were with Jae on Monday?” He asks, carefully treading through the subject. It’s Thursday now. It's not like Jungkook’s a jealous guy… it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didn’t tell him you were with Jae.
“Uh… yeah?” Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. “How’d you know?”
“Taehyung told me.”
“Oh.” He can practically hear the wince. “He has such a big mouth.” You say drily.
That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory. It’s soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your – his – shirt riding up.
Your answer takes awhile.
“I was… getting help with estimates.”
“... Okay,” Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. “But I’m really good with estimates. I could’ve helped you.” It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before… why now?
“Well, he offered.”
Jungkook’s brows crease deeper. “That’s not…" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jae’s not even on the dean's list. How’d you know he’s teaching you the right stuff?”
Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.
“He’s not even on the dean’s list?” You sound intrigued.
Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. “He isn’t. Look, I’m not saying–” when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes you’re just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole.”
You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether you’re wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not.
You shake your head. “Not really. I believe you’re way smarter than him.”
“Then why come to him and not me?”
You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. “I just feel like you’re doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Monday– don’t deny it–” you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. “– and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck.
“Ah… okay. I understand.” he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system.
You smile at him. Playfully. “Sorry for asking help from someone who’s not on the dean’s list.” Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesn’t bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, “Sorry, sorry. That was just so funny. You’re so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?”
“Not really.” Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.
What he doesn’t expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest.
“You’re so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?” You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle.
Jungkook meets your gaze.
Sure, you’ve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months – but they never went to this length. And he’s not sure what the difference is, anyway – just that you’re much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesn’t deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even want you to move.
“Alright.” Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.
“I’ll sleep now, okay?” But you don’t wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.
Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didn’t want him touching you or something like that – but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well.
“The Jae thing really bothered you?” You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position you’ve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.
Jungkook hums. “Yes.”
“Sorry for not telling you myself.”
“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and there’s not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. He’s never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. “Are you not gonna ask why I was bothered?” He says after a beat.
“I was gonna. But I think I know.” You answer, and Jungkook doesn’t expect that one bit.
He stops his ministrations on your hair, and it’s obvious that you’re about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again.
When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question he’s been mulling about for the past two months.
“__, what are we?”
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