#i think next they will arrest me or maybe put me down for having too much fun with blender
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catboygirljoker · 1 year ago
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breaking news
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xigbar has died badly
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jensthwa · 6 months ago
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show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.
WORD COUNT: 11k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!
NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 28th 2024.
TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay
masterlist.
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When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 
It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 
Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 
The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 
The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 
You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 
It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 
When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 
Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 
A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 
The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worn out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 
The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 
The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 
His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 
There's no getting rid of me either, love.
We'll figure it out. 
Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 
Yeah, you'll figure it out.  
And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 
You are fucked. 
It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 
“Mingi is driving you, right?” 
“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 
“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 
Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 
“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 
“R-right.” 
He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 
Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 
“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 
“You made it, dear.” 
“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 
You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.
Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 
Maybe not the smartest option. 
If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—
Someone's texting you. 
> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 
Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 
So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 
The casual texting annoys you. 
Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 
Oh, maybe that's why. 
But it ticks you off either way. 
Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?
Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 
It doesn't make any sense. 
You hit send. 
> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 
Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.
> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 
Oh. 
Not casual texting. At. All. 
Or maybe it is? 
Ugh.
Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 
Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 
And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.
Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 
Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 
They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.
The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 
Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 
That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 
Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.
You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  
Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 
Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 
God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 
Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 
“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 
Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 
“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 
“And make sure to—” 
“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 
They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 
He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 
Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 
“I was just making sure that he—” 
“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 
“Alright. Love you, take care!” 
“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 
When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 
“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 
“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 
“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 
When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 
“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 
Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 
“You can help me with that.” 
“Can I now?” 
“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 
Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 
“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 
A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 
Nothing has changed. 
Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.
So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into a hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 
Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 
You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 
“You made it!” 
“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 
Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 
You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 
If Seonghwa catches the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 
“Mingi!” 
What the hell is she doing here? 
Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 
She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 
Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 
Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 
She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 
Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 
“Well fuck me, am I right?” 
“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on your shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 
If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 
“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 
“You can't possibly know that.” 
“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 
He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 
“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 
“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 
San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 
“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 
“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 
“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 
“We're just friends now!” 
“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 
Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 
Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 
Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 
You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 
Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 
He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 
Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 
You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 
“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 
“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 
Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 
“Who is sh—” 
“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 
Huh?! 
You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 
The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 
“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 
Great, that didn't work either. 
“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 
“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 
“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 
“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 
Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 
“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 
Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 
“Sure thing.” 
You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 
This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 
He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 
So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 
Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 
When you're tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 
“What the fuck, Mingi?” 
Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 
“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 
“People usually knock!” 
“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 
You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 
But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 
Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 
“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 
You let out a sigh. 
“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 
“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 
“Cool.” 
He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 
“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 
It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 
“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 
He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 
“What's so amusing?” 
At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.
“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 
He's such a guy sometimes. 
“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 
“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 
“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 
He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 
He keeps his mouth shut. 
“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 
“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 
“Mingi, don't say that!” 
“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 
“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  
“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 
“You don't even know her name, love.” 
“That's not the fucking point!” 
He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.
Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 
That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 
Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 
You hate it. 
You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 
Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 
And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 
When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 
“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 
You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 
Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 
“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 
“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 
“Did something happen or…?” 
What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 
“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 
“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 
“Ye—” 
“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 
Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 
Immature. Petty. Rude. 
You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 
You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 
As he should be. 
You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 
The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 
You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 
“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 
Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 
“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”
“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 
He's angry. Shit. 
You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 
When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 
The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 
You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 
But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 
“You shouldn't have bothered.” 
“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 
Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”
“Did I stutter or something?” 
“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 
“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 
The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 
“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 
That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 
The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 
Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 
“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 
Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 
“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 
Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?
“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 
You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 
What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  
“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 
“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 
“She didn't even say hi to me!” 
“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 
What? 
“W-what?” 
“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 
You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 
“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 
Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 
So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 
Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 
“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 
Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 
When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 
And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 
You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 
This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 
Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 
You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 
“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 
“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 
“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 
“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 
“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 
“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 
His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 
So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 
“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.
The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 
You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 
There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 
You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 
His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 
“This goddamn dress, love.” 
Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 
“Been thinking about it all day…” 
“It worked, by the way.” 
“Woo?” 
“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 
“And Jongho?” 
“Probably plotting against me right now.” 
He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 
Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 
“Worked on you, too.” 
He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 
“Oh?” 
A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 
“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 
This is it. 
Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 
“I love you, Mingi.” 
He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if it's too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 
“I love you too, Y/N.”
And his does too. 
You kiss him until it hurts. 
He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 
The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 
It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 
And then it doesn't. 
The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 
He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 
You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and lets his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 
Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 
“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 
When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 
He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 
Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 
“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 
“Fuck, Mingi…” 
“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 
“Y-yes.” 
Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 
Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 
He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.
Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 
“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 
“Mingi…” 
“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 
“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 
“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 
He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 
What a tease. 
So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 
Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 
You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 
But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 
He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 
“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 
And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 
He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 
Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 
“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 
You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.
He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 
“You don't have to, love.” 
“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 
He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 
That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 
Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 
Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 
Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 
He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.
“Just like that, love.” 
To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 
Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 
The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick from touching is your hand. 
You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.
The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 
You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 
There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 
“Condom. Now.” 
He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 
Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 
Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 
He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 
“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 
You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 
Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 
“Baby… Harder.” 
“Yeah?” 
Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 
“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 
In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 
“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 
The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 
It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 
“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 
Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 
He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 
There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 
Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 
“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 
“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 
Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 
He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 
“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 
Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 
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“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't see it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 
Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 
It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 
After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 
Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 
In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 
What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 
Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 
But everyone seems unaffected by it. 
“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 
“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 
She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 
“And no one told us?!” 
“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 
“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 
“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 
“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 
Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 
“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 
“I’m sure Mingi did—” 
“Wooyoung!” 
“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 
San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 
“Am not!” 
Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  
“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 
There's some story there you don't know. 
“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 
Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 
“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 
Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 
“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 
“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 
Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 
You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 
His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 
“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 
“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 
You smile “Well, she's right.” 
“Nuh-uh!” 
Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 
When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 
A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 
“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 
You're the happiest you've ever been.
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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itneverendshere · 8 months ago
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school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)
warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)
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you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.
what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?
the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.
up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.
the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.
ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.
outrageous, never done before.
for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.
wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.
not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“
“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”
“just soccer?”
you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”
"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"
you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.
“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."
you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”
pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.
“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.
“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."
you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.
your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.
“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"
“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“
you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”
“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”
you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”
your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."
you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"
pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”
your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”
rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.
“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”
“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”
you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.
pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”
you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”
pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”
your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.
"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"
he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”
“seriously?”
pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”
your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.
“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”
he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”
you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”
he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."
you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."
he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."
you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."
it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?
“the ball’s in your court.”
yeah it is.
truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.
at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.
so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.
but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.
you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.
you had pope for that.
which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.
a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.
taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.
the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.
you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.
there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.
“hey?”
“you look like shit, cameron.”
rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”
you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”
rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”
you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.
there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.
"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”
rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."
he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.
you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”
"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."
“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”
rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"
"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”
you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.
and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.
“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”
rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.
“why are you mad at me?”
you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.
"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"
he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”
rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
that’s it.
you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.
“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”
for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.
“and you want to fuck me?”
you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.
“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.
you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”
he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”
"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”
rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”
“yes or no.”
rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”
“okay. so win your next match and you will.”
he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”
“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”
"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”
you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."
rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."
“i figured.”
he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”
you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”
rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."
you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.
rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.
“just win the fucking match, cameron."
rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
"consider it done."
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kasagia · 5 months ago
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imgonnagetyouback
Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!ex-girlfiriend! reader Summary: After your rather stormy breakup, Benny decides he can't live without you. He'll get you back. At any cost. Even if he has to force you over his motorcycle and take you far out of town. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist P.S. I accept requests for Benny if you want to read sth specific with our boy 😊
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Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you Bygones will be bygone eras Fading into gray We broke all the pieces, but still want to play the game I told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same Pick your poison, babe I'm poison either way... Whether I'm gonna be your wife or Gonna smash up your bike I haven't decided yet But I'm gonna get you back - "imgonnagetyouback" Taylor Swift
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“What the hell is he doing here?” You ask angrily, looking out your office window as you see your ex’s Harley parked next to your car.
"Maybe he forgot something from you. Did you give him all his stuff back?" Your friend asks, putting the papers into a folder.
"No. I gathered all four of his shirts and two pairs of pants and made myself a campfire behind the house." You huff angrily, closing the blinds so you wouldn't have to watch the blue-eyed Vandal leaning against your car.
"So what does he want? From what you've told me, your relationship ended in a hell of a bad way, and he was a world-class asshole." You tremble at the mere memory of your breakup with Benny.
You and he met at one of the Vandals' bar. You happened to go there for a drink with your girls; he noticed you and started talking with you. He was flirting with you the whole night and tried to take you with him for a ride on his bike. The first time you turned him down. Then he tracked down where you lived and showed up at your door, offering a ride to your work.
You should have seen a red flag then. But you were too stupid and infatuated by him enough to think it was romantic.
As time went on, he took you to Vandals meetings more and more often. And it was fun. Until you had to bail him out of arrest, pick him up from the hospital, and wait forever for him at home, wondering if he'd be sleeping next to you in bed or at the police station.
And one day, when he ended up in the hospital after some guys beat him up for wearing Vandal's colours, you broke. You begged him to stop while he was still alive and well (which was doubtful considering the doctors were still debating whether to cut off his foot); you literally knelt by his bed and cried like a baby while all he cared about was whether he could keep riding.
But that wasn't the worst. The worst was that every time you argued, he threatened to leave, to disappear, that it would be best for you if he left you alone. And at first you begged him, terrified, to stay, but over time you started to react to those words... more aggressively.
Then you decided you were fed up with living with the wandering cat he was and broke up with him. Roughly. Stormily. Your neighbours heard more than one of your arguments, and the whole street saw you throwing his stuff out the window and finally throwing rocks at him as he rode away on his beloved Harley. On second thought, maybe you were both two big damn red carpets.
"I don't want to know. Will you take me home? The last thing I want today is to meet that son of a bitch."
You sigh, dragging the papers to your desk. You grab your black blazer and throw it on over your white shirt. You adjust your black pencil skirt and grab your purse to follow your friend.
You took the job as a secretary right after breaking up with Benny. You quit your old job not wanting him to know where you worked, but apparently Vandal had his ways. You wonder if choosing another job wasn't a slap in the face for Benny. Choosing such a boring and ordinary job would piss him off even more and prove that you really aren't made for each other.
Just like Benny, you could be hellishly mean.
"What the hell?" Your friend asks as you exit out the back and her car isn't in the parking lot. But there is another Vandal with his motorcycle.
"Johnny." You greet him and walk over to him, crossing your arms. Your friend is hot on your heels. "What are you doing here?"
"Kiddo said you two have a problem in your relationship."
"We don't have any relationship, so there is no problem between us. But apparently, my friend lost her car. Can you help her?" You ask him, furious with Benny for not acknowledging your breakup.
"Y/N... you know that I don't like to get involved in the shit that's not mine, but this kid has been going crazy for a month now. He's been doing even worse shitty things than before, and I can't tell you how many times we've picked him up from jail in the past few fucking weeks. If you ever cared about him, talk to him. He's becoming wildly unpredictable. Even for me."
You bite your lip at his words. You know perfectly well what Benny is like, or rather what he was like before he met you. Thanks to you, he stopped riding so fast and carefree, ended up in the hospital much less often, and even obeyed the speed limit when you were with him on his bike.
You can only imagine what he's been up to in your absence and to what extent, since Johnny took an interest and came to you to talk about it.
"Don't manipulate me, Johnny. You know damn well he deserved it. Now you know what I had to deal with throughout this whole fucking relationship." You reply dryly, not wanting to fall for the Vandals' sweet words again.
You loved them like family, but sometimes you have to cut yourself off from them to save your sanity. And you desperately needed some time to yourself and a break from all of Benny's antics.
"Well... I know Benny isn't easy, but he really is a good kid. Carrot and stick. That's what he needs. And for the sake of your lady-buddy's car and your friendship... maybe you should go and have a few words with him."
"Screw you." You growl, rolling your eyes, and walk away from them. "What are you waiting for?! Take her to this fucking car!" You shout, walking back to the main building to exit through the main entrance.
Johnny puts your friend on his bike, and all you can do is give her an apologetic look as he takes her to where they moved her car. You don't even want to know how they did it.
You sigh as you walk through the office and stand in front of the main exit doors. You glance at your watch and walk out of the building with your heart in your mouth.
You walk down the sidewalk with the other people from work who have just left. Benny's blue irises land on you immediately. He straightens up, stopping leaning against your car and throwing away a cigarette he was smoking. He looks at you expectantly. You nod at him and pretend to walk in his direction.
You cross the street on the crosswalk, but instead of turning right towards the parking lot, you run as hard as you can to the left towards the bus stop.
"Y/N!" Benny shouts after you, and a moment later, you hear the thud of his combat boots against the pavement as he runs after you.
The bus pulls up to the stop, and you run inside. Luckily, the driver closes the doors before Benny can get to them. He bangs on the glass, shouting your name and some curse words, but you can't hear him clearly as the bus starts moving.
You breathe a sigh of relief and wipe your sweaty forehead. This time you did it. You just hoped your friend would get her car back before Benny went to Johnny and complained to him that you ran away.
But for now, you're happy that you managed to outsmart your ex.
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The next morning you cautiously peer out from behind your front door, searching for a head of blonde hair. Even though you couldn't see any Vandal's motorcycle through the window, you wanted to be sure that none would suddenly pop out from nowhere.
You sigh with relief, not seeing anything suspicious.
You open the door wider, but something is blocking you. On your way out, you notice a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers. You pick it up and examine it carefully, but you don't see any note or card. But you do see a necklace.
The flowers are tied with a fucking necklace. The necklace Benny gave you at the beginning of your relationship with his initials carved into the back of the silver heart. (One of the guys worked at a jeweler's and did it for him for practically free through a connection or something.) The necklace you threw in his face when you broke up with him.
Furious, you want to throw the flowers in the trash. Instead, you decide to put the necklace in your pocket and walk to work. On the way, you pass a school and hand the bouquet to the first girl you see. At least she was happy because of those damn flowers.
As you continue your walk, you see a motorcyclist in the distance. You tense up and quicken your pace, praying that it's not a Vandal, but apparently you're out of luck today.
"Y/N?! How long have we not seen each other?!" Danny screams as he rides to you. You sigh as his bike blocks the entire sidewalk and force a smile.
"Probably ages ago. How you doing?"
"Great. Can I give you a ride somewhere? Where's Benny? Shouldn't he be the one hauling your ass to work?" He asks, already taking out a helmet for you. You reluctantly accept it and climb behind him on the bike.
"We broke up." You inform him, knowing full well that he's been away from the Vandals lately due to studies and his photography stuff.
"Oh shit. He must be devastated then." He comments and starts the engine. You hold on to him as he drives you to the address you gave him.
The drive takes a few minutes. Luckily, your car is still parked outside the building, and you don't see any parked bikes.
"Thanks. Danny? Can you give this to Benny? You probably will see him sooner than me." You say and hand him the necklace. He nods and drives away, leaving you alone.
You approach your car and curse, seeing the lock placed on the wheel. Not a police lock. A lock that the Vandals often put on and took off in exchange for small money. A small tag was attached to it. It had the date and time written on it—probably their next meeting that they wanted you to join in exchange for taking the damn thing off your car.
"Bad day?"
You flinch and turn around, surprised by someone's presence. You sigh with relief when you see only Mike—an accountant from the company you worked for.
"Bad week. Plus, it looks like I'm grounded." You say and kick your leg against the wheel of your car.
"Yeah, I recognise that. My friend had to pay them like $100 to get that damn thing off. He was rushing to some meeting and couldn't wait for the police and similar stuff. I can get someone to take it off for you."
"I'm afraid I don't have enough money." You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for a weekend with the Vandals. In Benny's company. Talking to him. You already feel sick.
"For free. Friend of mine owns me a little favour."
"Seriously?" You ask, shocked. He nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hands and nods, giving you an uncertain smile.
"Yeah, no problem. And before he will do it... do you mind if we both go to lunch? I mean... you don't have to if you don't want to..."
"You know... I would actually like that." You interrupt him with a smirk, seeing him stuttering, unable to finish his sentence as he blushes.
"Really?" You almost giggle at his incredulous question and the gleam of happiness in his eyes. You nod with a huge, genuine smile, practically forgetting why you agreed to this date in the first place. "So... in four hours at the exit?"
"I will be waiting." With a smile, you leave him behind and enter the office. Maybe this day wasn't such a tragedy after all...
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Benny was drinking beer with Johnny and Danny at a table in their favourite bar. The Vandals were circling him like vultures, just waiting for a little sensation and gossiping about his breakup with you.
"It must be hard for you, man. We all saw how much you loved her. Like a Catholic loves a goddamn God."
"Too bad she can't see it." Benny mumbles, lighting a cigarette. His one hand plays with the necklace he left on your doorstep this morning, which you gave to Denny. Benny gave you his fucking heart, and you still rejected it. He had to try harder. He had to talk to you first.
"Hey Benny-boy? How are you? Are you still getting over your breakup with your girlfriend? Do you love her that much? Come on, come with us. We'll race to the brothel, and you'll forget about this bitch in a second." Some Vandal walks up to him and pats him on the back.
"Benny no..." Johnny is interrupted by the crash of Vandal's jaw as Benny's fist hits him.
A second later, a beer bottle shatters over the head of a bleeding man on the floor, and Johnny and Danny try to pull him away from the guy. The entire club boos and cheers for the fight, but the guys quickly drag Benny outside.
"What the hell?! You can love her, but damn, don't be such a girl and react at each shitty comment!" Johnny yells at him and hits him in the chest with his hands. Benny huffs indignantly and puts his hands in his pockets to stop himself from hitting him.
"I hate her!" He growls furiously and plays with the necklace in his pants' pocket.
"And love her just the same, huh?" Danny asks and gives Benny a cigarette.
Benny doesn't answer. He smokes furiously, trying to clear his head, but all he can think about is you. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your body, the shudder of your breath beneath him, the way you clenched your hands around his shirt across his stomach when you rode with him on his bike, the way you pressed yourself against him and snuggled up to him every chance you got... fuck, he missed you. More than he previously thought he would be.
"Benny?! I saw your girl with some man in a suit! At that one of those Italian restaurants on the corner of Main Street. You know, the shitty one for rich people. You should do something about this." One of the bikers rides up and informs him, then rides away before Benny can say anything.
"Kid, don't…" Johnny tries to stop him, but Benny is already on his motorcycle. He starts it and rides as fast as he can, ignoring the shouts behind him.
All Benny could think about was how he was going to beat up the guy who dared to touch you. You were his girlfriend. You were one of the Vandals. You might have been on a break, but that didn't give any man the right to hit on you. Not when you had Benny and Benny had you.
It was simple logic. Nobody messes with the Vandals and their girls.
Benny sped through the city, not stopping at red lights. It wasn't until he was at a restaurant that he stopped his Harley.
He didn't turn off the engine, though. He was staring intently through the restaurant windows and checking out each customer until his eyes landed on you and some shit in a suit who had the nerve to get your attention.
Benny tugged on the handle, causing his bike's engine to roar furiously—like a guard dog giving a warning before it attacks. He increased the engine's roar until your eyes met his.
A cold shiver ran through him as you threw him one of your angry looks, and he felt hurt when you ignored him and continued to talk with the man sitting in front of you and gave him one of your most wonderful smiles. Fuck it. The guy wouldn't be able to walk when Benny got to him.
Benny reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pack of Marlboro, and lights his cigarette. He holds it to his mouth with one hand while the other continues to crank the handle of the engine, so that the roar of the engine drowns out any conversation you might have had with the man in front of you.
He smirks as you and the guy in front of you stare in his direction. He holds a cigarette between his plush lips and waves at you, causing an irritated frown to form on your forehead.
Benny can't help but feel a strange bile rising in his throat as he looks at the two of you. You were on a date with a guy who was clearly the opposite of Benny. He wonders if this is what you really want—a boring guy with a boring job and a tonne of money who could build you a house with a fucking white picket fence and drive you to work in his Cooper car and the kids to preschool. It makes him sick to think that you could be anyone else, that you could have anyone else's children, that you could be married to some guy in a suit and live the life of a fucking decent 1950s shitty family.
Benny knew perfectly well that he couldn't give you what this guy could provide you. He couldn't even afford a date at a restaurant like that.
However, it didn't change the fact that he loved you so damn much.
"Hey! Biker dude, leave Y/N alone!" A guy in a suit comes out of the restaurant and yells at him. Benny calmly finishes his cigarette and throws it on the ground, staring silently at the man in front of him. "Did you hear me, degenerate? Get out of here!" The guy pushes him, hitting his chest. For Benny, that's enough.
He lands the first punch with his right fist, landing perfectly on his opponent's cheek. The next punch sends blood pouring from the man's nose onto his snow-white shirt. But for Benny, it's not enough.
He throws the guy to the ground, and the two begin to fight in earnest. Benny, however, has a much greater advantage and motivation as he takes out all his anger on the guy below him. He only snaps out of this strange trance when someone's hands pull him away from the bleeding man below him.
"What the fuck was that, Benny?! You almost killed him!" You yell at him angrily, pulling your hands away from him as quickly as you can. Benny says nothing, staring at you silently as he processes what he just did. Several other motorcycles pull up in front of the restaurant, with Johnny in the lead.
"Let's go, kid! Before the police arrive."
Benny stares at you, not quite wanting to leave before he explains why he beat up your date. But he stops himself the moment he sees the fear and disgust in your eyes. It hurts Benny more than any punch he could have taken. He clenches his jaw and walks to his bike. He starts the engine and gives you one last long look, then lowers his head in shame as he joins the other Vandals.
Your hair flutters in the wind as you watch the Vandals drive away. You run over to Mike and wait with him until the ambulance arrives. But you don't follow him to the hospital. You have more important things to take care of in the city.
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With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You wait patiently outside, considering the pros and cons, but before you can chicken out and leave, Betty opens the door for you.
"Y/N? This is quite a surprise."
"Can I come in? I need to talk to you." The woman makes room for you and lets you in. You greet her and Johnny's daughters, who are watching a cartoon on TV, and you go with her to the kitchen, where you can talk in peace. "It's about Benny."
"I expected it. You know, we were all very surprised when you broke up. We were convinced that a week longer and the boy would start looking for an engagement ring for you."
"Benny and marriage? Not in this lifetime, I guess." You scoff and sit down at the small kitchen island with a smile, thanking her for the coffee she made you. "He fucking almost beat my date to death today. He's acting crazy. Johnny tells me he's been like this since I broke up with him, but we both know he was like this long before we even met. What the hell am I supposed to do, Betty? Get out of town? Out of America? Vandals have expanded all over the states, and most of them aren't the same old club they used to be."
"I know. Believe me, I know best." Silence falls between you after her words. You nod, understanding perfectly that she of you had the most right to worry. You sigh, running your hand through your hair. "Y/N... I'll give you some advice. If you don't care about him that much... if you think you can forget and move on, then save yourself. Run away wherever you want, as far away from him as possible, and forget. But if you can't... then stay and talk some sense into him before it's too late to save him."
"Save him? You know perfectly well he won't abandon the Vandals."
"Like you said, they're not the same Vandals they used to be. They've changed. Johnny sees it. Benny sees it. And they both still fool themselves, but when some shit happens, it finally gets to them. And believe me, Benny loves his bike and freedom, but the Vandals aren't his family anymore. You are." You fall silent at her words, processing everything she said. You nod and sigh, taking a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket. "We smoke outside." She admonishes you. You laugh quietly and raise your hands in surrender.
"All right. Thanks for everything, Betty." You sigh as you leave the house. You light a cigarette and walk across town to the Vandals' bar. You have to finish everything you had to finish with Benny. You couldn't just leave town without a word. There's no telling what the Vandal would do if you suddenly disappeared.
You throw your cigarette into the bin and take a few calming breaths as you approach the biker's bar. Their engines are already roaring, and some of them, probably the young and new ones, eye you warily as you enter.
You look around the bar and frown, unable to find Benny. You walk further in, pushing through the sea of people and sitting at the head table where Johnny sits with his most important men.
"Hello there. Where is Benny?" You ask them, taking the beer from Johnny. The man raises an eyebrow at you and watches as you take a sip.
"I thought you didn't want to talk to him?"
"I have to. I'm leaving town soon. I'd rather tell that to that ticking bomb." Johnny nods, fully realising what you mean. You see Cockroach get up from the table and go to the phone. You try to listen in on the conversation, but Johnny effectively talks you over and drowns out any conversation the man was having at the bar.
"When are you coming back?" He asks, but you don't answer. You take a sip of beer and tap your finger on the neck of the bottle. "I see. The kid won't be happy, you know that?"
"We are no longer together." You snap back, trying your best to maintain your relatively indifferent attitude. "Besides, after the shit he did today, he only proved that I can't stay here anymore."
"He went for a ride. He'll probably be at the lake. Or on the streets breaking a few traffic laws. You know him."
"Too well." You nod and stand up from the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cockroach exit the bar and get on his bike. You frown and shake your head. They're not your problem anymore. "Tell him I'm looking for him. When you will see him."
"Sure." He agrees and nods. You nod back and turn to leave the bar. You scan the place one last time, knowing full well that you'll probably never set foot in it again.
Your heart clenches as you remember all the times you spent here. Both the good and the bad. Shortly after you broke up with Benny, you cursed this building. You'd rather see it burn down, along with all the Vandals that reminded you of what you'd lost.
You try to hold back the tears that are welling up in your eyes as you involuntarily recall your first meeting with Benny. The pool table is still in the same spot. How easy it would have been for you not to have looked that damned way and not fallen for the charm of those blue irises and the exposed muscles of his arms. How much disappointment and heartbreak you would have avoided if you had never entered that bar. And as much as you despised and hated that place, you loved it and the people in it for a long time and fiercely. And one of them in particular.
But how much more tragedy and sadness could you endure? How long could you live in fear and uncertainty in a relationship that was supposed to bring you only happiness and those good thrills?
Benny wanted to be free. So you will give him that freedom.
"Y/N!" Johnny calls after you before you leave. You sigh and turn to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Take care of yourself."
"You too." You nod at him and leave the bar.
You leave everything behind. And you feel like a piece of you is dying in the flames of time and the cry of your tormented heart..
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Surprisingly, it doesn't take you long to pack. Nor does it take you long to get off work. Two days later, you're standing in the hallway of your house, ready to hand over the keys to your cousin, who's supposed to be selling it.
You stare at the picture Danny took of you and Benny when you were sitting at one of the biker picnics. Benny and you were leaning against his bike. He had his arm over your shoulder and was staring at you with loving puppy eyes while you smiled at the camera.
You sigh, putting the photo into your wallet and impatiently waiting for your cousin.
Just then, there's a knock on your door. You sigh and open it. You freeze, completely shocked, when you see Benny there.
"I didn't hear your bike."
"I parked down the street. So you don't get scared and run away." He says, still leaning against your door frame.
"I'm not scared of you." You huff indignantly, looking at the scratches on his face. You frown, not remembering him getting any injuries from Mike.
"I had an accident."
"Of course you had." You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. You see his jaw quiver slightly, but he just continues to stare at you with those stupid blue eyes of his, like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm leaving." You inform him, swallowing hard and waiting for his reaction. He drops his gaze to your hands and nods.
"I can see that." He says, nodding at the large travel backpack behind you.
"I won't come back." You inform him, carefully observing his reaction to it. Of course, he doesn't show anything. His face is stony as he looks at you, and his facial muscles don't even move as he doesn't reveal a single emotion to you.
"You won't come back." He repeats, not moving an inch from his spot by your door. You clench your teeth in irritation, to which he just smiles. And oh, that damn smile of his...
"That's it. You can go. You always said you'd be the one to leave. Too bad I had to be the one with the balls to do it." You say angrily, ready for him to turn around and walk to his bike, but all he does is continue to stare at you. You shake your head and push past him when you see your cousin.
You ignore Benny as you sort out the details with your cousin. You grab your backpack and walk him back to his car. You say goodbye to him and watch the car drive away. As you turn to go to the bus stop, you bump into Benny's chest.
"Sorry. I didn't see you." You say, quickly pulling away from him and trying to suppress your blush after your hands were briefly on his chest. The damn thing still had some well-trained muscles.
"Give you a lift?" He asks you seemingly innocently and puts his hands in his pockets. His gaze burns you, making your blush stay on your cheeks a little longer.
"Where are you going?" You ask as you both walk in the same direction. You don't feel like going with him, but you're not going to tell him that yet. You know he'll think of anything to make you get on that fucking bike with him.
"Florida." At those words, you freeze and stand still. You swallow and look at him for a long moment as you remember how you once begged him to go to his cousin in Florida and start a new life there. Then he chose his bike. And you chose yourself.
"To your cousin?" You ask carefully, resuming your walk.
"He hired me at his car workshop." Benny nods, walking glued to your side with his hands clasped behind him.
You feel strangely at ease talking to him. You're out of the habit of it. Of having him so close to you, of feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, of his intoxicating scent, of having his hypnotising irises focused on you and of listening to that raspy voice of his.
You missed him.
"You will have a job?" You ask, shocked. You can't imagine a free spirit like Benny finding a permanent job with set hours. "Well... that's good for you. I guess." You comment as you both walk. Suddenly he steps in front of you and stops. You sigh when you see his bike parked exactly two steps away from you. Fuck, you let that son of a bitch lead you to his bike.
"Are you getting in?" He asks, nodding at his bike. And as much as you want to say yes, you know it'll be bad for both you and him.
You shouldn't be together. Or at least you didn't think so. Even though you loved him so damn much.
"I will buy a train ticket." You politely decline his offer. You expect him to nod silently, get on your bike, and ride off into the sunset forever, but he still stands firmly in front of you, blocking your path.
"Where to?" He asks and looks at you suspiciously, as if he knew perfectly well that you didn't know where you were going yet. You only knew that it was definitely far from Benny.
"You don't need to know." You growl stubbornly, trying to get past him and finally move on.
But Benny won't let you. Before you can register any movement, he moves quickly and takes your hands. He wraps them tightly around his waist, and suddenly you hear a metallic click and something cold and heavy being placed on your forearms. Handcuffs. Bloody handcuffs.
"Benny!!" You growl at him angrily and struggle as he walks towards his bike. "Where the hell did you get handcuffs from?"
"Cockroach." He answers shortly and sits down, making you have to follow his lead. He fucking kidnaps you.
"Benny... let me go!" You scream, trying to punch him in the stomach, but the handcuffs are so short and far enough away from your wrists that all you can do is hold on tight as he prepares to ride.
"Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you." He tells you calmly, and you stare at him in disbelief. What the fuck?
"Don't joke! Benny!" Either he ignores your screams (which is most likely) or he doesn't hear them because at that very moment he starts the engine of his Harley.
So all you can do is sit behind him, holding on tight as he drives who knows where. Amazingly, he stops at red lights and doesn't go over the speed limit. It's only when he gets to the highway that he drives a little faster than the speed limit, but not enough to be considered dangerous driving.
You rest your cheek against his back in defeat as you realise there is absolutely no way out of this. Not if you want to stay alive. You can feel him relax a little as he rides forward, and you are not trying to fight with him. You sigh, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to rest behind him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of freedom as you whizzed through the air on his bike.
Fuck, you missed it.
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The only break you get is a stop at a motel when the fuel runs out and the cold night starts to set in. Benny rents you a room (which is surprising because you were always the one paying) at the motel and leaves you there while he goes to fill up his Harley.
You think about escaping, but:
1. Benny took away the keys and locked you up there.
2. He made sure to rent a room on the highest floor of this damn building.
3. You were too tired and hungry after the ride to come up with some plan.
That's why you lay on the bed and wait for him to come back. Hopefully with food. It would be nice to eat something before you will kill him.
As if on cue, the keys turn in the door, and Benny steps inside. In his hand he has a large paper bag, which he places on the bed opposite you in an apologetic gesture of sacrifice for his sins. He can go to hell. Him and his damn puppy eyes.
"What is it?"
"Burgers. Took it for you. Your favourite." He says and makes sure he's locked the door. He puts the key in the keyhole and goes to the window.
He looks at his bike and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights one and looks outside, not sparing you a single glance.
"Where's your jacket?" You ask, seeing as he's not wearing his Vandals' colours. It was weird seeing him in just a T-shirt.
"On a bike in the trunk. I don't know if they'd let me here wearing that."
"You never took it off." You say shocked and raise your eyebrows at him. "You will be cold without it." You notice and take the food out of the bag. You don't eat yet, wondering if you should leave him some, if he even ate anything before he came here.
"I was cold without you." He answers quickly without even thinking much about what he's saying. You see his cheeks redden slightly as he realises he said it out loud. "Eat." He clears his throat and takes a drag on his cigarette. You sigh and start eating. You hum, savouring the delicious food, and you swear you hear him chuckle quietly from his spot by the window. Big bastard.
"Where we going?" You ask him before biting into your burger. You frown as grease leaks onto your fingers. You lick them, unconsciously teasing Benny as he... imagines what your lips wrapped around just as perfectly as they now were wrapped around your fingers. He clears his throat, seeing that you’ve caught him staring at you.
"Florida. I want to show you something." You eat in silence, wondering what he wants to show you that makes him literally chain you to himself and drag you out of town.
"And then?" You can't stand it anymore and finally ask, curious about his future plans and how long he actually wants to keep you with him.
"And then you will decide."
"Decide what? Do I want the fur handcuffs or the regular metal ones?" You snap at him, irritated.
Your sharp mockery makes him throw his cigarette out the window, and his gaze lingers there, as if he were ashamed of what he had done. On the other hand, you didn't give him much of an exit or opportunity to talk normally. You wanted to leave—just like he had promised so many times that he would do. So why did he stubbornly want to keep you if he had never cared?
Benny wasn't one for words. He was sparing with his thoughts and emotions. And for a while, his actions spoke loud enough of his devotion to you. For a while. Then your honeymoon phase wore off, and you were annoyed that he never verbally confirmed to you what his eyes had told you so many times as he held you close by the fire at night at one of the Vandals meetings.
On this particular night, some famous actress that the guys were crazy about was coming to town. Half of them got on their bikes halfway through the party and wanted Benny to join them in hunting her down and taking a picture with her. They even bribed Danny to go with them and take their stupid pictures.
"Come on, Benny. You're not coming with us? I remember you were the one who hung her poster in the club so you could get a good view of her from the pool table." One of the guys was convincing Benny, who was currently lying on the grass and resting his head on your lap, practically forcing you to comb your hands through his blonde locks.
"I have a much better view here!" He shouts at them, not even turning his head in their direction. His blue eyes never leave your face. You blush a little, ducking your head and closing your eyes as you try to ignore the whistles and teasing from the boys at his response.
A moment later, Benny props himself up on his elbows and steals the most delightful, mind-numbing kiss. You cup his cheek in your hand and let yourself sink into the feeling of his soft lips against yours, letting out a quiet sigh when he tangles his hand in your hair and presses you against the trunk of the tree behind you. You ignore the cheering Vandals put on and completely immerse yourself in your little bubble with Benny.
Everyone had their poison. For Benny, it was cigarettes and his Harley. For you, it was him. And back then it didn't bother you one bit.
"I... if you want to go you can. I won't stop you." Benny mumbles under his breath, pulling you from your thoughts. You shake your head, snorting, and set the bag of food on the nightstand next to your bed.
"Thank you so much that you provide me with my basic human rights!" You growl at him angrily, reminding him about those stupid handcuffs.
"You didn't even want to give me a chance to explain myself to you. And you know perfectly well that I never ask for anything or expect anything in return. I... I didn't see any other way to get to you. And I'm not going to apologise for that."
You roll your eyes at him, irritated. But you can't say you don't see the reasoning behind his actions. But the prospect of being dragged around by him deeply offends your innate feminism.
Seeing that you have nothing to add to the matter, he closes the window. He walks over to you and grabs the blanket off the bed. You frown as he sits down in the armchair, clearly intending to sleep there. And you don't like the fact that even though you had him in the same room, you won't be able to have his arms wrapped around you. Especially since it's so damn cold in this motel.
"Come here. You will get sick by sitting near this window. It is cold outside, and they don't even heat the room." You grumble and make room for him on the bed, hoping that you don't have to tell him the real reason you want him next to you to get him in the same bed with you.
"I will be fine." He speaks carelessly and reaches into his pocket for another cigarette.
"Benjamin Cross." You growl at him, which finally gets his full attention. "Get your fucking ass here." Benny rolls his eyes but obediently stands up. He takes off his shoes and lies down next to you in bed.
He covers you with an extra blanket and leaves an absurd amount of space between you that you honestly hate. But you won't make the first move and throw yourself into his arms. Not after he kidnapped you. But... could it really be considered kidnapping if you partly wanted it and you didn't really have anywhere else to be?
You sigh, tossing and turning in your bed as you try to find a slightly comfortable sleeping position. But it's impossible to fall asleep with Benny so close to you when you are not even able to touch him. Especially when his warmth and scent reach you, assaulting you and every ounce of restraint and self-control you had.
"What's the matter with you?" Benny asks as you toss and turn in frustration once again.
"Nothing."
Benny knows that tone. All too well. So he hesitantly moves closer to you and experimentally places a hand on your waist. When you don't push away from him, he gently pulls you toward him and tightens his hold, pressing his chest against your back. You sigh and press your lips to his forearm, rubbing your nose against the tattooed skin.
Benny doesn't comment on that. That's something you like about him. That even when you do completely absurd things, he doesn't comment on it, doesn't deny it, just stands by you in silence. Just like now.
You take his hand in yours and squeeze it so hard that his rings dig into it. But you don't care. It's nice to finally have him this close.
Benny rests his chin on your shoulder and runs his nose against your temple. His beard gently tickles you, but you do nothing about it. It's been a long time since you've had this feeling of him close to you. You turn in his arms and snuggle into him.
Benny gently strokes your back with his hand, holding you close to him without a word as you revel in his scent. For a moment you forget why you should be mad at him and stay as far away from him as possible. So when his lips fall to your forehead and he presses a long kiss there, you grab his chin and steal the kiss from him.
His full, plump lips feel wonderful against yours and caress you nicely. You moan when you can finally taste his lips on yours again, and you remember how much you've missed this feeling. His hand roams over you, and you let him touch you wherever he wants. Benny, on the other hand, is confused. One moment you're yelling at him and you're angry, and the next you want him close to you and you kiss him like there's no tomorrow. It's a nice change. But Benny is afraid of how long it will last. Of how much longer will you want him? And will you want to leave again?
For now, he had you back in his arms. And he wanted to savour that feeling. And he will give you a goddamn reason to stay.
He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth again, as if learning you all over again, before wrapping his tongue around yours. You sigh as his hand slides teasingly from your cheek, down your neck, over the valley of your breasts, and to the hem of your jeans.
"Benny..." You sigh as his cold fingers touch the skin of your stomach after he unbuttons your jeans TOO slowly.
"Do you want me to stop?" Benny almost chuckles at how fast and furious your head is shaking. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip bitten in a desperate attempt to keep from making any sound as he gently brushes his fingers over your folds. The motel walls were thin after all. "Open your eyes for me, my little rascal, and say the words. After this, there will be no turning back."
You don't even think about turning back. You don't think about leaving him. You only think about how wonderful it is to have him by your side again, how wonderful his hands feel on you, and how much you want to kiss his stupid mouth until you both have enough breath. And that's exactly what you do.
With that form of agreement from you, his fingers gently delve into your folds, exploring previously familiar territory and teasing you unintentionally as he tries to appreciate every little second he has with you.
Sex with Benny was like that. Unique, intense, a long marathon. Because, as he said, you never know when it's the last time. Although you always prayed that it would never be the last time and that he and you will both live to experience another of your hot sessions.
For now, God listened to a sinner like you...
You almost scream as he digs his long fingers into you up to his knuckles. His rings rub against the entrance of your cunt, the even colder than his fingers metal is making you shiver. Benny kisses and nibbles your neck, leaving a trail of hickies from your lips to your collarbone.
His fingers slide in and out, pushing against that sweet spot inside you that makes you scream his name. His rings push through and enter your vagina, and you can see them glistening with your arousal. And it's fucking hot. As hot as Benny's hard manhood pressing against your thigh.
You dig your nails into his neck and moan into his ear as his thumbs is pressing your swollen clit, working with all his might to bring you to the edge of your orgasm.
You bite your lip, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure so everyone in the motel doesn't hear you, but Benny won't have any of that. He kisses you hungrily and pulls his hand away from you completely. You gasp, lifting your hips and seeking his hand, but he doesn't resume his ministrations until a soft moan escapes your kiss-swollen lips.
"Such a good little desprate girl for me. You take my fingers so damn well now, wrapping your tight unused walls around them, and before when you were scandalously empty, you were a nasty little brat. I shouldn't reward you for running away from me, you know, my sweetest?" He mumbles in your ear with his hoarse voice, still refusing you the touch of his sinfully long fingers.
The tears in your eyes fall freely onto the pillow as you try to gather the last remnants of logical thought to somehow prove yourself to him, because you know you won't come if you just grind against him desperately in the hopes that he'll finally give you more.
"Please Benny… I… oh… I won't leave… I won't leave.."
You tangle your hand in his hair and tug on it, to which he lets out a soft growl from his plump lips. In punishment, he gently nips your collarbone, adding another hickey to the collection, as he thankfully pushes his fingers deep into your velvety wet and eager walls again and tries to bring you immense pleasure.
And it doesn't take him very long. A few thrusts of his fingers, kisses scattered across your neck, collarbone, and cleavage, and you're falling apart beneath him. Your brain is a useless mush as you come from the mere ministrations of his fingers and the dirty words he whispers in your ear. You're drunk on Benny, on the feel of his fingers inside you, his weight on you, and the burning marks his lips leave on your skin.
You lick your lips in anticipation for him to strip down so you can get to the main part, but he just flops onto his side next to you, ignoring the obvious hard soreness in his pants, and wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you against his chest.
"I missed it." He whispers, kissing your knuckles. You feel his grip on your hand tighten, but he doesn’t move to taste you on his fingers. He simply places your joined hands on his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.
You know this is the closest you'll get to an admission of guilt and an apology from him. So you accept it and gently snuggle into him.
"Good night, Benny." You whisper into his neck. He shivers.
Goosebumps appear on the skin of his neck, but he doesn't move. You just lie there, cuddled up to each other, and he presses a long kiss to the top of your head. You feel fulfilled, satisfied, happy,
He lies under you politely, ignoring his discomfort, and you know that this is some kind of sick punishment for himself. Yet you do nothing to stop it. He has to realise that he can't just take you on his bike and take you to hell knows where. He needs to realise that he can't be such a free spirit anymore if he really wants you. That he can't keep doing the shit he did with the Vandals.
Even if you're happy with how things turned out after he dargged you out of the town.
And when the next day he takes you to Florida and shows you the old family home that he inherited from his deceased father and says that he would love to burn this place down in the past, but now he wants to keep it and renovate it for you if you agree to stay with him as his wife, you know you can't stay mad at him forever. Especially not after he slides one of his rings off his finger and places it securely on yours in a silent promise and understanding between you.
You whether gonna be his wife or gonna smash up his bike, (you haven't decided yet) but in the end you gonna finally make him yours and only yours.
After all, he didn't get you back just for you to leave him again. You will stay with each other until the very end. Even if it would destroy you.
602 notes · View notes
grlsinterrupted · 4 months ago
Note
hi can you do dally with Curtis sister reader (in between soda and pony's age) and their relationship is a secret because her brothers would lose their minds but Dal only has good intentions and is completely enamored by her. He sneaks into her room at night and the next morning when Darry goes to wake her up he flips out seeing Dallas Winston in his baby sister's bed and that causes Soda and pony to come in and freak out too
i’ll keep you my dirty little secret ✮⋆˙
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secret relationship with dally | dallas winston x curtis ! reader ˚ 𖦹⋆。˚
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dallas winston, a name notorious even within his own gang. though your brothers were close friends with him, they never failed to remind you to stay cautious around him— god knows what he’d do to a girl like you. dallas has always been dubbed ‘the mean one’, ‘the dangerous one’, ‘the one that had nothing ahead of him.’ in the words of your younger brother, pony, ‘he had been arrested, he got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, rolled drunks, jumped small kids— he did everything.’
despite the number of people that warned you about dallas, there was something so irresistible about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his subtle, yet flirtatious comments, were enough to turn you into a tomato-red mess. over the course of a few months, the two of you gradually spent more and more time together. from late night drives around tulsa to watching the sunrise— you name it, you and dallas have done it. if there’s one thing you’ve learned about him during your secret little dates, it’s that things are not always as they seem. dally isn’t as ‘rough’ as you thought he was, and it would be a lot harder explaining your relationship to your brothers than you thought it’d be.
the clouds outside your window are enveloping the night sky, twinkling stars peeking through the moonlight. despite how loud soda’s snoring gets, you’ve learned to tune it out by distracting yourself with a book. your nose is stuffed into little women, the book that dally recommended to you a few nights prior (and admittedly cried to while reading; his tear stains have literally seeped into the pages.) just as you were beginning to fall asleep, the sound knocking on your window startled you into wakefulness. who could be outside at this hour?
you pull your blanket off, scurrying around the room for something you can use for defense. after all those horror movies you’ve watched where the killer breaks into the victim’s house, you’d think you had at least some sort of knife or a pair of scissors you could use to protect yourself. but for now, that can of hairspray on your vanity will have to do— maybe you could spray your killer’s eyes and blind him?
as you make your way towards the window, the hairspray can in your hand, a familiarly gruff voice begins to utter something. “open up, doll! you’ve got me all romeo and juliet-ing right now!”
you let out a sigh of relief, sliding open the window. thank god it was just dallas, but what was he doing at your window while everyone else is asleep?
“you scared me, you know? i could’ve-“ you look down at your can of hairspray, then set it onto your window sill. “i could’ve sprayed you with that, and then your face would be stuck forever!”
“what, you don’t like my handsome face?” he smirks. it’s that stupid, cocky smirk that he always does, and he looks damn handsome doing it.
you roll your eyes at his remark, sliding the window back down. “just get in bed, you must be cold from standing out there.”
dallas’ eyes dart around your room, taking a moment to observe all of his surroundings. compared to all of the feminine aspects in your room, he sticks out like a sore thumb, practically drowning in a pool of lace and pearls. he then takes a seat on the edge of your bed, rubbing his hand along your floral sheets as he picks out a teddy bear from your collection of stuffed animals lined up against your bed.
“what’s with all these, uh.. stuffed animals?” he holds up your favorite out all the stuffed animals, ruffling the top of its head.
you take the teddy bear, putting it back in its original position. “i guess i never really got rid of them,” you shrug. “we need to get some sleep.”
“we?” he raises a brow.
you slide into your bed, lifting up the blanket for him. “yes, we. aren’t you tired?”
“i guess.” dallas slips into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you as he takes in your scent. though he’ll never admit it, he’s always loved the way you smelt like freshly baked cookies— it brings a soft of comfort to him that he never received. your scent reminds him of a warm bonfire, the sound of crackling overlapping with laughter. to him, you are the home he never had, the love he never knew existed in such a cold heart like his. you were his solace.
his hand moved up to your shoulder, gently running his fingers through your hair and twirling a strand. his touch was soothing against your skin, careful to not accidentally wake you. soon enough, both of you were asleep, safe and sound.
the next morning, you’re awoken by a loud, screeching noise, but much to your surprise, it isn’t your alarm. your eldest brother, darry, is furiously shaking you and dallas awake.
“Y/N, WHAT THE HELL IS DALLAS DOING IN YOUR BED?”
you groggily wipe your eyes, taking a glance at dally, then looking up at darry. “it’s 8 in the morning, and why do you care that he’s sleeping with me?!”
“i care because it’s dallas we’re talking about, god dammit! get him out of your bed!” darry flips over the blanket, shaking him awake.
the sound of darry’s yelling echoes throughout the house and eventually wakes up pony and soda. the two of them rush into your room, and as soon as they realize that dallas is beside you in your bed, their mouths are left agape.
“holy shit, y/n! you’ve been hanging around with dal this whole time?” soda huffs out a chuckle, too stunned to even be angry at you.
pony rubs his temples, shaking his head. “you guys are gross.”
dallas sits up, groaning and putting his hands up as if he’s surrendering. “okay, we were sleepin’ together, big deal!” he sighs. “just- look, darry, i ain’t mean to make you upset or whatever! ”
darry lets out a rough exhale, taking a step back from the two of you. he motions for pony and soda to leave with a death glare, then looks back at you as they’re making their way back to their room.
“you know what, i’m not dealing with this right now. we’ll sort everything out by the evening, got it?”
the two of you nod, exchanging satisfied grins. maybe by the evening, your brothers will come to their senses and realize that dallas isn’t really that ‘mean’ or ‘violent’ guy they perceive him to be, but someone with so much love in his heart that’s hidden underneath a façade.
’i’ll keep you my dirty little secret.. ’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡
⊹ side note : i’m so sorry this took so long! it usually doesn’t take me more than a week to finish a fic, but i’ve had a lot to do and this fic is a bit lengthier than my others
-
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daydreams-after-dark · 3 months ago
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Free Use Jail Cell, Part 5
MDNI // 18+ content
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | extra: dinner date with Minho
full master list for additional installments
Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader
Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.
Word Count: 1400 (part 5)
Chapter Summary: Aftercare and kindness from one of the officers.
A/n: This was supposed to be the double pen with the Aussies, but I felt it really important for our y/n to have a breather after that sesh with Jeongin. I promise next chapter it will be them.
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CW: aftercare, introspection, shame, comfort.
You lay on the wet, cold tiles alone, and begin to sob. What had just taken place was intense and now your body is shaking. You can’t make sense of it. You enjoyed what Jeongin did to you, but maybe your body couldn’t handle it?
A  little voice inside you says there must be something wrong with you if that’s the kind of interaction you craved.  
You pull your knees to your chest and will yourself to start counting, just like you were instructed.
One… two… three… 
You’re so fucking sick.
What’s wrong with you?
Four… five… six.
Freak! You’re a freak!
You try to ignore the voice in your head.
You barely get to the count of ten before the bathroom door violently opens. You look up, startled, to find Detective Minho holding a towel and large, thick blanket staring at you with concern.
He puts them down by the sink and immediately comes to crouch down in front of you. 
“You can stop counting now.” He whispers, reaching out to push the wet strands of hair out of your face. 
“Look at me.” He tilts your head up so you can’t do anything but look him in the eye. His expression held a tenderness, much like when he carefully took you to your cell earlier. 
“Fuck. You should have used your safe word, not just the colour system.” He clicks his tongue and stands, helping you to your feet. “Let’s wash you properly and get you warm.”
You know you’re out of it when you can barely stand, but Minho supports you carefully with strong arms. He washes you too, gently, all the while his clothes become more and more drenched.
”Turn around, I need to wash your back.” He says. You allow him to turn you to face the wall while he soaps up your back. You’re not sure what he must be thinking, but you don’t want him  getting the wrong idea about his - you’re not sure what they are to each other. Friend? Colleague?
”I wanted it.” You whisper ashamedly. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” You’re met with a grunt and silence.
”How did you know I was here?” You ask.
”Jeongin came and got me straight away.” He replied. “We’re not really going to leave you without aftercare. We’re not that bad.” He scoffs at the last part of the sentence, as though he doesn’t quite believe himself.
He shuts off the water and dries you down with the towel. Neither of you say anything, despite the fact you have so many questions. He is intriguing to you, and, for some reason, you feel safest with him. 
Sure Officer Han and Hyunjin seem safe and kind, but Minho? He feels protective, considerate. Even if he did do those extreme things to you in the interrogation room.
After he deems you dry enough, he wraps the thick blanket around you.
”Are we going straight to the Chief and-“
”You’re not in any state to go there yet. You’re going to rest.” He decides, and leads you back towards your cell. 
But that’s not where he’s taking you. You realize you’re headed to the interrogation rooms. Your heart picks up a gear, and you wonder if you’re in for a surprise scenario? Maybe Minho wants another turn of you? The thought makes you feel nervous in your stomach, but not in a fearful way. Oh god, you’re not feeling feelings are you?
Officer Minho opens the door to an interrogation room, and it can’t be any more different from the one you were in earlier. This one has painted walls, fresh, clean linoleum flooring, and a warm glow coming from the lamps around the room. A desk stands where the metal slab of a table was in the other room, and a couch on the far wall. 
“Come, sit. Rest.” Minho instructs, gesturing to the couch.
You do as you’re told, and sit on the couch, tucking your legs up and snuggling into the blanket.
Minho sits next to you, picking up a book from a side table and begins to read. 
You’re not sure what to do. He obviously doesn’t want to chat, or fuck, so you decide to close your eyes and rest just like he suggested.
You would love to ask him why he does this for a job, or even something as little as what his favorite food, or movie is. But you don’t. You’re far more tired than you thought, drifting off quickly.
You’re not sure how long you’d been asleep for when a soft knock at the door has you stirring, and you open an eye to watch Han enter the room with coffee cups. You let your eyes close again, listening to their conversation. 
“Looks like Jeongin really gave it to her?” He whispers in a shocked tone. 
“She’s fine. Just needs to rest. From what Jeongin said, she used the color code orange, then requested he use the real knife.”
Han let out a low whistle. “No wonder she needed to hire us if this is what her fantasies entail.” He pauses. “She looks so pretty when she’s asleep.” He coos.
“Absolutely not.” Minho says sternly.
“But,” he whines. “She was really into it before.”
“We’re not on the clock. She needs rest, and besides, you will get another chance tomorrow.”
“Ugh! I had to share her before, and tomorrow I’ll have to share her with everyone.” You can’t see him but you can tell by his tone he’s pouting. 
“Ya! I had to share too, remember.” He growls.
Their bickering is oddly comforting, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep again, dreaming of Minho taking you out for a meal and talking about normal, everyday things.
————-
You wake to the smell of coffee and a cooked breakfast, although you’re not sure whether it’s really morning or not. You lost track of time long ago.
“Here, y/n. Eat.” Minho hands you a plate of eggs, toast and sausages. “You’ll need your strength for your final two encounters.” 
You take the plate, smiling at the man who looks like he hasn't slept a wink. Was he watching over you?
He perches himself on the edge of the desk and watches you take a bite of toast. 
“What made you sign up for… this?” He asks curiously. 
You hesitate. “Well…” you set the slice of toast down on the plate. “ Oh god can you really share this? “It’s just…I’ve got these really intense fantasies. I don’t know why. I don’t know where they came from.” Tears begian to form in your eyes. “I guess I’m just some sick freak or something.”
You can’t hold back the tears and they spill down your cheeks and Minho is by your side in a heartbeat. 
“Hey, hey… shh.” He pulls your hands away from where you’re trying to hide your face. “Listen to me. You’re absolutely not a sick freak. Who the fuck made you believe that?” 
It was all your previous partners. Their words ring in your head. 
You’re too much.
Why would you want me to do that?
What’s wrong with you?
Every single one of them made you think there's something wrong with you. You tried to make the fantasies go away. You really did. But they wouldn’t. You couldn’t shake them. You tried to be satisfied with “regular” sex, and yes, that was enjoyable to a point. But you craved more.
“Why do you do this job?” You meet his eyes. He hesitates, eyes blinking rapidly. Maybe no one has ever asked him this?
“Because I have intense fantasies too.” He leans back on the couch. “I think all of us here do. I think all of us have felt different, or like as you said, a “freak”, but we’re not. None of us, including you, are freaks. As long as boundaries and rules are established, it’s perfectly fine.”
You swallow a lump in your throat. “You’re the first person to make me feel like I’m normal.” You whisper.
He leans forward and wipes the last of your tears away, and you feel a tug in your chest. His eyes catch your lips, and there’s a flicker of want in his expression. Then you remember he doesn’t do “kissing on the lips”. Then why does he look like he wants to?
A silence hangs in the air, but the moment is lost when there’s a knock at the door.
“It’s time.” Minho whispers. 
————-
a/n: Okay, so I am not sure what happened, but Minho! He snuck in and made y/n's heart skip a beat.... and I feel like maybe his did too.
Next up: really, we will have Felix and Channie!
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@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @lunearta @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @galaxycatdrawz @melochacco @jiwoos-babygirl @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat @the-sweet-rose @chrizzztopherbang @velvetmoonlght @youcanstayyeah @skzswife @stephanieeeyang @withnia @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ihrtlino
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @melochacco
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alotofpockets · 7 months ago
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When your heart stops beating | Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Lioness!Reader
Where you go down on the pitch and go into cardiac arrest
Warnings: previous cardiac arrest, medical talk, short mention of ptsd A/n: thank you to the woso writers fanfic club for your ideas on this one & @dyke-medic for your advice on the medical aspect of the recovery!
Read part 1 here
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k
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As a person who is generally very active, always on their feet, and doing one thing or another, bedrest has been hard for you. You knew it was what your body needed to rest, so you listened to the doctor’s advice, still it was a struggle to not just slip out of bed and go on small adventures inside of your home.
Leah had been absolutely amazing. Without a second thought she had called Sarina to tell her that she was pulling out of camp to take care of you. Sarina had completely understood, she had been there on the pitch when it happened, and was just glad to still have you and that Leah was there to take care of you.
Your girlfriend also knew how much of a struggle bedrest for you would be, so she had been distracting you with all kinds of light activity things to pass the time. You had started with movies like on the day that you came back from the hospital, but Leah quickly realised that your brain needed more stimulation than watching a movie, to get through this bedrest. 
So, while you were sleeping, she got her mum to help her get a few things to the house. Within an hour, Amanda had been at the door with a few puzzles, two lego sets you had been wanting, some canvasses and an array of painting supplies. 
“How is she doing?” Amanda asked when Leah handed her a cup of tea and sat down on the couch with her mom. “Other than struggling to stay put, I think she’s doing fine. She hasn’t complained about any pain, though I know she has to be in some. The doctors said her chest can feel sore for up to a month from the CPR.” Amanda didn’t miss the way her daughter’s eyes turned glossy for a second.
“And how are you holding up, sweetheart?” Her mom’s concerned voice got to her. So, when she looked up to her mom, tears welled in her eyes. “I just keep seeing her down on the field and-” She had been trying to stay strong through everything for you, but now that it was just her and her mom, she broke down. Amanda was quick to pull Leah into her. “Oh baby, I know that must have been so scary. It’s okay, let it all out.”
After Leah had shared all her troubles with her mom, and cried all the tears she had been holding back, she heard something behind her. “What are you doing out of bed?” Her eyes widen when she sees you standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Baby, you shouldn’t be walking the stairs all on your own.” She rushed to your side to stabilise you. “Love, I’m allowed to do light activity if I feel good enough, which I do. So, really it’s fine.” 
Amanda saw by her daughter’s body language that everything was moving too fast for her, so she stepped in. “Sweetheart, why don’t you take a shower? I’ll keep y/n company in the meantime.” Leah sighs reluctantly. “Fine,” She turned to you next, “but you, you will sit down while doing light activities.” You knew she was just worried about you and that she meant well. “Alright love, I will. Now go take a shower, I’ll be right here until you come back, I promise.” You sat down at the kitchen table. 
“I know it might seem like she’s being too overprotective, but our girl means well.” You smile when Amanda puts a sandwich down in front of you. “Yeah, I know she means well. I was a mess after seeing her do her ACL, so I can only imagine what it’s like for her, you know?” Amanda nods, “Yeah, maybe you two should stay away from injuries for the rest of your careers.” Her joke makes you chuckle, “Trust me, I am not planning to do anything like this ever again.”
When Leah gets back down she watches from the door frame as you’re laughing with her mom, at the dining table where you had promised to stay put, now with a puzzle in front of you on the table. She knew you were in good hands with her mom, still she worried that something would happen when she wasn’t there and she wouldn’t be able to do anything.
A big part of the afternoon was spent finishing the puzzle with the two Williamson women. For the first time since you left the hospital you had felt normal. Leah also noticed that you were way more relaxed like how she had thought something more interactive would do. 
Leah saw you physically getting stronger again, and it was helping ease her worries little by little. Today was the second full day at home, and you were ready to get some fresh air. It took some convincing for Leah to be okay with you going on a walk, but with her hand tightly wrapped around your hand, you were finally outside again. The fresh air did wonders to your mood, and having Leah with you was always an added bonus.
Though the walk was nice, you were exhausted after. This time it was Leah who had to do some convincing. It didn’t take much though, to get you to lay down and take a nap. She laid with you, and let you fall asleep in her arms.
After a good nap, you felt much better again, and Leah had lined up another activity. While she intended these for your recovery, she found herself enjoying them a lot. It wasn’t often when you had the time to do stuff like this during the football season. With both of you being starters for Arsenal and the Lionesses, your schedules were rather full, and when there was some free space, you were often found hanging out with friends and family. While this time stemmed from a bad situation, you made the best of it and enjoyed the time you got to spend together.
You were putting the finishing touches on your painting while Leah was staring at you lovingly. “Stop, you’re distracting me!” You chuckled. “Hm, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You rolled your eyes in a joking manner, while you got your painting done. Leah had seen a few TikTok videos where couples would paint each other and then revealed them to each other at the end. 
“Please don’t be mad.” You looked over your canvas and to say it kindly, you were not artistically inclined enough to make your girlfriend look as beautiful as she was. “Oh, now I am very intrigued.” You showed off your masterpiece first. Leah tried to hold back her laughter, but failed miserably. “How does that look like me?” She said between tears. “Ehm, a blonde with Gunner earrings, there is no one else it could be.” You both had a laugh before it was Leah’s turn to show off her painting. “Oh my god, what are you complaining about, that doesn’t look any more like me than my painting looks like you!” 
You had also started on building the lego sets together, but you decided to do a couple pages a day to make the activity last a bit longer.
Over the next couple of days, you were able to walk further and further again. You wanted to try running again, but Leah managed to talk you down from that. “Let’s wait for the physios to be there, shall we?” You knew she was right, but you just wanted to get back out there. 
Another activity you had picked up was cooking together. Everyone knew that Leah was no chef and that you were a pretty decent home cook. So, you used the injury card to get to teach Leah some new things.
You were walking around the kitchen again as if nothing happened, and that is exactly how you felt. No more pain and no more energy loss. You were ready to get back to training, and tomorrow was finally that day.
“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Leah asked as she plopped herself down on the counter. “I'm a little nervous, but I am ready to get back out there.” You get a bit of the pasta sauce you made from scratch on a spoon and feed it to Leah. “Hm, tastes amazing, love.” Stepping forwards, you stand between her legs. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” She puts her arms around your waste. “It should be about you.” You shake your head, “It might be my comeback, but you and the team were the ones that experienced the scary part. Your feelings are valid too, and I want to know them.” Leah told you she was nervous too, but that she was confident that the physios and the rest of the medical team would take great care of you.
The next day you felt nervous on your way to the training centre, Leah tried her best to comfort you, but nerves were bound to happen. While the doctors said everything should be fine, it was still your heart you were talking about, so every precaution would be taken. 
The moment you walk into the dinning hall, you are hugged by your teammates, who are all happy to see you. All of them had come by on short visits over the past week, but nothing compared to seeing you decked out in your full training kit.
Leah’s eyes did not leave you for even a second, as you were training to the side with the physios. With a cardiac monitor to track everything properly, you were starting training slowly. Building up step by step, and you couldn’t be happier to be working on your comeback.
During a small break, Leah was by your side instantly to ask you how you were feeling. You hugged her and kissed her on her cheek. “I feel great.” Leah smiled at your enthusiasm. “I am so proud of you baby.”
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Lionesses just posted
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Lionesses: Things we love to see! After being diagnosed with commotio cordis following a blunt trauma to the chest last week, Y/n has made her comeback to training. She will be training seperately from the team, so we can monitor her well. A full return doesn't seem far away!
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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗
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slut4celebs · 3 months ago
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Jersey Swap
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Sabrina Carpenter x Reader
Word Count: 1,056 words
Trigger Warnings: nothing but a lot of cute fluff imo, I know nothing about soccer so I left that part kind of short and looked up random players.
Request/Synopsis: "i was thinking like the reader is a really good and famous soccer/football player. Maybe like her a sabrina are in a secret relationship and havent told the public yet so sabrina comes to one of her games wearing her jersey. Then maybe reader goes to her concert and like comes on stage or something idk." - A fic in which Sabrina wears R's to a game and (Y/n) wears a custom made Sabrina jersey to her show.
Requests are open. < Please guys, I'm begging.
Sabrina Carpenter and (Y/n) (L/n) had decided to keep their relationship private over the course of a year due to the backlash over Sabrina's last few relationships and (Y/n) being a much private relationship. However, this was proving to be harder as time has gone on, and they've been wanting to actually go out on dates together or hold hands in public. It was something they had to discuss, but they finally figured out how they would come out as a couple to the fans without giving up their full privacy or hardlaunching on social media. They chose a more demure way to get their point across without giving too many details away or letting the media comment on their posts.
It started with (Y/n)'s soccer game. Sabrina attended with her best friend, Joey King. She wore a custom made jersey with (Y/n)'s last name on it. At one point, during the game, (Y/n) even blew Sabrina a kiss. It was in the little moments, if someone was paying close enough attention, they'd catch it. And saying as women's soccer had a majority of gay watchers, someone was bound to catch up on it pretty soon. Sabrina blew a kiss back, making (Y/n) grin before the coach yelled for her to get her head in the game. Lucky for her, her face was too red from running for it to be too obvious she was blushing from being reprimanded. After the game, (Y/n), Sabrina, and Joey (as well as a few teammates) were pictured at a restaurant.
The next night, there wasn't incredibly commotion on Sabrina and (Y/n). Only a few people caught onto their charade, but their posts weren't reaching anyone yet. (Y/n) pulled on her custom Sabrina Carpenter jersey, lying on her girlfriend's bed. When Sabrina got out of the restroom, having just put on some make-up for soundcheck, she grinned. "I love that on you," she commented happily, leaning down to kiss her girlfriend, who reciprocated the kiss happily. (Y/n) was, admittedly, a sucker for her girlfriend's kisses. She was enamored by everything Sabrina was. She was incredible on stage and off. (Y/n) couldn't help the way she simply admired her girlfriend to the fullest.
At the show, (Y/n) was in a special section alongside her teammate, Naomi Girma. While Girma had some merch on, it was (Y/n) who adorned the custom jersey and had a big kiss mark on her cheek, put there by Sabrina. It was the transition from Dumb & Poetic where Sabrina is pretending to arrest someone from the crowd. That someone happened to be (Y/n). "Um, excuse me, everyone, but do you see that girl in my jersey? Next to that soccer player. Her name is (Y/n)…" She said coyly, being extra flirty on stage. "Girls, girls… See that girl? She's under arrest for being too hot and sexy." She said with a fake pout to her dancers. One holding up pink, fluffy handcuffs. (Y/n) laughed and blushed as Girma shoved her shoulders playfully.
"Oh, my gosh… Ladies, I just… She's so gorgeous that I'm thinking so many inappropriate thoughts right now and- oh my gosh my clothes. My clothes are falling off just with her looking at me." She said, the bottom half of her skirt falling off, leaving her in a shorter skirt. "Jeez, that's so embarrassing… It just falls off when my girlfriend looks at me, guys. Like I'm just so in love, you know? I'll hold onto these for later, baby." She took the handcuffs, smirking slightly when she announced that they were girlfriend's, the agreed upon approach that left (Y/n)'s cheeks burning. She didn't realize it would make her blush so much.
As Juno played, (Y/n) couldn't take her eyes off Sabrina, knowing full well many cameras were on her. Once the show was over, she and Girma were escorted backstage to meet with Sabrina. She hugged her girlfriend, kissing her. "When you said you were going to call me your girlfriend on stage, I wasn't expecting that." She flicked her shoulder playfully, a huge grin decorating her lips as she looked over her mischievous girlfriend.
Sabrina had an impish smile on her face, holding up the handcuffs playfully. (Y/n) blushed darker as Girma snorted at the scene in front of her. "That's your own fault. I told you to I was going to do it in a very 'me' way." She responded, earning two hands up in surrender from (Y/n) because, after all, she was right. She did say she was going to do in her way. And. knowing Sabrina, she was going to make it comedic. She just didn't expect to actually be a part of the show. It was funny though, and she liked it. She especially didn't mind Sabrina telling the world that she was "so in love" either.
"Right, right. Well, come on. We have to get Naomi home on time. She has a curfew." She teased her friend, Girma rolling her eyes. As the three walked out, they made their way through a special exit. That didn't mean that they weren't bombarded with a few fans regardless. The fans who waited wanted several pictures of Sabrina and (Y/n) together, and Naomi was happy to not be as in the spotlight, as it was overwhelming just as an onlooker.
The next morning, the 'Jersey Swap,' as it was deemed was being reported everyone. Those who captured Sabrina and Joey at (Y/n)'s game (and the two of them blowing kisses) might now be experiencing newfound TikTok fame having witnessed the beginning of Sabrina and (Y/n) going public. The two laughed as they went through the TikToks, ignoring any negative ones. "Looks like we're out in the world, now." (Y/n) said before they shared a kiss. They decided not to make a post about each other, agreeing to only share pictures on special occasions, such as, their birthdays and anniversaries. They still wanted to remain private. Only now, if they wanted to go out, it wouldn't be a secret that they were together. It was just them going out. It was a new feeling that flooded the two as they basked in each other's presence.
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 10 months ago
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1.7k / 21 / soap soulmate au, part 2
...
Unfortunately, Ghost finds you before Soap does.
Ghost yanks you by the elbow, cuffs around your wrists, dragging you to an unmarked military vehicle, pistol in hand.
"Where are you taking me?" you ask him.
He shoves you into the back seat and slams the door, gets in on the other side and starts the car up. You right yourself, having been shoved hard enough for your ribs to bounce off the leather seats.
He answers without looking at you. "The base." Curt, cold, and pissed. He drops the gun barrel-down into the cup holder.
"We just left the base."
"Huh. So we did." He keeps his eyes on the road. "Ain't that funny."
There’s a chance he’s not 141. As if there’s some other brick shithouse of a man who wears a skull balaclava around.
You shift in your seat. "What do you want from me?"
“Nothin' that'll feel good, I can tell ya that." He rests his elbow on the center console. “We’re gonna have a long talk."
"And then what?"
“Dunno. Maybe a bullet. Depends on how much you piss me off. Got a lot of questions to ask you first.”
Great.
You look around. This isn’t a police vehicle. Barely a military vehicle. There’s no barrier between you and that gun in the front seat cupholder. But you’re not an idiot. He knows you won't go for it, too, but he wants you to try.
You lean back, looking out the window at your side. "You can still turn yourself in. You don’t need to resort to hostages.”
“I made my choice. Not a difficult choice, considering how corrupt Shadow Company is."
“Orders are orders.”
“You always follow orders to arrest your friends, no questions asked?”
“When there’s good reason to.”
"Good reason, my ass. You're just a mindless dog, doing whatever Graves says. You think he'll protect you from the consequences of his actions? He'll toss you to the wolves in a heartbeat if it means saving his own sorry ass."
"That's not true."
"It's the mercenary way, innit. Sell yourself to the highest bidder and tell yourself orders are orders."
You brace one boot on the other, slowly working one foot free from inside. "Military’s the same. Only difference between us is you're salaried."
“I fight for a cause. Can’t say the same for your line of work. All you know how to do is gun targets down for cash and a little approval from your boss. Pathetic.”
Your heel slides loose. “No cause is clean. You can’t tell me you’ve never seen corruption in your line of work. Or a bad call. Or an unnecessary death.”
He grips the wheel, glaring at you in the mirror. “Doesn’t make it right. Sure as hell doesn’t mean you turn a blind eye to goddamn betrayal in your own ranks.”
“Some bureaucrat in a suit fumbling the bag and trying to right wrongs doesn’t make us corrupt. Graves knows what he’s doing—"
"So you knew."
Your jaw snaps closed mid-sentence. Shit.
He's staring right at you in the rearview mirror, eyes so cold they could freeze the breath in your lungs. "You knew about Shepherd. Didn't you?"
You swallow, looking away from the mirror and out the window. Your left foot finally comes free, and you shift subtly to brace your heel on your right boot, beginning to work your right foot loose next. "Doesn't matter."
“You followed orders to turn on your own allies, knowing they came from Shepherd. Knowing all he cares about is covering his own mistakes." He grips and re-grips the wheel slowly, as if he's thinking hard about picking up that handgun and ending your life in a ditch somewhere. "Welcomed us into a slaughterhouse for a fistful of cash. Bet you sleep real easy at night."
You trust Graves. He’s never steered you wrong. You were doing the right thing by following orders. That mantra is stuck in your throat. You want it to be true, but then there’s Johnny.
Ghost hasn't mentioned him by name. The Shadows never found him—he got away—but you don't dare let yourself think about the implications of him being alive and knowing about you. You put it out of your mind as soon as the thought surfaces, even. You made a deal with yourself that you'd never dwell on it again. Much less ask his very hostile squadmate about it. You’re not about to offer your arteries up to a butcher.
"Shepherd is in your chain of command, too."
"Not anymore. You and yours made sure of that."
"You didn't have to defect. Commander Graves asked you to come quietly. You would've been fine. You didn't do anything wrong, right?” You hear an edge in your tone and blunt it back down. "You didn't have anything to hide. But you turned it into a firefight."
"You realize you’re defending the bastard that sold out me and my team. You think I'd lay down, let him put us in some jail cell to rot for the rest of our days? I've seen too many people follow orders, trusting that everyone above them has their best interests at heart. Seen more than a few of them get punished at the hands of men like Shepherd. I'm not giving him another chance to betray me.” You still feel his eyes on you in the mirror, but you don't look. "You never once stopped and questioned what you were told to do? Or did it not matter because your loyalty was to your company, not the right thing?" His voice is flat. "That's the difference between me and you. I don't look for excuses to feel better about my actions. And I damn sure don't turn my gun on my allies.”
Your stomach curls with discomfort. "You had a choice. You knew how this would end for you."
"Rather be a wanted criminal for the right reasons than a gun being pointed at whoever Shepherd wants dead. And wouldn't you know it--I'm in damn good company, too. Turns out sticking to a moral code earns you a little more loyalty than payin’ cash. But you want to know what the best part of being a criminal is?" He taps out an odd little tune on the wheel, but there’s nothing warm or cute about it. The loaded gun would be friendlier to contend with. “I don’t have to follow Shepherd’s orders. I’m free to deal with this little problem as I see fit, and no one can tell me I’m wrong. If I kill some mercenaries who would arrest me on sight, that's just the unfortunate collateral damage that comes with my newfound freedom and your buddies following orders."
You consider that for a long moment. “So when do you plan to kill me?”
"Depends on whether or not I like what I hear in the next couple of hours. Might change my mind in that time. Might not." He takes his hand off the steering wheel to lean back a little. The road is empty, stretching long into the horizon. "The more I hear you talk, the more I feel like shooting you just for the sake of it. But I've got too many questions for that, so..." He lets the implied you live for now hang in the air, then taps the wheel again. "We'll see how the rest of this convo goes."
You manage to slide your right heel free. You glance up to see him looking at you in the mirror again. Your heart skips. You think he's caught you. But he doesn't say anything, and you realize he's just examining you, mulling something over.
“I don’t know what you think I can tell you, but I don’t know anything,” you say.
“Why don’t you just stay quiet and think about all that stuff you don’t know. Maybe we’ll starve you until you talk; maybe we’ll grease your palms. That’s how you operate, hm?”
He’s trying to make you angry, make you take the bait, but you don’t. You know what you are.
You keep both feet carefully lowered into your boots so as not to rouse suspicion. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you and your buddy got hurt.”
That seems to catch him off guard. He frowns. A beat passes where he doesn't say anything, just watches you. Not angry or suspicious, just... calculating. "Not worth much. And his name is Johnny. But you knew that, didn't you?"
You look away. Ghost's cell phone rings.
The sound pulls his attention away from you. He glances down at the display with a frown.
"On with Ghost." A short reply. "Yeah, I got her. About three hours out." He glances at you once as the person on the other line says something else, but after a few more seconds, you can tell he's more concerned with what they're saying than with you.
This is your chance.
With his eyes fixed on the road, you silently pull your cuffed arms under you, lifting your feet deftly through the loop of your arms.
You glance down at the gun one more time. He’s holding the phone with his left hand; driving with his right. Still, even with your hands in front of you, you’re cuffed. You won’t have a chance if you go for that gun and he gets it away from you. It won’t end well.
Plan B, then.
You push your feet back into your boots and slide yourself behind his seat.
"Hey!"
Drill Sergent voice. Busted.
He hits the brakes, drops his phone, and reaches for the pistol.
You slam your feet into the back of his seat, sending him crashing forward and trapping him between the seat and the wheel. The horn blares. The car jerks and runs off the road.
Cuffed hands in front of you, you throw your weight against the driver's side door and grab the handle. He reacts, but not quick enough, his gloved hand snatching at the space where yours were a second after you get the door open.
You dive outside, crash to the ground, roll ungracefully away from the back wheels as they roar past, and use the momentum to get back to your feet. The car keeps rolling, driver's side door still open. It's still moving fast, and you landed hard. That's going to hurt in a minute. Not yet, though.
You run.
...
part 1 / [part 2] / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12
more Soap / masterlist tag
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feyhunter78 · 1 month ago
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Three Times Buck Wanted to Sleep with You (and the One Time He Did) Pt 2
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Description: Weeks after drunk texting him, you get a call and much more from a very high and very honest Buck.
Part 1
“Y/N, my favorite girl, how are you doing this fine day? Don’t tell Maddie I said you’re my favorite she’ll be upset.” Buck says, his voice weirdly hushed but also loud at the same time.
You pull the phone away from your ear, double checking the time and pinching yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.
“Hi Buck, I’m doing good, how about you?” You ask, slightly suspicious.
“I’m seeing pollen right now, and I saw this cat on the street that reminded me of you, and I just had to call you, it was so cute.”
You huff a laugh, and lean back in your green faux velvet armchair, your next patient isn’t due to show up for another half an hour, you’ve got time to entertain whatever this is. “That’s so sweet, but what do you mean you’re seeing pollen, is the count really high or something?”
“No, no like I’m seeing it, right in front of my eyes, and I think I’m hearing it too.”
Okay now you’re a little concerned.
“Buck, where are you, aren’t you working today?” You ask carefully, already sending a text to Athena asking if she’s anywhere near the station.
“Some convention center, there’s a bunch of tiny beauty queens here, tiniest ladies I’ve ever seen. Why wanna hang out?”
“Are—are you out in the field right now?”
“Yeah, but you know you can always come by, you’re my girl, I always want to see you. Plus, Eddie and Hen are here too, they said you should come hang out.”
His girl, his girl, his girl. He’s going to kill you, always telling you that you’re his best friend, dodging all your sober and drunk attempts at seduction, only to turn around and do this.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come to the scene of an active emergency, plus I’ve got a patient soon.” You tell him, pulling your phone away again to read Athena’s text.
Athena: Yeah, I’ve got the three of them in my sights, looks like they’ve been dosed with something.
“Aw boo, ditch the kid, he’ll survive a missed therapy appointment I missed a ton as a kid.” Buck says, and you can hear Eddie booing in the background, though you’re pretty sure he has no idea what’s going on.
Y/N: Dosed???? With what????
“Okay um we’re gonna circle back to that comment but Buck, are you high right now?” You stand and begin to pace.
Athena: We have to arrest them; think you can rein Buck in?
Y/N: I’ll try
“High on life, on the sound of your voice, and maybe I put a bit too much pre workout in my shake this morning.” He draws out the “e” sound in maybe, and you try to ignore how you can hear him smiling through the phone.
“Come on, I’m serious.” You say, biting down on a manicured nail worriedly.
“I’m serious.” He mimics, then he gets loud again. “Whoa hey Athena, no fair, I’m talking to y/n.”
“Buck, just let Athena put you in handcuffs, it’s for your safety and the safety of others.” You say making your tone soothing, trying to lull him into doing what Athena says.
“Call me baby. Like you did in the bar when you wanted that guy to leave you alone, and maybe I will.” He says, his voice teasing and low.
He’s such a brat, you can’t believe you’re in love with him.
You can hear Athena groan in the background, and you sigh heavily; your face flushing even though you’re alone. “Buck, baby, will you please go quietly with Athena?”
“Will you come bail me out?” He counters.
“You’re not going to jail Buck.” Athena says, flatly.
“How about I come to the station after my next patient, and you just sit pretty waiting for me?”
“You know I’d wait forever for you sweetheart.” He purrs, and your stomach flips.
“You’re so sweet, now let Athena arrest you, I have to go.” You say quickly, trying not to scream.
“Okay, bye y/n.” He says, and you can hear Eddie and Hen chiming in as well.
You race over to the 118 after your last patient, tapping your nails on the steering wheel, worrying at your bottom lip. Your shoes click against the concrete of the floor, and you take the steps two at a time until you see him. He’s half slumped on the kitchen table, but he brightens when he sees you.
“Y/N!” He stands quickly, closing the distance between you, wrapping you in a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.
“Buck—put me down!” You laugh, clinging to him for balance.
“No, if I put you down, you’ll leave again.” He pouts, his large hands going to your thighs, holding you up, your legs wrapping around him in an extra effort to keep yourself steady.
It’s not even necessary, Buck’s arms aren’t even slightly straining under your weight, it’s like you weigh less than a bunch of grapes.
“I just got here, I'm not going anywhere.” You tell him, face burning hotter and hotter the longer he keeps you in his grip.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He smiles, and your stupid heart skips a beat.
“Although you’re the one who ran out on me the other week.” You drawl, taking advantage of his diverted attention to draw circles on the nape of his neck with your nails.
“The other week?” Buck’s cheeks redden and he looks dazed, distracted, his hands squeezing your thighs every so often, an unconscious reflex or a side effect of the drugs? You’re not sure.
You bite your lip and Buck’s eyes drift to it. “My apartment? Before all the craziness and the countywide emergencies, I offered to make you breakfast, and you just bolted.”
“Oh yeah…” Buck says, as he carries you over to the couch, sitting down, keeping you in his lap. “Sorry about that, that was rude of me, huh?”
“A little bit.” You tell him, hoping no one comes upstairs, because Buck might not have any shame, but you sure do.
“Let me make it up to you.” He says, giving you the most puppy dog look you’ve ever seen.
“Buck you’re high, we can talk about this when you’re sober.” You tell him, moving to get off his lap.
He holds you fast, his large hands on your hips. “You said you wouldn’t leave.”
Yeah, you’re definitely gonna bring this up to him at a later date, he needs to talk to a professional about his abandonment issues.
“Buck I can’t just be straddling you in your place of work, it’s not appropriate.”
He pouts but lets you move to sit beside him, keeping his hands on your hips. “Fine, fine, but seriously y/n, I’ll make it up to you, anything, tell me what I have to do.”
Tell me you love me, tell me you want me, tell me I’m not crazy. You want to say it, he’s high as hell, he won’t remember, but it feels wrong, like you’d be taking advantage of him somehow.
“You don’t need to make it up to me, we’re friends, I shouldn’t have expected anything more.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean?” Buck asks, his brows furrowed.
“We’re friends, you say it all the time, and I know I shouldn’t expect more than friend behavior from you, but sometimes I’m a little delusional.”
“And?”
“And?” Now it’s your turn to furrow your brows. “No and, that’s it.”
He shakes his head. “There’s always an and.”
“Fine, and I want more.”
“More friend stuff?” He asks, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt seeking out your skin.
“More than friend behavior. But I know you don’t feel that way, and really, we shouldn’t even be having this conversation right now, you won’t even remember—”
Buck drags you back into his lap, and kisses you, his lips soft, melding with yours, intent on devouring you, and fuck you’ve wanted this for so long, but you can’t, he’s not in his right mind.
You break the kiss, and pull back, stomach flipping when his lips chase yours, giving you that puppy dog pout he wears so well.
There’s a heartbreaking uncertainty that flickers across his face. “I thought—?”
“No, no you’re right, you thought right, it’s just Buck, you’re high.” You stress, cupping his cheeks, swiping your thumbs back and forth along his cheekbones.
“Yeah y/n, I know.” He groans, “everyone keeps reminding me.”
“And just like how you told me no when I was drunk, I’m telling you no now.” You say firmly, undercutting it by booping his nose.
He wrinkles his nose in response, all uncertainty gone. “Fine, fine, you’re a good person y/n, kinda a tease, but it’s okay I still love you.”
You swallow hard and get off his lap. “Yeah, let’s see how you feel when you sober up.”
Eventually Maddie comes to pick Buck up and you head home, thoroughly wiped by the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on. Falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You wake up the next day to a text from Buck.
Buck: Fully sober, I meant what I said, did you?
Y/N: Yeah I’ve actually been flirting with you for months now, so
Buck: I’ll be over in thirty sweetheart, and I’m bringing breakfast. No running out this time I promise
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liillyliilly · 7 months ago
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Detective Business
kenji sato x reader words; 7009 synopsis; enemies to friends to lovers- she's a private investigator and he's just ultraman (but she doesn't know that). she also has to deal with that annoying pro baseball player who just won't leave her alone.
Trying to find the identity of Ultraman is no easy job for the Tokyo Investigative Department, but for her? It’s more than finding Ultraman, it's about also finally arresting Kenji Sato for his reckless driving on the highway.
Unfortunately, she’s also a reckless driver. Which is why Kenji Sato was folding his arms and frowning while she pulled out a pad of ticket paper from under her motorcycle’s seat. The rain was dripping on her helmet and Mr. Sato’s white shirt was getting soaked through.
“I just think I shouldn’t be getting a ticket, Officer.”
“I’m not an officer, I’m a private investigator under contract with the department. Don’t lump me with them.” She bites the pen cap off and starts writing a ticket for him clocking in at around 170 kilometers per hour.
“You don’t even have a radar detector, so the only way you know I was speeding is because you were too.” Kenji kicks off from the wall of the divider on the highway. He inspects her motorbike slowly, dragging fingers over the dashboard and the mirrors. The key in her ignition is black, with a small baseball keychain, he notes this and keeps it in mind.
She grins, “As I said, I’m not a policeman.” She lowers her voice a little, “My bike isn’t factory tuned like theirs are.”
He groans, upset at her for giving him the ticket. But also because she intrigued him more than most people did. MINA spoke into his helmet, reminding him about the Kaiju raging in Sendai. He shushes MINA’s comments.
She scoffs, assuming that the shush was for her. She shoves the ticket into his chest, accidentally soaking up some water that was drenching his t-shirt.
“If you want to fight the ticket, go to Courthouse 5 in Tokyo at 9 am on Wednesday. A representative from the department will have all my notes from this. And Mr. Sato, please drive safely, it’s raining. Hydroplaning is no joke.”
“I’ll drive safely if you drive safely, Officer.” He laced the title with some grittiness, the kind of tone that grinds her gears.
“I’m not an officer. I’m-”
“A private investigator, yes I know, you’ve told me three times before. Since you’re the only one who can actually clock me going above the speed limit.” He rolls his eyes, “Same time next week Officer?”
She sighs, putting the visor of her helmet down. When she gets onto her bike, kicking up the stand and revving her engine, Kenji teases her and blows an overdramatic kiss in her direction where she can clearly see it in her mirrors. She brings her hand up to throw him a middle finger, he earnestly returns the gesture.
The road is empty now, and she’s far enough away to not recognize Kenji using his willpower to morph into Ultraman, needing to get to Sendai soon according to MINA’s instructions.
MINA speaks into his audio system, “You really should listen to her. She’s smart. Safe driving is critical in the rain Ken.”
“MINA, I love you, but please shut up.”
She never liked arrogant people. Maybe because she was arrogant herself? But the real reason for arrogance is that it masks the reality behind the person, it’s a cover for something more futile and undeniably human. Arrogance acts like a shield holding back a person from revealing too much. For her, arrogance defended against her ideals. The world could be changed to be better. Peace is well within a grasp. That ideal, that dream of what the world could be is hidden and buried deep within her. To cover for it, arrogance does a great job biting into people she meets.
It’s a good thing her best friend was always there for her. Ito Yuuta, rookie of the year and a new addition to the Yomiuri Giants baseball team. He was one of the first round draft picks, immediately getting sweeped into the team. So there she sat with Yuuta, while he threw pitches in the baseball cage, her talking about his teammate with disdain.
Yuuta clocked in some high speeds, and was extremely sweaty. His shoulder was killing him, but practicing as often as possible was a new priority if he wanted to be utilized and get off the bench for this season.
“I don’t understand how you can play on a team with a guy like that.” She chews a piece of licorice, a guilty pleasure snack that she was addicted to. Yuuta steals a piece and sits next to her.
She’d met Kenji before, in circumstances where she wasn’t giving him a fine for speeding down highways. When her friend got scouted, she met the members of his team at a mixer. Kenji Sato just didn’t seem to play nicely with his teammates. When Yuuta had initially introduced himself, Kenji had given him a signed baseball card, saying something about how selling it would be worth something.
After hearing that story, which Yuuta laughed at and gladly embraced as a characteristic of Kenji’s behavioral traits, she just furrowed her eyebrows and puckered her face. It rubbed her the wrong way for someone to act like that. But she couldn’t control the roster of the Giants’ team.
“He’s a great player. You’re just too tied up in your whole ‘I’m a harbinger of justice and righteousness’ to see that there are people out there with the exact same personality as you.” Yuuta drinks some water and throws a sweaty towel on her, which she tosses back to him in disgust, “Come to a game, watch him play, maybe then you’ll join a fanclub other than mine.”
She clicks her tongue to her teeth, bouncing her knee in consideration. Yuuta let the whole Kenji Sato thing go, and instead just invited her to come watch him play in the most upcoming game.
He had her try to throw a ball, how to raise her leg just enough, bringing her arm and hand back just enough. While he was adjusting the length of her arm and the angling just so, none other than Kenji Sato walked into the baseball gym. He slinks over to the pitching cage and watches for a moment, the rookie member of his team sliding his hands over Kenji’s pretty private investigator. He just had to make a comment, right?
“You should move her hips a little to the left while you’re at it, Ito.” She jumps a little at his voice, dropping the ball. It rolled over to Kenji’s foot through the wire fencing around the cage, he reached down and picked it up from under the cage. Throwing the ball up a little, analyzing it. Ito accepts the help, and uses his hands to twist her hips just a smidge.
She couldn’t help it that she was ticklish. A brief laugh escapes her, and she chokes when she sees Kenji stare right at her. Except it wasn’t at her face, rather where Ito’s hands began to slide up to her waist to tickle her a little more. Kenji presses his lips into a line, tossing the ball over the cage.
Ito yells out a quick thanks and Kenji waves his hand while walking to the locker room.
She throws the ball that Kenji had returned to her. It clocked in at around 128 KPH. Yuuta lets out an approving hum in reaction to the speed of her fastball. She does a little spin and flexes her arms to show off her natural talent. It’s a good thing the locker room had TVs that showed camera footage from all the baseball cages. Kenji laughed at her silliness while he was watching on the screen, tightening his shoes.
A few days later, at the Tokyo Police Station, she’s getting briefed on the newest details of the Ultraman case. It’s all things she’s heard before, and they were no where closer to uncovering the true identity of Japan’s biggest hero. Biggest hero, her ass, more like the biggest vigilante who runs around fighting Kaiju and also destroying the structural integrity of Japan’s cities.
All the secretaries and computer techs loved Ultraman, all the mugs in the kitchen area were Ultraman themed to prove it.
She spins around in her chair, listening to the Head of the Detective Department drone on in his monotone voice.
“Which is why I’ve decided to reach out to the KDF in helping us.”
Now, that was something she did not like. The KDF were brutalistic, inhumane, and quasi-militaristic. It was like their organization ran on the idea of killing out the entire Kaiju race with no concern for the theories and realities that Kaiju could actually help the world. If only people actually did their research and showed patience with the dedicated scientists who worked tirelessly to find out more about Kaiju.
She would prefer Ultraman to the KDF anyday. Ultraman at least gave the Kaiju respect, and he always seemed to guide them in certain directions once he got them to the ocean. Almost as if he was releasing the beasts to their homeland.
“No way. The KDF are horrendous. They treat Kaiju like pests that need to be destroyed. Any sort of information they have on Ultraman’s identity is sure to be unethically obtained.” She raised her concerns, looking to her fellow coworkers for support in backing her statement. They just lowered their heads when faced with her stare.
“Miss. You’re just a private investigator, all you need to do for us is follow instructions and see where our leads take us. And, you’re one to talk about ethically obtaining evidence, we all know your little tricks.”
She bites her tongue, leaning back into her chair. She had three more months of working for the police and then she could go back to discovering cheating husbands and trailing drug cartels for the other government departments. At least when she was doing that she wasn’t at risk for getting crushed underfoot by a superhero or getting lasered by KDF robots and fighter pilots.
Her boss puts a hand on her shoulder, picking away a piece of lint before going back to the head of the table.
“You’ll meet with a KDF representative, take detailed notes, follow the trails you find, and then report back to me. Do you understand?”
She mumbles.
“What was that?”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
That night, she had to put on dressy clothes for the dinner with her KDF intelligence personnel. On the phone with Yuuta, she’d gotten appraised when she slid on a tight black number, “Damn! I thought you only had jeans and black shirts in your closet. Maybe I’ll have to ask you on a real date and not just the baseball banquet in two months.”
She held her head in her hands, while her elbows rested on her desk, phone sat up against her water bottle. Yuuta put the back of his hand against his forehead, giving a playfully deep sigh as he got a view of her cleavage. She rolled her eyes at Yuuta’s behavior, but still felt slightly proud at her ability to clean up nicely.
“Bye Yuuta, I’ll text you later.”
He waves to the camera, holding up a peace sign before finally ending the call.
The restaurant is dimly lit, live jazz music ebbs and flows throughout the building. Tables have white and black cloth laid out, and there’s an overabundance of marble decor. The KDF employee couldn’t have been younger than forty, but the salt and pepper hair did add an appeal she didn’t expect.
He pulled out her chair for her, and had the waiter take her order first. She sipped some water, not wanting to feel buzzed at all from alcohol. He was nice enough, just making some small talk before they got into the real meat of why they were there.
“We have intel that the ‘Hero’ is likely a sporting figure. We’re leaning towards baseball, due to the popularity of the sport. Also, based on audio recordings, he spent time abroad, using a mixture of slang and an American accent to color his lived experiences.” He downs his beer when he finishes the bulk of his information.
She jots the main points down on her notepad. In between sips of water, and bites of her pasta dish, she finds herself quickly making trails and thinking of all the roads she could go down to find Ultraman. When all the information is expressed, she leans back in her chair, waiting for the waiter to come back so she could pay for her meal.
When twenty minutes elapse, she says she’ll go looking for their server so they can leave. He nods, finishing off his fish and chips.
Turning the corner, she bumps into a solid wall. Except, the solid wall lets out a short ouch. It’s Kenji. Despite trying to clearly cover something up, his suit only goes so high on his neck. There’s black and blue bruises canvassing his face and neck, she glances and sees that there’s marks on his hands as well.
“What happened to you?” She reaches out instinctively to touch his cheek where there’s a dark purple bloom from the peak of his cheekbone to right above his jawline. He whines when she makes contact, but eases up when her warm hands soothe the flow of blood beneath his skin.
“You should see the other guy.” He remarks. In response she just scoffs a little, dropping her hand even though he wishes she would’ve just kept it there.
Soon, the salt and pepper KDF member finds her, “Hey, you need to come back.” He waves his card in the air for a moment, letting her know she needed to pay. He motions for her to hurry and come, and Kenji feels appalled. She nods, but Kenji furrows his eyebrows.
“What kind of man makes his date pay?” His voice is scratchy, and only she can hear him.
She puts a hand on his chest, “It's not a date, it’s business.”
Kenji nods, letting his hand graze hers as it slides down his chest. What once was, no longer is.
When the much older man puts a hand on the small of her back, his jaw clenches reflexively. He twitches in pain when he realizes he pulls the muscles where he’d taken a massive hit from the most recent Kaiju attack. At least he’d managed to make the fight only last around thirty minutes. The quickest fight of the year.
His legs were crossed, bouncing his foot that rested on his knee. He used his chopsticks and prodded at his noodles. His private table was hidden in a nook, with a bamboo room divider separating him and the world. Appetite crushed and meal soggy, Kenji pursed his lips slightly. Contemplation could only last for so long.
Pushing his plate away from him, he leaves a stack of bills on the counter. Stalking away to steal one last glance of her. He saw her hair, the curve of her spine, and heard the click of her shoes as the entrance to the restaurant came to a close.
What kind of business did she have, and more importantly who was he to think about what she was doing? The whole internal monologue was getting tired quick, especially when his thoughts had become plagued with her. Everytime he dished his attitude out for her, she served it right back and with her own additions and special spices.
He’d need some sort of counseling. And soon. But did he really?
She was committed to following the outline of details that the KDF personnel had given her. But she just kept running into Kenji Sato and didn’t get anywhere far with her approach.
At first she had tried to study all the baseball teams that had the quickest reaction times to a Kaiju attack. Each time she attended another game, with her hoodie pulled over her head and hands in her pockets, she just saw people running all around trying to escape the stadiums. Not optimal when a person is trying to go towards the danger instead.
A man had narrowly clipped her shoulder, she kept pressing forwards to get to the field. The Kaiju was on the outskirts of the stadium. If Ultraman really was a baseball player he would’ve appeared in the field from where the players had been. Her line of reasoning was that going down to the field and having her camera ready was the optimal discovery technique.
“What are you doing? You need to get away from the Kaiju, not run toward it?” Kenji, still in his Giants uniform, grabbed her by the arm pulling her further away from the baseball diamond. The Kaiju began to stomp away from the stadium. She groaned, ripping her arm away from Kenji.
“Leave me be.” She tried to go toward the center of the field again.
“You have a death wish and I will not be granting it.” He thwarts her plans and gives her the keys to his motorbike when they get to the parking lot, the Kaiju’s roar rumbles lowly from a distance in the eastward direction. “Get on the bike. I swear to the gods, get on the bike.”
She turns the key, and starts the engine. Kenji goes back to the stadium, leaving her to try and track down all the players from the game today who had already left the stadium, maybe following one of them would lead to the Ultraman reveal. An hour later, the Kaiju was back in the water leaving Japan behind. Ultraman’s face and video footage rang through the screens in the streets. She tossed her camera in the air, annoyance clear on her face.
That was the third time that month that Kenji had done something like that, found her trying to go towards the danger instead of avoiding it, and each time he pushed her away and told her to leave.
It was starting to annoy her more and more intensely that she still couldn’t catch a baseball player turning into Ultraman. Why did there have to be so many baseball games, and why were there so many players on every team?
Yuuta had invited her to a practice match between the Giants and a team from Singapore that had flown in for the friendly. She obliged him, thinking that she could narrow down her list of baseball players better if a foreign team was playing as well. It was around mid-game, and she didn’t expect another Kaiju attack so soon after the last one. Alarms blared and the ground rumbled.
This Kaiju was dark green, scaly, and looked a lot like a water monitor, with fangs like a rattlesnake. The size of it was smaller than most, and it slithered around instead of standing. It lunged at one of the lights in the stadium, and she was shaking against her intentions to remain resolved.
She supposed now was as good a time as ever to see an Ultraman transformation. Except maybe, getting too close to the creature was a bad idea. Yuuta had screamed at her for getting to the field, but he couldn’t stand in and do anything when the tail of the Kaiju knocked her off her feet and she landed on her arm roughly.
Kicking off with her feet, she kept trying to backtrack, elbows bloody and pain shooting through her shoulder. Now she was worried for her life, especially when the Kaiju slinked around the dirt and grass, getting a little too close to the catcher’s area, where she sat. Dirt coated her clothes, and she felt iced into her position.
She closed her eyes for a second, preparing for the worst.
Ultraman always saves the day in the end. The snake-like monster was curling itself around the arm of Ultraman, he shook his arm but the lizard stayed firmly in place. He flung his arm, and to her shock, the snake flew away, Kaiju genetics and formation letting it slither in the air. The Kaiju made its way to the coastline, and the harm was successfully resolved.
The audio muffling voice was just human enough to remind her to come back to her senses. The voice and of course, a huge presence kneeling in front of her would bring anyone back.
His hand was the size of her whole body, maybe even bigger.
“Do you need medical attention?” Ultraman stuck out a finger and she pulled herself off the ground by leveraging her weight and the arm that she hadn’t landed on.
“No, probably just some regular first aid.” She lifts her head up to try and make eye contact, that could be another clue.
When there’s no movement from either of them for a moment, he stutters something out yet none of the words make any sense. Fainting when she sees the Kaiju come back might have been her stupidest biological instinct.
Yuuta sits by her bedside table, snoring. Rubbing her head, she turns on the TV to see what happened after she lost total consciousness.
Ultraman had picked her up and set her somewhere safe while fighting the beast, headlines declaring another day safe because of his intervention. As much as she wants, she can’t roll her eyes.
Maybe there’s more to a superhero than meets the eye.
“Well folks we have it here, the championship game. We have the Giants pitching first and the Pumas at bat. Pitching for the Giants is an upstarter by the name of Ito Yuuta, or as the new fans like to say, the Michelangelo of pitching. And I can’t say I disagree with them, I mean his form is so natural and smooth.” The other announcer elbows his companion in the stomach, “And for the Pumas we have American Clint Wilks ready to bat.”
She sits in her seat, the same one Yuuta had reserved for her so many times before. She has her camera filming her friend, his first pitch he wanted filmed in slow motion, and then the rest he wanted normal speed. Something about wanting tons of content for the promotional manager to work with at various angles. Her phone camera wasn’t the best, but she made it work. And Yuuta had always been satisfied with the videos she sent to him.
When the batter manages to skim the edge of Yuuta’s first pitch she groans a little. The ball was recovered quickly, but Yuuta wasn’t shaken up at all. His next two pitches were seamless, going straight to the catcher in the blink of an eye. She cheers.
Disconnecting from the game for a moment, she scrolls on her phone, she may have enjoyed baseball, but it was Yuuta she only really came for. Yuuta and Kenji that is. Her other camera, her private investigation camera laid safely in her backpack. Should another Kaiju attack happen today she might need an early retirement, especially considering how the last run in had altered her.
It had been a while since she had caught Kenji Sato late at night, ignoring the speed limits with an overwhelming sense of confidence and ability. Maybe the lesson had finally set in, the fifth ticket may have been overkill.
When she hears the announcers say that Ken Sato is out of commission for this championship game due to injury, her ears burn. Now this was a quick mystery that needed to be solved. She had seen him in the pit, yelling with his teammates and jeering at the opposing team. But he hadn’t been quite all there, like his brain was in another body and a robot had filled in for him. When the announcement had been made that Kenji wasn’t going to play, he excused himself and left his team. She noticed that he had been rubbing his arm with a grimace.
The locker room would hold all the answers to her questions she supposes. Yuuta wasn’t going to pitch again for the rest of the game, already knocking out so many strikes in one game. She remembered how Yuuta had told her to get to the additional secret door to the locker room.
Getting into the locker room was easy, seeing Kenji Sato in his current state of undress was the hard part.
She couldn’t say much but let out a small squeak to disclose her presence in the room. Kenji finished pulling up his grey sweatpants, and coughed into his elbow to diffuse any sort of discomfort.
“Uh, sorry. My bad.” She tapped her forearm, keeping her arms locked into a folded position.
“It’s, um, it’s all good. Ito’s still at the diamond, I’m the only one here right now…” He trailed off.
Seeing the full expanse of his injuries across his torso and chest, she feels her heart sink. He’d come up closer to her, shutting his locker and almost circling her to study her. Initially, upon her walking in, she had seen him scrutinize the various marks across his body. His entire length of his arm was purple, almost like it had been wrapped in a rope that had been tightened too many times.
“Is your current partner an abuser?” She bluntly asks.
Kenji’s eyes open wide, “No, I’m not dating anyone right now.”
It was her turn for her eyes to go wide, in addition to extreme heat tingeing her skin and sweat starting to build up. Her assumption was that of a hired sort of company making those marks then. Surveying her reaction, Kenji knows what her best guess may have come down to.
“I also don’t make a habit of hiring escorts. Or any sort of paid companionship.” He swallows thickly. All his attempts to mitigate the tension in the room had absolutely failed. He tries another angle, “I’m glad that you care enough to ask though.”
She laughs at that.
“I guess I do care at least a little. It’d be a shame if you died by hooker, especially since I’ve spent so many hours giving you tickets in an attempt to save your life.”
They settled into their dynamic. Friends, but not quite friendly. Kenji wouldn’t call them enemies either, not when he held her too close to his heart. But her barely concealed occasional animosity did harbor some sort of anger or hate toward him that he’d just have to brush that aside while he categorized their relationship.
Their dynamic was hued by an innate sense of connection, but layers of social conditioning and abrasiveness between the two had deemed their magnetism a fluke.
Maybe that’s why he asks her to come to the baseball banquet with him despite being half naked in the middle of the locker room.
“I’ve already told Yuuta I’d go with him.” She shifts her weight between her feet, trying to remain balanced in spite of the extreme uneasiness that ran through her.
“I got him a replacement date.”
Her eyebrow raised at his slight supplication, he continued, “Ito told me he’d tell you soon. Guess I beat him to the remark.”
The awkward chuckle he lets escape makes him wish that he was anywhere but here. He’d take a monstrous Kaiju wanting to bite his head off then be faced with a rejection like this. Would it even be considered a rejection? He just asked if she wanted to be his date to the championship banquet. He chews the inside of his mouth, it would definitely be a direct rejection if she said no.
The crowd roars and tells the both of them that the banquet will in fact be for the Giants winning and not a solemn affair telling everyone to prepare for the next season.
“Okay. I had already cleared my weekend for the banquet anyway.” She wrings her hands out, twisting and playing with each of her fingers.
“Sounds great. It should be fun, you know, since we just won.”
She turns to leave the locker room, before turning on her heel.
He finishes putting his relaxed Giants jersey on, slightly stunned to see her still in the locker room.
“I’ll need your number, so you can tell me what to wear.” She pauses, unsure of what else he’d need to inform her of.
“And so I can let you know when I’ll pick you up, and where to pick you up.” He starts listing off items, using his fingers to keep track.
“Yeah, all that stuff.”
He gets her number, sending a short ‘hi it’s ken’ text. She feels the pull to exit again. But has to let one last thing off her chest.
“I’m not calling you Ken. You’ll always be Kenji to me.” He pushes down a smile, but she continues her word salad that climbs out of her mouth without much censorship. “Too many tickets written out in your full first name for me to call you anything else.”
“We’ll go with that then, Officer.”
She sticks her tongue out at him before finally trekking out of the baseball changing room.
To- Officer Cutie 💎🌟 : i’m sending you a dress, this is your size right?
ATTACHMENT: 1 Image
To- KENJI SATO 🚨🏍️: How did you know my size? Also you know I can buy my own clothes for a banquet right?
To- Officer Cutie 💎🌟: lemme do my own thing
To- KENJI SATO 🚨🏍️: fine then mr. bossy pants
To be fair, the dress really was gorgeous. Silver with red detailing, although the slit wasn’t quite an expected feature of the dress, coming up to above her mid thigh. The straps of the dress had an almost pearl beading which contrasted nicely with the deep blood shade of the red throughout the dress.
“You know, if my date saw you she’d wonder why I was going with her and not you.” Yuuta teases, because he does genuinely feel excitement for who he was going with, a reporter by the name of Ami Wakita. She does a spin for Yuuta in her phone camera.
“I don’t know all the way though, the colors remind me of something I can’t quite put a finger on.”
She can see Yuuta grabbing his phone and searching on Google due to the angle of his forehead that she was now enduring. When Yuuta laughs, she knows she might be in for some sort of practical joke from Kenji.
Yuuta sends her a photo of Ultraman.
“Damn him to hell. We’re going with an Ultraman theme.” She drags her hand down her face in irritation.
The black Mercedes-Benz he drove to pick her up in was definitely an appreciated touch. He was wearing a silver suit with a red button up underneath. At least they matched really well.
The banquet looked expensive. It smelt expensive. It sounded expensive. With draping fabrics hanging off of tall columns in the cream and gold shades of the Giants logo and uniforms. The bouquets of dense floral scents carried throughout the event center, and the fresh scent of pastries and cooked steaks also added to the aromas floating around the air. Clinking glasses, clicks of heels, laughs that sounded like they were dripping in a blend of nepotism and celebrity status.
Kenji and her are at a table with some of the older members of the Giants team. Kenji isn’t amused with the questions they pester the pair of them with. She wittily responds to each glaring comment that had intended to poke deeper and deeper.
The speeches awarding the team and celebrating the momentous win aren’t bad, just bland. Each time a server comes around with glasses of wine, or champagne, or shots, she grabs one and starts sipping. Kenji sticks to just water and some glasses of juice. He mentions that he’s the one driving so he’d rather not get black out drunk. She chuckles sarcastically.
While they don’t talk to each other too much, he does keep a hand on her thigh or knee for most of the night. Which in turn may have been the cause for her to keep getting drinks.
Eventually, as to be expected, the banquet shifts from an event of elegance into a slight rager. Music transitions from classical to club style hip hop and R&B. She keeps nodding off, much to Kenji’s amusement. He couldn’t imagine accidentally falling asleep when the noises around the building were booming and thunderous.
They sit at the table, the only ones left not on the dance floor. Kenji doesn’t mind, especially with how she keeps nodding off and blinking her eyes to try and stay awake regardless of how the alcohol weighs her cognizance down.
“Hey, pretty girl, you keep falling asleep.” Kenji rubs her back, his fingers touching the bare skin exposed from the back of her dress. His hands aren’t cold, they’re far from it, a warmth blossoms from them, springing forth a desire to feel the heat wherever she has exposed skin.
Mumbling, she says something about his observational skills, a ‘Captain Obvious’ is thrown in there somewhere along a line of insults. She keeps trying to rub the sleep away with the back of her hand.
“Ready to go?” She shakes her head yes and lets him guide her out to his car.
It really was the only solution. She was already asleep in his car, and he didn’t know which key was the one that opened her apartment door.
“MINA, can you please change the temperature of my room to 68 degrees? Keep the pillows cold, but make the blankets warmer.”
MINA adjusts the requested temperatures. Kenji lets her take his bed, opting to sleep in one of the guest rooms in the Ultrabase. He sets out a pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless sleep shirt. He puts a hand on her leg, moving it so she’d wake up a little.
“Pajamas are here, I’ll be down the hall if you need anything. I got water and some pain relievers on your side table.” She murmurs in response, her face in the pillows. He puts a lid on the water cup, and turns off the light as he shuts his bedroom door.
She hardly recalls that she changed into the comfiest pajamas she’s ever worn, but she did remember drinking the whole glass of water and swallowing the pain pills. Waking up was surprisingly pleasant though, a perfect mixture of cold and warm coated her senses. She freezes for a moment, remembering how last night had unfurled. With her embarrassing herself by drinking way too much and getting sleepy probably much earlier than Kenji had expected.
A good private investigator would study and analyze each item in a person’s bedroom. An even better private investigator would do all that and make fun of what she could. That’s why she’s considered the best in the business.
The room is relatively bland, but pictures of a pink Kaiju stand out to her. It looks like a dragon, but it’s so adorable she had to stop herself from using her phone to take a picture of the Kaiju. There’s a family photo, and oh, his dad is Professor Sato? The Kaiju whisperer? That’s intriguing to her but she keeps lurking around.
Once she examines his room enough, she leaves the room and goes out to discover further.
The smell of fresh fruit and possibly waffles draws her out further and further from the hallway of bedrooms and bathrooms.
Kenji talks to MINA, asking for help in making the waffles actually edible and not burnt. MINA offers to cook them for him, but he says he can do it and wants to make them himself. MINA rereads the instructions for the waffle maker. He’s wearing plaid bottoms and a black tank top. She admires his arms for a moment before shaking herself out of the slight daze.
She keeps looking around. Until she finds something particularly interesting, she checks that she’s still out of his line of sight and she touches a few of the buttons on what looks like a computer keyboard. Except the buttons vary in shape and size instead of being uniform and sequential.
Falling back a little from the bright holograms she gasps. Kenji whips his head around and drops a spoon that had batter all over it onto the floor.
The holograms display various scenes of Ultraman, and Kenji. Of Kenji turning into Ultraman, of Ultraman transitioning back into Kenji. Of Kenji with the pink Kaiju, of Ultraman with the pink Kaiju. Of Kenji and his dad studying the Kaiju. Of Ultraman playing baseball with a huge bat. Of Kenji messing around with various Ultraman maneuvers and martial arts styles.
She turns her head to Kenji, now exposed from her perching site away from his view. He glances his eyes in all directions. He hiccups and laughs forcefully. He can’t even say a simple, let me explain. It’s just all too clear.
“Whoops?” She offers.
He pushed a bowl of fruit in her direction, she was sitting across from him at the dining table.
“No one can know.”
She keeps blinking and eating another piece of fruit as she processes the whole thing. Almost like a fish, she keeps opening her mouth but then closing it without ever saying a word. She downs a glass of orange juice that he gives her.
“So, you’re Ultraman.”
He shrugs.
“All those times I saw you bruised and injured? Ultraman?” She rubs her temple, trying to make sense of it all.
“For most of the time, yes. I did fall off my bike once.”
“I’m going to have to quit my job.” She deadpans. “If they knew that I knew, but didn’t tell them, I’d be hunted and killed.”
Kenji drops his fork that has a slice of mango on it.
“Not literally, but I’d definitely be tortured for what I know.” Finishing off her fruit, she lets out a deep exhale, and makes eye contact with Kenji. He taps on the table for a moment before exchanging her thoughts for his own.
“I hate to admit this, but that would literally be my worst nightmare because I unfortunately like you a lot.”
She suspends all sense of reality for a moment, also ignoring his confession to her, “Kaiju Island is real?” He nods. “I want to go and see it. I want to see the Kaiju.”
So they go and see the Kaiju.
When Kenji introduces her to Emi, a toddler Kaiju, she stands stunned but amazed at the mystical energy of it all. She considers dropping her career as a private investigator and instead studying a course in Kaiju Sciences. She sees a wide variety of other Kaiju, Kenji making sure she stays a safe distance away from anything that could potentially be too dangerous.
The whole day is spent asking and answering questions. From Ultraman to Kaiju, from KDF to Tokyo Metropolitan Police. He’s aware of what the KDF knows about him now, and he’s grateful to know where to start burying tracks for them.
The beach is pretty in the evening. The way pink and orange dance along the glimmering ocean waves. The way the sun hits Kenji’s eyes just right and makes them look like a vibrant purple. His black earrings almost turn into inky ebony gems.
“This is actually amazing.” She exhales the words she’s been holding in during the entire exposure to this alternate universe that coexists with hers.
He speaks without thinking, something he believes he really should start working on, “You’re amazing.”
“Even with all my sharpness?”
“That’s your whole appeal.” He leans in, giving just enough space for her to back out.
She doesn’t lean away. He dives in.
He doesn’t bother with any brushes of their lips, going straight for an open mouth exchange. She’s the one who grazes her tongue in his mouth first though, leaving him wanting more, needing more, an appetite needing to be satiated with her touch.
He’s leaving a path of heavy kisses over her face to her neck, sucking on the skin as he licks under her jaw. The way her skin tastes should be studied he muses, using his hands to pin her to the sandy bank by her waist. Her hands were too busy fiddling with his earrings and hair to let him pin her by the hands.
The hums he has in his throat make her want to hear what other sounds he can make. Maybe biting his bottom lip was her best option after all because as soon as her teeth came into contact with the puffy skin he shudders and it’s like music to her ears.
He has to lift himself up and off her, out of breath and panting heavily. He pulls her up with him once he’s sitting back down.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time you cussed me out for almost swerving into you when I was speeding.”
She pauses, letting him intertwine his fingers with hers, he sets the joined hands on his thigh, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand in order to brush some sand off of her.
“That was a while ago.”
“Yeah, so now you know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
She pushes his shoulder that was right up against hers. He recoils, and she thinks that he might be sore from fighting a Kaiju. So she goes to apologize when he stops her before she can get any words out.
“I think I deserve an apology kiss.”
“What a faker.”
She rolls her eyes but gives him another kiss.
The headlines the following weeks put the world into a tizzy.
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR QUITS TOKYO POLICE IN A FURY
EX-TOKYO POLICE INVESTIGATOR EXPOSES KDF BRIBING GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS
KAIJU AREN’T ALL BAD: THE KDF GENOCIDE SCANDAL
KENJI SATO, WHO’S YOUR GIRL?
ITO YUUTA NAMED GIANTS VICE CAPTAIN UNDER KENJI SATO’S CAPTAINSHIP
NEW KAIJU RESEARCH AND SCIENCE RELEASED BY PROFESSOR SATO
EXCLUSIVE ULTRAMAN INTERVIEW: HE’S OBSESSED WITH KENJI SATO’S GIRLFRIEND
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 1 year ago
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Why is it always Hellva Boss earworms that make me come up with ideas?
So, during the whole Freakshow thing, it wasn't true mind control. Danny was definitely affected, but it messed with his self esteem and emotions to the point where he damaged all of his relationships and is considering running away. Freakshow, who was a little bit smarter in this, then reveals that he knows Danny's a halfa and hey, why don't you join my ghost circus while you figure some things out.
So Danny becomes a clown because he's always liked clowns, and if you've seen the new episode, you know what happens next
and over the course of a few years, Freakshow isolates Danny from his family and friends, indoctrinates him into the crime side of business, and gaslights Danny into thinking he's nothing without him. Danny loves performing, but is so beaten down that he thinks he can't leave even if that's what he wants. Danny's a famous performer at this point, even if no one knows his real identity. The other ghosts aren't really a comfort since they're mind controlled.
The Justice League, specifically Young Justice, already know that Circus Gothica is a crime ring, but have no evidence to get them arrested bc the ghosts (who they think are just metas) are too good. The leader during the thefts (Danny) is the only one they've ever been able to get close to. Maybe at some point, Tim!Robin and Danny get trapped and Danny has a panic attack for failing Freakshow? Something happens that makes Tim convinced Danny isn't a criminal willingly, but he can't convince the others.
Danny and Klarion somehow end up dating. Freakshow joins the light, probably, and the two work really well together. Klarion asks Danny out, and Danny was really reluctant since he hasn't had... anyone, in years, but they date and it's just another thing for Freakshow to hold over his head.
Eventually, Freakshow gets the inkling that Danny isn't working as hard as he should be so he puts "Greatest Clown in the World" contest, and tells Danny that all the clowns who don't win will be immediately killed.
Danny is horrified, but he can only care about himself right now, so he's working his ass off.
(Meanwhile, in Gotham, the Joker tried to join, but the Batman broke in, stole all his bones, and left him in the hospital for a few months)
So Danny's putting his all into this performance, but Young Justice finds out about the murder bit and infiltrates with, IDK, disguised Nightwing? Klarion is also there to support his man.
Danny ends up tying with Nightwing, and the tie-breaker is a three minute performance and whoever's more entertaining wins. Danny has a panic attack during Nightwing's performance and Tim and Klarion team up to talk to Danny.
Danny's convinced he will be nothing without Freakshow (literally, he might fully die), so while Klarion helps him feel better about his skills, Tim finally gets the deets about Danny's whole situation. Tim logics that Freakshow mindcontrolling this other dimensional species + Danny is half this species = Danny is being mind controlled, pissing off Klarion while Danny thinks back to what happened when Circus Gothica first came to town.
His irrational anger at family and friends, his desperate need for approval from Freakshow, how he never even considered going independent, how he thought he was immune to the mind control staff despite being half ghost.... He's pissed. He wants to quit.
So he tells Tim that YJ needs to get the staff during his performance; without it, Freakshow wouldn't be able to mind control anyone. And he goes on to give his performance.
As for that... look, 2 Minute Notice is an amazing song with amazing choreography. the only thing i would add would be a quad somersault during the trapzee part.
Danny proves himself as an amazing clown, Freakshow gets arrested since Danny is willing to testify against him, the ghosts are free, and Klarion later murders Freakshow in a cell because that's his boyfriend, you pathetic excuse of a warlock.
"Freakshow, you sad sack of shit! Fuck you!"
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yawnderu · 1 year ago
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Parenthood — Miguel O'Hara x Reader
I love putting this man in situations.
Content: You kidnap a wombat and force Miguel to play house with you.
fluff, idiots in love, mutual pining.
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"You brought a living wombat into my office." Miguel notes bluntly, staring at you dead in the eyes with an unreadable expression as his slow-moving platform lowers.
"I wanted you to see it." You retort, shooting him a playful smile as you put the heavy creature on the floor, trying not to cringe at the pain on your back from carrying it. You crouch down next to it, petting it like it was a domestic pet, and it lets you.
"You could have sent a picture." Miguel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mutters in Spanish, not knowing what to make of the situation. Why was it always up to him to handle all this nonsense? He deals with timelines and the multiverse, what the hell does he know about wombats?
"Why on earth did you think you should bring this to my office?" He asks, jumping down from the platform and staring down at you and the not-so-tiny creature, hands on his hips.
"He was so miserable at the zoo! Now he's smiling and laughing— well, not really, but you get what I mean. He looks happier." You retort, looking up at Miguel to give him a sheepish grin.
"You're telling me you kidnapped a wombat just for this?" He looks between you and the wombat, who is now chasing you around. He's... both impressed and amused now. Impressed because you actually managed to do something like that, and amused because you would do something like that.
"What's his name?" He internally punches himself for falling for the bait. He knows he should have sent you away, maybe even have you arrested for stealing a zoo animal, but... you kidnapped the animal to show it to him, and it's playing with you, looking happy. It's... kind of endearing.
"I was thinking about naming him Miguel O'Hara." You answer teasingly as you lay down on the floor of his office, allowing the wombat to climb on top of you as your hands cover your face, feeling its tiny and gentle scratches on them.
"No— that's my name." Miguel says. This is adorable in the most unhinged sort of way, and he can't help but ignore the way the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly.
"Fine, then he'll be... Miggy." You poke your tongue out at him, sitting up as the wombat stays on your lap, being surprisingly calm. You made him tired by running around and letting it chase you.
"You call me that." He answered with a raised eyebrow, glancing between the wombat and you. He can feel his brain leaking out of his ears.
"Are you too selfish to share a nickname with a wombat?" You grin up at him, enjoying teasing him, just like every single time you're together. His reactions are the best, and he's so funny without even realizing, like a grumpy cat.
Miguel simply rolls his eyes, walking over and crouching down in front of you. He stares at you dead in the eye before disengaging his suit on his hand, reaching down to gently pet the wombat. His hands easily dwarfing the head of the animal, yet he's surprisingly gentle.
"Tell you what— this is my child, I'm its mother, and you'll be the father." Yes, you're trying to play house with the damn animal and Miguel. No, Miguel will not stop you, despite the way he rolls his eyes.
"I didn't sign up for this." He replies, yet he keeps petting the animal, scratching behind its ear. This girl could probably kidnap an entire herd of these if she so pleased... and he'd probably join in on it.
"You're insane." He tells her casually, though his words lack the usual bite they carry. "Actually insane." He loves her.
"You still have a huge crush on me, though." You retort teasingly, ignoring the way he's blankly staring at you, burning a hole through your head. He's probably making your head explode in his imagination.
"I don't." Miguel is a horrible liar and he knows it, yet that doesn't mean he won't defend himself against your horrible— but true accusations.
"You totally do." Your smug tone only makes things worse, forcing Miguel to try his best not to roll his eyes so far he could see his own brain. He simply sighs, ignoring you as he starts petting the wombat's tummy.
"Don't speak when I'm petting the baby. Cállate." It seems Miguel is getting a chance at parenthood with you, even when the "baby" is a 30kg marsupial. The thought of it makes the corners of his mouth slightly tilt up, looking down at the animal to hide it, yet you can still see it. The image of it puts a smile on your own face, yet this time, you keep quiet about it.
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literaryavenger · 11 months ago
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Black Panther - Post Credit Scene
Summary: Bucky comes out of the ice.
Pairing: Avengers x F!Reader, Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Warnings: Nothing really for this one, maybe language. Mostly fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 1.8K
A/N: I want to specify that I used google translator for the Xhosa, so I hope it's at least decent, but I thought it would be cute to put it in there. I've had this ready to go for WEEKS and I'm so glad I finally get to post it! I hope you like the idea of a reunion like this as much as I do! Enjoy!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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You’ve been on the run for a year now with Steve, Sam and Natasha. A few weeks after you all escaped the Raft, Clint and Scott decided to make a deal with Ross to get house arrest because being on the run and away from their families was too hard for them.
The five of you that remained went from safe house to safe house while doing as many missions as you could, never staying in one place too long and still trying to help people to the best of your capabilities, with Wanda disappearing from time to time to spend time with Vision.
Lately, though, you’ve been noticing Steve’s been a little fidgety, even disappearing here and there for a couple of days at a time.
You want to ask him what’s going on, but you don’t want to be nosy so you wait for if and when he’s ready to talk about it.
And that time comes one random afternoon as you’re all sitting around in the living room of the safe house you’re in, Wanda being off with Vision.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” He sits next to you and you nod, putting down your book to give him your full attention. “I know you’ve all been wondering where I go every now and then, and I’m glad you didn’t push it. But I’m ready for you guys to know now.”
He addresses everybody before turning to you and looking straight in your eyes as he finishes. “Bucky’s awake.”
Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t seem to find it in you to say anything more than “Oh.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner...” He looks actually sorry. “We just thought it would’ve been better to keep it as lowkey as possible.”
You nod and look at the floor, trying not to show your disappointment.
It makes sense. After all Steve is his best friend, his brother, his only family. You’re barely an acquaintance.
Right? 
“He asked about you.” your eyes snap back to him. “He wanted you to be there, but he understood. He’s glad you’re safe.”
“From the government or from him?” you mumble and Steve gives you an apologetic look, but lets it go.
“The thing is, I kind of need to ask you a favor.” you narrow your eyes at him and he raised his hands in surrender. “It’s nothing bad, I swear!”
“Fine,” you sigh. “What do you want?”
“It’s just, the mission we’ve been planning is important…” he looks at the plans and footprints on the table. “And only three of us are needed for it.”
You think you see where this is going. “You want me to take over your part of the mission?!” you look at him like he grew three heads. How the hell can you take on the role of a supersoldier?
“No, of course not. That’s the thing.” he quickly clarifies. “I can’t be spared for this, and we know the mission is gonna last a while.”
“Where are you going with this, Rogers?” you’re just confused now.
“Could you look after Bucky for me?”
Oh. You try hard not to look too excited about the prospect of seeing Bucky again and spending time with him.
“Are you… sure that’s a good idea?” you ask him as coolly as you can.
“It’s not gonna be hard. You just need to keep an eye on him from a distance.” good thing you managed your expectations. “Shuri’s gonna be working with him and, when he’s ready, she’ll let you talk to him.” Okay, you’re excited again.
“Uhm,” you have to at least pretend to think about it, right? “I guess, if I’m not needed on the mission and you are, I could do you this favor.”
You fight a smile as you make the mistake to look at Sam, that’s grinning, knowing full well how you feel about Bucky. You groan and roll your eyes, but he says nothing, thankfully.
“Thank you.” Steve lays a hand on your arm and smiles at you. “This means a lot to me.”
“I know.” you smile back, then hug him.
“Okay,” he says as you let go “we’re leaving tomorrow morning.”
You nod and get up to finish packing the bag you were getting ready for the mission in a few days.
After you’re done, you go back to the living room to spend one last night with Sam, Steve and Nat as you don’t know how long it’s gonna be before you see them again.
The next morning you wake up thankful you’re not hungover and get your stuff with Steve’s into the jet, Sam and Nat accompanying you out to say the last goodbyes.
“I’ll miss you.” you tell Nat as you hug her “Please don’t cut your hair again while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try not to.” she laughs, hugging you back. “I’ll miss you too, Crazy.”
“Try not to miss me too much.” Sam tells you as he hugs you too, making you roll your eyes with a smile.
“Sure, birdbrain.” He groans at the nickname “Be careful.”
He nods and, after they say goodbye to Steve too, the two of you board the quinjet and make your way to Wakanda.
You are met by Princess Shuri and King T’Challa himself. You hug Steve goodbye as he makes his way to visit Bucky before his mission and to tell him he probably won’t be coming by again for a while. 
Shuri and T’Challa, who insisted you drop their formal titles, give you a tour of the palace and then take you to a guest room that’s basically a suite, and you’re shocked to find out you’ll be living here in the palace for the duration of your stay.
As promised you look after Bucky from a distance.
Every morning you and Shuri get escorted to Bucky’s hut where she works with him on his deprogramming as you and Ayo hang back.
Other than making sure he’s okay, there’s not really much for you to do so you take this time to get to know the people. It astonishes you how easy you get welcomed by the community.
You’re taught their customs by the locals, you pick up some Xhosa, not a lot but enough to have conversations and you’re even taught to fight by the Dora Milaje. Mostly Okoye and even Ayo since the two of you cleared the air after the whole airport fight.
She apologized profusely about the wound she inflicted in your arm, which has been fully healed for months now, and you assured her it was okay. You understood she was simply doing her job and admired her passion and determination to protect her king. 
Also, it turns out you broke a couple of her ribs, which you also apologized for, so you two decided to just call it even.
You got comfortable fast; dressing with their clothes, participating in their festivities and playing around with the children everyday as Shuri does whatever she does with Bucky.
You’re always careful to not get too close to be seen while still being close enough to keep an eye on them.
After their sessions Shuri always brings you up to speed and then you report to Steve to let him know Bucky’s doing good.
You’re making your way to Shuri’s lab where you’ve met her everyday for the couple of months that you’ve been in Wakanda.
“Good morning, Princess.” you tell her, bowing when you stop in front of T’Challa. “My King.”
“Stop that.” he swats at you as both you and Shuri laugh.
“Ready to go?” Ayo asks and you eye her suspiciously as she’s grinning like she does right before she makes a move that instantly knocks you on your ass during training.
“What are you up to?” you ask her but she just keeps on smiling.
“Today is the day, Agent.” Shuri tells you as smirks, knowing how you feel about the nickname.
“I’m not an agent of anything.” you roll your eyes, then register what she just said. “Wait, what do you mean, today’s the day?”
“Sergeant Barnes is ready.” she says and you can’t help the smile that comes to your face, which falls with a groan when you see them all smirking at each other at your reaction.
“Let’s just go.” you say as you turn around and start walking with Shuri and Ayo.
“Have fun!” T’Challa yells after you.
“Your order is my command, Your Highness!” you yell back and you all laugh at the loud groan he lets out.
As always, Shuri gets closer while you and Ayo hang back and she walks to the shore of the lake in front of the hut and then stops there.
You see three kids run out of Bucky’s hut, laughing, and the princess turns around as they run up to her and hug her.
“Are you playing around with that man again?” she asks, laughing. “You’re teasing him again.” she keeps teasing them as they chant ‘no’ between laughter and you can’t help but smile.
Bucky exits the hut and, like every other day, he takes your breath away. His sun-kissed skin, his Wakandan robes, his growing beard and the longer hair. The whole style just suits him.
You see him take a deep breath and then he gets closer to Shuri as the children run towards you giggling about the “Ingcuka Emhlophe”. [White Wolf]
“Uyayithanda Ingcuka Emhlophe?” you ask them. [You like the White Wolf?]
“Yena engaqhelekanga” one of the kids says and you laugh. [He’s strange]
“Kutheni ephulukene nengalo nje?” another one asks you. [Why is he missing an arm?]
You aren’t sure what to say, they are children after all, but you try your best.
“Kuba uyindoda ekhaliphileyo eyathi yenzakala xa inceda abantu.” [Because he is a brave man that was injured while helping people]
They all look at him in awe just as you hear Shuri say, “Sergeant Barnes.”
“Bucky.” he corrects her and you smile.
“How are you feeling today?” she asks him.
“Good. Thank you.” she smiles and motions towards you.
“Come. Much more for you to learn.” she says as she starts walking.
He takes a second to look out at the lake before following Shuri, but as soon as he spots you, he stops.
He stares as you’re giggling with the children that are now circling around you and dancing, and when you look towards Bucky again his eyes are already on you.
You blush a little at his intense gaze but he seems to snap out of it when your eyes meet his and he gets closer until he’s right in front of you.
“Sergeant.” you say, smirking.
“Doll.” he says, smirking back.
You smile at each other until Shuri clears her throat and you turn to look at her just to see both her and Ayo with a smirk of their own. You roll your eyes at them, but your smile stays on.
“Shall we?” Shuri says and starts walking, Ayo right behind her.
Bucky takes your hand and starts walking after Shuri too, pulling you with him, both of you feeling like nothing could wipe the smiles off your faces.
Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham @mary-jinx @abbyyourlocalmilf @selcouthial @esposadomd @americaarse @multiversefanfics
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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 4 months ago
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Honey-Do
You swore if you scrubbed anymore, you were sure the paint would come off as you took a step back from your car to admire just how sparkly clean you made it.
Ever since Vance let you know that Jethro was arrested for assault and being kept at the Navy jails, you did what you could to cope, which included cleaning, fixing, and rearranging just about everything in the house, with the exception of the basement of course. You decided to take some "time off" to be there for Jethro.
After he came home with his new furry friend and Vance officially suspended him, the both of you have had quite a bit of time together which was quite nice in the beginning but there was only so much the two of you could do in a day. The both of you were so use to being workaholics, it almost felt weird to spend practically every hour of the day together.
This morning Jethro left to pick up some boat part and most likely get breakfast at the diner in order to stretch out the hours of being occupied. You had already went for a 2 mile run, planted some tomatoes in the back garden and bought Lucy a cute new sweater that looked much better than her bandages.
After putting all of the car cleaning supplies away, you headed inside to take a shower and make a little something to eat.
As you and Lucy shared some eggs and bacon at the dining room table, you heard Jethro come through the front door, holding a hunk of metal and cup of coffee.
Lucy's tail gave a wag as he came over, stealing a piece of bacon and giving you a peck on the lips.
"Car looks clean," he complimented as you smiled.
"Just finished. Maybe I can clean your truck up too today. Lord knows it's in need of some TLC."
He went to fill his cup of coffee, stopping to look at the long list of things to do around the house, that was stuck to the fridge, each one crossed out or checked off.
"I thought we said we would do these things equally?"
"Well you've been gone all morning and I...might've gotten bored."
He let out a sigh that told you he was feeling some type of way.
"Well now what am I suppose to do?"
"Well you got a new piece for the boat, why not work on that?"
"Because I'm still waiting on the other material to come back in stock. There was a lot of things on this list, honey, you could've at least saved me one thing."
You didn't really know what to say as he filled him coffee and silently left for the basement, taking Lucy with him.
"Little traitor," you mumbled towards the grey pittie.
For the next few minutes, you just sat there, appetite now gone, thinking about what Jethro said. You could understand why he was frustrated. Just like you, he needed to do things to keep him occupied, to keep his thoughts from consuming him whenever he got a spare moment of time to relax, especially now that he was suspended.
Knowing you should make it up to him, you emptied your leftovers into Lucy's bowl and washed your dishes before grabbing the to-do list and starting a new one. You'd be lying if you said you didn't purposefully make some of the tasks available, such as putting a nice size scratch in the floor, taking one of the screws from the table chair and throwing it out, and even deflating one of your tires just a little so that it was noticeable.
Once all of that was done and the list was newly made, you headed down into the basement, seeing Jethro in his mechanic jumpsuit, working on the engine. His face was hard, focusing on whatever it was he was doing as Lucy lied down on the big comforter beside him.
"Sweetheart," you started, getting him to take a second to stop and look at you. "I'm sorry about the list, I know how much you need the tasks and I didn't think about that."
A couple seconds went by as he stared at you before a small smile graced his lips, pulling you over to sit on his lap, letting the wrench sit atop of the engine block.
"You don't need to apologize for anything. I shouldn't have gotten frustrated."
He pressed a kiss to the side of your head as you pulled the piece of paper out.
"Well as a piece offering, I've made a new list for you. With tasks that I know only you can get done."
He read the paper out loud, chuckling a little when he reached the make Lucy a dog house part and held you a little tighter in his arms.
"The deflated tire is definitely a big deal, I'll have to start with that one," he said, a look of excitement twinkling in his eye, happy that he had newfound projects.
Smiling at him, you leaned in for a makeup kiss, even though you wouldn't even really consider the whole event as a "fight".
"You know. There are other ways we can keep busy that doesn't include home improvement and boat parts," you hinted, pulling back and giving him a look.
"Oh yeah? Like what?" He knew exactly what you meant by the spark of mischief you saw in his eyes. Standing up, you took his hand and led him away from the dirty boat parts, as he followed willingly.
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ceilidho · 1 year ago
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1800s mail order bride [price/reader] for da wip game
i haven't yet gotten around to writing more of this fic (it's listed as complete on ao3 because i feel like it leaves off at a good place so if i never get back around to it, im fine with that, but the door is still open enough for me to return.
without having given this too much thought, this is what i would probably write if i were to make this into a proper fic (huge spoilers below because i'm basically outlining the entire plot):
after the scene in the sheriff's office, Price whisks you off to the local judge to be wed; this is where you come back to yourself and start protesting and denying that you're the girl he's waiting for
Price then says something about how "if you're not her, then who are you?" and brutally interrogates you about your identity (he thinks you're lying and he's just trying to make the truth come out) but you're still too nervous to say anything about who you are and where you're from because, remember, you just left a city where you killed someone. you have no idea how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. at one point you make up a lie about being "elizabeth smith from Rhode Island" and he challenges that by saying "we'll contact your kin then and have them confirm" (essentially saying you're under house arrest with him / in the town until someone related to "elizabeth smith" telegrams from R.I. or sends a letter)
you never actually give in and just go "fine, i'm the woman you've been corresponding with" but Price sees all these holes in your story as evidence that you are her and he's convinced that "your guilty heart brought you here to me anyway." There's basically nothing you can do to avoid being married off to him.
you're basically shell shocked the entire time at the court house and then on the trip back to the inn to collect your belongings to bring to Price's house.
the first night at his place is rough. you're basically like a feral cat the whole time - still insisting that he's got the wrong woman, indignant and furious when he thinks he has the right to put his hands on you and touch you (Price just lifts his brow at that because like...you are his wife now so really it's a moot point), and locking yourself in his bedroom the second the two of you are home.
Price finds all of this very amusing. he has stuff to do around the property anyway, so he lets you lock yourself in the room for a couple hours.
eventually he does just unlock the door with a key he has on top of the doorframe (you thought you were safe in there but oops nope). there's some conversation about "wifely duties" that has you screaming and spitting at him before he threatens to put you over his knee again, so you clam up and get a bit teary, which makes Price soften. (good excuse for me to write a soft but firm version of Price shushing you and drawing you into his embrace)
anyway, the middle of this story would be all slow, tender sex and you having to get used to being Price's wife while always keeping one eye out for any news of there being a warrant out for your arrest. you get spooked once by a man in town asking about any newcomers (maybe you're in a shop and you overhear him ask the cashier while you're behind a shelf) and try to flee, but Price tracks you down and he's sooooo mad when the two of you get home. like sex is rough that night.
events i'd want to have happen:
someone comes sniffing around town for you (bounty hunter maybe) and you try running away (unsuccessful, but you're mildly reassured when you hear the man has left town by the next day because everyone thinks of you as Price's wife so no one thinks to mention that a woman arrived in town the other week)
there's an incident on a farm on the outskirts of town that Price has to go to - he makes you promise to be good and you spend the next two days wrestling with whether to take the opportunity to leave or not. you end up staying. Price comes back and he's so happy to see his little wife still home after a few rough days of work. probably the first time he makes you sit on his face to reward you.
your luck finally comes to an end when the same bounty hunter finally comes back (your marriage announcement may have been in the local paper and somehow word got to him about a girl matching the description of the woman he's after) and somehow manages to trap you. the climax of this fic is that he manages to get you on a horse speeding away from town and you're heartbroken/terrified/desperate for John but your situation seems hopeless)
John catches up with the two of you and he, uh....deals with the bounty hunter that took his wife from him. before he "deals" with him, the bounty hunter does basically reveal who you actually are, and there's a moment where you see that John believes him. he looks at you in a strange way for just a second and there's this glint in his eye that says "yeah I either suspected this or this is new information to me but now everything makes sense" and your heart just stops because it's the first time where you actually don't want him to know that you aren't the woman that was supposed to be his wife
then he kills the bounty hunter and takes you home :) and he never ever acknowledges what the other man said. because you're his wife and that's all that matters.
suuupppperrrr tender loving sex that night LMAO probably out in wilderness because you're far outside of town and the two of you are exhausted (plus, John just buried this man's body so you had to diverge from the route home for a bit)
at some point in time, a woman does show up at your doorstep claiming to be John's wife. you slam the door on her face.
ok now i wanna write this again FUCKDJGHSJGVSD
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