#im trying to help her just over a voice call but she is not very descriptive with whats going on when i tell her to click something
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corntired · 7 months ago
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Im absolutely horrified at how little my mom knows about operating computers
She theoretically uses her computer every day, or at least every other day
But apparently she doesnt know how to move files to a new location, how to delete files, any sort of thing like that
How. I cannot comprehend it. Computers have existed for so long, and she has had one for years.
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princesssmars · 29 days ago
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so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?
modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.
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she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.
she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.
at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.
but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.
she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...
and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.
"vi? are you alright?"
loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.
"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."
"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"
and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.
"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."
"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"
you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.
"you know i miss you, right?"
she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"
"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."
she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.
"wish i could've been there with you, baby."
"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."
her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"
"yeah. missed your hands, too."
fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.
"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"
"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"
she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.
the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.
"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."
so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.
and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.
it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.
she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.
after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.
vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.
but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.
everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.
she has got to get out of the house.
jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.
it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.
as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.
the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.
but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.
even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.
but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.
her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.
“hey, violet. how’s your day?”
“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”
your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”
“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”
“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”
“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”
“do you want me to send you the address?”
vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.
tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.
the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.
if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-
“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.
as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.
it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.
it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.
in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.
“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.
“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.
“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.
“god, please stop talking-”
whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.
you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.
she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.
and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.
you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.
“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”
she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”
“absolutely.”
“fine, you were right. are you happy?”
“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”
maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.
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maplesyrupsainz · 3 months ago
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙dont call me kid | CL16˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: ex!charles leclerc x singer!reader y/n (she/her) (also some subtle lando norris x reader bc i cant help myself)
genre: social media au
warnings: angst!! sorry charles is the bad guy lol
summary: in which a very illicit affair finally gets out and you face the backlash
a/n: obsessed with this request ahhhh i need to write more angst!!!! also yea okay IM BACK IM BACK
request!!!: singer!reader and charles date but he kept it private so no one knew which is why they break up and like the fall out when ppl find out abt it online <3 maybe her healing and him regretting it? or like her moving on with someone else
my masterlist
fc: holly humberstone
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twitter ->
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messages ->
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instagram ->
f1gossip
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liked by user3, user17, user44, and others
f1gossip charles leclerc seen out shopping today with girlfriend alexandra saint mleux
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user6 what hahaha
user7 so y/n must've been a while ago right??
user8 crickets from y/n
user9 they're so cute together y/n is deffo trying to split them up or something
user10 this whole situation is weird imo
user11 right like im confused and dont think y/n is the villain??
user12 be fr charles fumbled y/n.
user13 okay 😂
user14 sureeeee
user15 yuppp y/n defenders rise fr!!
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, and others
charles_leclerc the good life ☀️
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user16 omgg charles & alex are so cute together
user17 omgg such gorgeous pics
user18 dont know who im more jealous of
carlossainz55 looking good 🏝️
charles_leclerc who, me or the beach?
carlossainz55 no comment
user19 charlos you will always be famous
user20 alex is the best wag <3
user21 ahh a leo leclerc cameo we love to see it
alexandrasaintmleux i love summers with you 🫶
charles_leclerc it is an honour to be in your company
user22 STOPPPP
user23 me whennn omg
user24 downgrade from y/n lol.
*comment deleted by charles_leclerc*
user25 justice for y/n much 🙄
*comment deleted by charles_leclerc*
user26 wait is he deleting comments about **
yourusername 📍 london
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yourusername back home ❤️
tagged: yourbff
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yourbff love you
yourusername love you
user27 is this charles’ attention seeking fling 💀
user28 geez & she thought she could compete with alex
user29 ikr she's the wrong vibe fr
user30 emo vibes
user31 here u go here's ur clout 💀
user32 music sucks too
user33 lando in the likes? her nxt target bro
user34 bffr even he doesnt want her
user35 wtf is this comment section
user36 why so much hate???
*comments on this post have now been limited*
twitter ->
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messages ->
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instagram ->
ynupdates
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liked by user11, landonorris, yourbff, and others
ynupdates y/n spotted in a parking lot talking on a phone call this afternoon!! the first sighting of her in over three months ❤️
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user43 OH MY GOD FINALLY
user44 ew stay hidden
user45 girl get off a y/n fan page then 💀
user46 omg she looks happy or is it just me???
user47 i hope she's healing🥹🥹
user48 our girl is back omg
user49 A CAR PARK?! HAHAHA
user50 she real for dat
user51 y/n we miss you 😭
user52 COME BACK Y/N
user53 okay wait why is no one talking about lando norris in the likes
user54 this is so atrociously random.
user55 maybe he's a fan🥹
yourusername posted a story
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user56 OH MY GOD
user57 FINALLY
user58 new music please im praying
user59 Y/N WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH
ynupdates omg finally. war is over
gracieabrams so effing glad ur back.
yourusername dont you know it
phoebebridgers thank god, my queen is back
yourusername for good!!
billieeilish im locked tf in
liked by yourusername
charles_leclerc glad you're back y/n!
landonorris cant wait for the world to hear your voice
yourusername thank u lando 🥹🥹
landonorris of course. always thinking of you!
yourusername means so much xx
user60 im healed.
yourusername
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yourusername you'll be flushed when you return ❤️ hi guys :) sorry that it's been a while... here's a lil peak into what i've been up to. my new song ‘illicit affairs’ is yours now.
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user61 oh my god
user62 WHAT STARTED IN BEAUTIFUL ROOMS ENDS IN MEETINGS IN PARKING LOTS???
user63 the way literally all the leaked pics of y/n with charles were in cars too...
user64 omg the song is so so heartbreaking... fym it dies & it dies & it dies ?!?!?
user65 OKAY BUT WHAT ABOUT THEY LIE AND THEY LIE AND THEY LIE
user66 A MIIIIILION LITTLE TIMES
user67 omg what did that man do to my girl
user68 such a beautifully heartbreaking song
user69 u showed me colours u know i cant see with anyone else:(
user70 u taught me a secret language i can't speak with anyone else:(
user71 okay but the lyrics look at this idiotic fool that u made me & for u i would ruin myself a million little times are so so heartbreaking like she fr got bullied off the internet over this secret relationship bro
user72 alex in the likes? lando in the last pic? is my girl winning in every category rn
user73 karma
landonorris such a beautiful song
yourusername tysm i rly appreciate u listening 🥹
landonorris 🧡
user74 now kiss
oscarpiastri amazing song y/n!
yourusername thanks osc <3
carlossainz55 as always such a lovely song. you're a rare talent y/n!
yourusername 🥹🫶
messages ->
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f1wagupdates
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f1wagupdates charles leclerc's wag alexandra saint mleux was seen last night leaving a restaurant alongside singer songwriter y/n y/l/n, who was recently connected to leclerc as having had a secret romantic fling together. what do you think is going on here?
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user75 oh my god
user76 WHAT???
user77 shit's about to get crazy 💀
user78 WHAT DID HE DO
user79 lando in the likes???
user80 y/n's biggest fan lol
user81 he's so real
user82 wtf are they talking about bro
user83 y/n stealing charles' new gf she's real
user84 im on board with this new friendship
user85 someone spill the tea RIGHT NOW im desperate oh my god
ynupdates
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ynupdates y/n seen out last night in PARIS with lando norris. don't know what to think. head = empty.
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user86 what
user87 what
user88 WHAT?
user89 why is half the grid and their wags in the likes
user90 hello?
user91 what's happening
user92 IM SO CONFUSED Y/N PLEASE SPEAK PLEASE
user93 they're just friends, right?
user94 😂 yeah.
user95 charles found dead
user96 girl i need answers im foaming at the mouth
ynupdates you and me both
user97 FREE USSSSS
user98 so much has happened the past few months but im just even more confused than ever
liked by yourusername
user99 WHY DID SHE LIKE THIS
user100 @.yourusername you lurker
messages ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, and others
yourusername look at this godforsaken mess that you made me 😊😊😊
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lilyzneimer 🧡
liked by yourusername
user101 HELLOOO??!?!!
mclaren good sweater choice!
landonorris i second this
oscarpiastri i third it
yourusername 😭😭
user102 what's going onnn
user103 new mclaren wag jus droppeddd
liked by landonorris
user104 i feel like this is confirmation that charles and alex are over.....
liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux
user105 THEM LIKINGGG
user106 not the comment section lurking i cant cope
alexandrasaintmleux most beautiful mess in the world
yourusername oh, you 🥹
user107 she's real for this....
user108 charles is crying i think
user109 SHE WONNNNN
user110 need answers but im happy she's happy
user111 we've learned patience 🙏
user112 fanbase growth 🧡
yourusername love u
user113 Y/N!!!?!:!:!:!:!/!:!/:£:&;£;
landonorris 🧡
yourusername 🧡🧡
landonorris 🧡🧡🧡
user114 SHUT UP LMAOOOOO
THE END ❤️🧡
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hexhomos · 3 months ago
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little random but i really appreciate your dissections and analysis of Mel mainly bc the fandom either adore her and won't admit she is a flawed character and get over defensive when you call her out, or straight up hate her and make her out to be completely evil.
Mel is written as morally grey for a reason and when ppl try to act like she was morally correct in everything she did, it goes against the whole plot. yes, she regrets most of her actions by the end of the series and is left to deal with her family's leagacy and the weight of her actions, but that doesn't undo anything she did. and her eventually starting to care about Jayce doesn't just cancel out that she manipulated him (you'd think this would be obvious)
what bothers me the most i think is meljay shippers who say Jayce mistreated her and that Mel only ever helped and care about him and aided him in rising to power politically, and how she was so understanding of Jayce's and Viktor's friendship. yes, encouraging methods of political corruption in order to gain more power is so caring and kind of her! ❤️
Mel might've told Jayce to go spend time with Viktor after finding out he was ill, but the one time in the show she interacted with Viktor was... prejudiced to say the least. she never directly spoke to or answered Viktor, and the expression on her face any time she looked over at Viktor was so clearly full of dislike. it shocks me ppl still believe Mel and Viktor could get along and respect one another, especially romantically. no way.
anyways, sorry for the rant. just tired of how many bad takes there are in this fandom and very fond of your account lol
you are right and you SHOULD say it re: that oft repeated argument about her "only wanting what's best for him" bothers me so much. Its just... weirdly patronizing and spousing pro-piltover nationalism every time i see it being brought up. "She's doing what anyone would do/what is best for the city!" IDK MAN I AM NOT ROCKING WITH THAT. Im not an ubercapitalist. I don't think any of that was the good option actually lol. Probably I hate piltover too much to humor these arguments but from day 1 we are shown this is a city of immense class inequality in which the elite few holds all the power and all the profit gains at the cost of everyone else's submission and humanity. (Not for nothing: these are also the classic old guard Noxian tenets of supremacy. That's how they do colonization.)
The interactions Mel has with Jayce for majority of the series, before she watches that bomb come in and has her rapid onset change of heart, are her talking about how investors want his work and how she can use his discovery to advance this city (which is already built on exploitation!) or instigating his rise to power as a new ringleader for the council's rigged mercantile operations, and this is just not good or heroic in any way to me. This isn't love either, it's industrial convenience. The fact that she's conflicted by the end doesn't cancel these actions out! Jayce realizes that he's been used in ways he strongly disagrees with and any the affection in that dynamic vanishes instantly. The time he spends in isolation replaying his mistakes in that cave has an emphasis on mel/heimerdinger's voice on the council too, all of his regrets with blindly following someone else's vision or disappointing an idol he held in high regards.
And Jayce DOES care about the state of the cities, or he did before the writers forgot: He's the one who pleads for Zaun's independence at the end of season 1! He's the one who spent all his life trying to work towards improving the lives of common people, giving them the miracles they've been denied!
Viktor is a fucking nobody. He is extremely worthless in the eyes of the piltovan upper crust, only kept around on the merits working with Jayce have afforded him; and they still don't care. They're probably hoping he dies quicker. We *SEE* him being singled out and alienated during that weapons discussion where Mel is pleading for Jayce to think about "protecting his people" (only piltovans, never, ever zaunites- protecting piltovans against the zaunite menace.) and Viktor is set off at that whole exchange because it doesn't matter how loud he screams, these people can just tune him off and pretend he doesn't exist anyway. It's what they're used to doing. It drives me insane!!!!! His indignation is extremely under-explored and very inline with his act1 speech of feeling like an undesirable presence in piltover and having to push through with the grit of his teeth. It's open faced classism and I still see people pretending it didn't happen. Fandom makes all of these characters FAR less interesting by defanging them. The heart is in the friction and in the ugliness of them fucking up because they have very, very different conceptions of "utopia" - and some of those utopias require the death of the other characters present.
A lot of the Arcane character arcs have to do with realizing the above, and weighing if the sacrifice is worth the risk. Sometimes it turns out their utopias were shit.
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playnextdoor · 2 months ago
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im sick
summary: vi helps you when your sick
cw: mentions and descriptions of throw/throwing up for my emetophobes, mentions of food that caused said sickeness lol, domestic (?) vi, she is very sweet yay, this is very short
You jolt awake, drenched in sweat, the taste of bile pooling in your mouth. For a moment, everything feels blurry until the sudden urgency hits you. You barely notice Vi sprawled out beside you as you clumsily crawl over her and bolt for the bathroom. The commotion stirs her instantly.
“Hey—wait, what’s wrong?” she calls out groggily, already moving to follow you.
By the time she reaches the bathroom, you’re hunched over the toilet, your hands gripping the porcelain as your body convulses. The sound of you retching echoes off the tiles.
“Shit,” Vi mutters, panic lacing her voice as she turns and rushes out of the room. She’s back in seconds with a towel and a glass of water, setting them on the counter before kneeling beside you. Her calloused hands are gentle as they push stray hairs away from your damp face. “Let it out, babe,” she murmurs, her other hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “You’re okay. Just let it out.”
Your body heaves one last time before the sickness leaves. Gasping for air, you shakily reach for her hand. She’s already there, steady and solid, helping you stand. Without a word, she dampens the towel and gently wipes your face, her touch so careful.
“I think it was that burger we had earlier,” you croak, wincing as you rinse your mouth out at the sink.
Vi watches you closely, her brows furrowed with concern. “Yeah… probably. You’ve been off all day.” Her voice is quieter now, as though speaking too loud might overwhelm you.
You stare into the mirror, water dripping down your face. Tiny red dots bloom under your eyes, blood vessels burst from the force of throwing up, a grim reminder of how your body puts so much force in this thing you would avoid any day.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with this,” you whisper, voice shaky.
She shakes her head, stepping closer. “Don’t apologize. Drink some water.” Her hand cups your damp face as she raises the glass to your lips, her thumb brushing over the faint red freckles on your cheek. She watches you drink slowly, watches you wince as the bitter aftertaste of bile fades under the coolness of the water.
“I know you hate throwing up,” she says softly, her eyes never leaving yours.
You nod, managing a weak smile before your stomach churns again. “Too soon,” you mutter, and before you can stop yourself, you’re back at the toilet.
Vi is there in an instant, one arm wrapping around you to keep you steady as the other supports your weight. “it’s okay,” she whispers, even as your body shakes violently. “I got you.”
When it’s finally over, you slump against her, tears and snot streaking down your face. You’re a mess, and you know it. You hate when she sees you like this.
“I should’ve warned you…” you mumble through ragged breaths.
“Hey, stop that,” she cuts in, her voice firm but kind. She helps you to your feet again, guiding you back to the sink to rinse your mouth before coaxing more water down your throat. This time, she waits, watching you carefully to make sure you’re not about to hurl again.
When you finally make it back to bed, you collapse into the sheets, still trembling. “Stay with me,” you whisper, the words soft and desperate.
She grins, trying to lighten the mood. “Like I’d go anywhere.”
Before you can reply, she’s yanking the thick blanket from beneath you and tucking it snugly around your body, cocooning you in a makeshift burrito. Your head and feet poke out from the folds, and you pout up at her as she adjusts the edges.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she teases, pulling out a warm compress and placing it gently on your forehead. “You need to rest.”
“But I want to kiss you,” you whisper, your lips curling into a weak pout.
Vi smirks, leaning in close, her breath brushing against your cheek. “You’re cute, but also gross. I don’t need whatever you have.”
You groan, turning your head away, trapped in your blanket prison as she crawls into bed beside you. Her messy pink hair spills across the pillow, and the sight of her, so effortlessly beautiful even now, makes your chest ache.
“I’m sorry…” you murmur again, your voice soft as you glance at her.
She chuckles, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose. “No more burgers,” she whispers, settling in beside you and pulling the blanket tighter around you.
“No more burgers,” you agree, letting your eyes flutter shut as her warmth seeps into you.
a/n: i wrote this to help me cope that i have no one taking care of while i threw up my insides last night. yeah.
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letorip · 3 months ago
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helping tara through an asthma attack?
nothing’s gonna hurt you baby
“as long as you’re with me, you’ll be just fine”
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pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: after tara’s date ghosts her at a party and tara forgets her inhaler, you help her through her asthma, and in the process reveal how much you really care for each other
warnings: angst at first but quickly turns to fluff, mentions of asthma, small medical crisis, confessions and kissing, for the most part, fluff
word count: 2.8k
A/N: a very adorable and small oneshot i got to write! thank you for the request, it was greatly appreciated and im sorry i only got to finish it now! i cut down a lot for time's sake but i did get it done, so sorry iff it's shorter, i left more irrelevant bits out
*also, i am english and know little to nothing about new york, but i did my best
===+++===
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===+++===
She wasn’t doing a thing that you could see except sitting there on the stairs, leaning on the bannister, holding the universe together.
Parties were many things, but you had never considered them beautiful. Tara Carpenter was what made them beautiful. Grabbing you tightly by the hand and tugging you onto the dance floor despite your protests, brushing the hair from your clammy forehead when you had too much to drink, and, even now, frowning at the bottom of the staircase. That was beautiful. It was so beautiful that calling it a crush didn’t feel like enough.
She doesn’t see you until you clear your throat from the other end of the foyer, leaning on the doorframe. It’s almost empty, most people squeezing into the kitchen and living room on the other side of the house, and you can hear Jump Around muffled through the walls.
“Looking for me?” she asks, a grin forming. It’s infectious, but Tara’s an infectious person: anything she does, she makes you want to do it too.
You smile back. “Always,” you nod, shoving your hands into your pockets and crossing the room to set yourself down next to her. Neither of you say anything for a minute, watching the few people go by, Tara picking at her nail polish and fiddling with her cup.
"Is this (Y/n)-code for wanting to leave?” Tara says after a while, nudging you gently with her knee. You shrug. You’d do the right thing always when it came to Tara. No matter how much fun you had been having, her frown came first, and you’d be damned if you didn’t try to lift it. Staying at the party longer would only keep reminding her how she had been let down again.
“It is getting kind of late," you murmur. She scoffs, shifting away from the railing and resting her head on your shoulder, nuzzling herself into your neck.
"It's only 12.” You can feel the vibrations of her voice against your body, warm and human. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you leave while the party’s still young?”
“A kind one,” you snort. “I’ve got a bed calling my name.”
She hums, pretending to think on it for a second, and then nods. “Five more minutes.”
You say okay and sit back in silence, letting the background music wash over you both. The clinking of bottles and laughter from the other room is loud, but mostly, you can hear her breathing against you, slow.
Tara lifts her head from your shoulder, taking a sip of her drink. “I think he’s a no-show,” she mutters after another minute, staring down into her cup and biting her lip.
“Yeah,” you nod, giving her a sad smile and bumping her with your shoulder. “What an asshole.”
It lifts her a little bit for a momentary smile that flickers in your direction, but it falls away again. “He was a really nice asshole. Something about me ‘deserving more’ and seeing ‘the real’ me.”
You hum at the sincere line said before by all too many insincere people. Tara was always the real her, and it was part of what made her so… her. Even her attempts to hide her wounds only made them more visible. To suggest otherwise was to mean he hadn’t known her very well. “It was the guy from the karaoke bar, right?” you ask.
She nods, eyes looking a little misty. You remember him well— reeking of alcohol and jostling her shoulder harshly while they sang Copacabana off key and miraculously off beat. You hadn't liked him much then, though you never did when it came to who Tara had moved onto. You hated him now, for almost making her cry.
"I guess someone told him about the attacks," she mumbled. "He said he didn't 'want to be next.' Funny part is I don't either."
"He's just a knob," you say, shaking your head. Then, you remember a particularly special piece of information you had been holding onto for the few weeks she had been talking to him. You lean into her ear, smirking as you whisper. "Though from what I heard, he didn't have a particularly large one."
It finally manages to pull a giggle from her, and she smacks you on the leg with a brilliant smile, the one that always makes your heart beat a bit faster. "What a perverted thing to say," she chides, rolling her eyes, but she still so clearly finds it funny.
"Coming from you, that's super rich," you tease. "Your imagination's gonna get you a passport to hell one day."
She smacks you on the arm again. "Come on, we should get you home, you've clearly had too much."
"So all I've got to do to convince you it's time to leave is make dirty jokes?" you grin as she stands, turning to you with an outstretched hand. You take it, letting her pull you up from the staircase.
"Nope," she replies, popping the p. "I just think it's nice out tonight."
"Yeah right," you say, walking towards the mountain of coats, grabbing her pink puffer one from the pile and then your own heavy jacket. "It's cold as hell."
"To you, you big baby," Tara teases, ditching her cup on the nearby mantle. She still zips herself all the way up, shoving her hands into her pockets, until she looks down. "Shit."
You furrow your eyebrows, turning around from zipping up your own. "What?"
"My shoe's untied," she groans. "And I already zipped this damn thing up." You roll your eyes. She could easily unzip it and do it herself, but you know she doesn't want to.
"Just ask already, slick."
She's beaming at you again and you suck in a breath at the way her brown eyes always seem to twinkle, even in dim lights. "Tie it for me?" When you don't move, she clasps her hands together mockingly. "Please?"
"And we have a winner," you grin, bending down. She's wearing her beaten-up white Converse, and you tie it quickly, double-knotting the old, weathered laces. "Y'know, for the holidays, I'm getting you a new damn pair, these things have definitely seen better days—" you stop in your tracks when you look up. Tara's eyes are watching you with an odd expression you can't place, in a way you've never seen her look at you before. "What?" you ask.
As quickly as it flashes, Tara shoves it away, shaking her head. "Nothing, nothing." She herself seems surprised, blinking a few times as you stand back up. "We should go."
"Okay," you shrug, shoving your hands into the pockets of your pants. Tara leads the way out through the propped-open front door, right out into the cold. Tara lets out a cough, out into the air, and it turns to a condensation cloud in the cold.
New York is already icy, gearing up for winter, and the trees have shed their leaves to become small, barren branches. The house party wasn't that far from your flat or Tara's, which was part of why Sam was so okay with the both of you going. The only person more protective of Tara than you was Sam.
"So, how'd you find that out about him?" Tara asks, coughing, taking your arm in hers. She always said you were freakishly warm to the touch, but right now, it was probably a plus.
"I told you we have class together, right?"
Tara nods, her breath a little wheezy. "Yeah?"
"I talked to this girl, Ada, in that class, and she said it was true. I didn't ask how she knew, though, but she really laid into him for being an asshole."
"Hm," she hums. "And you didn't say anything about it?" You know she's teasing, but you shake your head.
"You seemed excited about him, and you can make your own choices. Plus, I didn't know if you'd really care, to be honest." She doesn't say anything back, but that weird look is back on her face, so you avert your own eyes, feeling a burning on your cheeks.
"Thanks," she whispers. "You always trust me more than Sam does."
The both of you walk about another block before Tara speaks again. "I'm hungry," she says, coughing into her hand.
"I've got food at mine?" you suggest, the cold night air tickling at the roof of your mouth as you speak. The tips of your ears are freezing, as is the back of your neck, and you shiver after a particularly harsh gust of wind. It's unforgiving, in that way, and the wind barrels down the tall streets, chilling people throughout the winter. Tara coughs again and you shoot her a look.
"This cold air is really messing me up," she says with an eye roll. "I'll be okay, let's just get home." You send her another wary glance but turn your attention back to the city. You and her pass a few high rises with people in the warm windows.
"Must be nice to be indoors right now," you grin. Tara smirks right back at you.
"Maybe we should've just stayed in and watched some movies."
You roll your eyes. "Oh, now who wants to take my suggestion?"
"Yeah, well, now I've got the bath calling for me," she says, unlinking your arms to adjust her jacket. "That and Love Is a Losing Game and the block button."
"Poor baby," you tease. "Must be nice having a bathtub."
"It is," she nods, still fiddling with the zipper and pulling it down a little. "I can have all the wine and bubble baths I want." She's still coughing, struggling through her words.
"Greedy," you laugh, walking on ahead. You get only a few steps before you notice Tara isn't following you.
"Hey, what—" When you turn around, you can see her eyes wide, and she wanders towards the curb, plopping herself down on the freezing pavement and clutching at her throat.
"Shit," you rush, quickly coming over and kneeling down in between her knees as she continues to cough. "Shit, shit, shit." Her eyes are wild as she struggles to breathe, and she grabs your hand tight, squeezing it sharp with her nails. "Tara, what's happening? Is this an attack?"
She only manages a small nod, coughing awfully and trying but failing to take in a wheezy breath. You swallow the lump in your throat, looking around for someone, anyone, but the street is deserted. "Where's your inhaler? Where is it?"
Tara's nails dig into the skin of your hand in between her coughing, drawing small crescent moons of blood. Her other hand goes to her jacket, lifting up the bulge over her chest that is her interior pocket. You nod, trying to unzip it, but for some reason, it's not coming down.
Her eyes are full of fear and the brimming of tears as she struggles to breathe, and you mess with the zipper, trying to pull it down in the cold. "God fucking dammit, it won't—" you try to explain, yanking on the damn thing, which continues not to budge. Her own fingers reach up to try and get at the zipper, but you beat her to it, harshly ripping it open.
Her medicine bag falls right out, and you open it, dumping everything out onto the pavement and picking up her small blue inhaler. She sends you that weird look again as you shake it for a few seconds, handing it over. She takes a wheezy breath out and places the inhaler over her lips as she shuts her eyes, breathing in as deep as she can. You wait nervously as she holds it in her mouth, before finally letting out a much easier exhale.
Tears are pricking the corner of her eyes, and you raise a soft hand to gently brush them away with the pad of your thumb as relief washes over you. She's breathing and she's okay, and that's all you really care about.
Tara's hand finally drops its grip on yours, and though your hand is stinging in the places she drew blood, you pay it no mind. You turn your attention to her medicine bag, picking up the bottle and bandaids you dumped out as she waits and takes another puff. You don't say anything, just silently start picking up her things and putting them away, zipping up the bag.
When it's in order, you give her a gentle smile and put the bag back into her jacket, plopping yourself down next to her as you wait for her to let you know she's okay. After another puff and about another minute, her breath is slowed, and the fast beating of your heart begins to slow as well.
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Tara doesn't say much, staring out onto the street in total silence as she takes deep breaths in and out. You watch her with a worried expression, tensing every time she lets out a cough, but it's quickly pushed away as her lungs relax. Even after twenty minutes go by, you both remain there, sitting in silence, your eyes never leaving her face, except for the occasional passing car.
After long enough, she scoots a bit closer to you, letting her own eyes find yours. "That was scary," she whispers.
"Yeah," you nod. "Sorry about... well, your jacket. I think I might've broken the zipper. Guess I'll have to get you that for the holidays too—"
She raises her hand, brushing some hair back from your forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment and then brushing themselves down your cheek. You freeze at the touch of her cold hands but do not pull away, feeling her trace your jaw and then lower, her hand stopping against you just below your collarbone, right above your heart. She's so close you can hear her breathing, feel her warmth and how it fans out across your cheeks.
"Tara—" you breathe, but before you can finish the sentence, which wouldn't have been particularly coherent anyway, she gently presses her lips against yours. It's soft and gentle, her lips slotting against your own in a perfect match. Before you can even process the divine sensation or try to give anything in return, she's pulling away, squeezing her eyes shut and apologising.
"Sorry, sorry, I must've gotten it wrong, I just, well...," she starts. Your mind is reeling at a thousand thoughts a second. "It's just that you're always there for me when no one else is, and I guess I—"
But this time, you're the one to cut her off. You lean forward, not even caring what else she has to say, instead kissing her back hard. She groans into it, her hands cupping your cheeks, holding you against her. It's magical, she's magical, and all those moments of wishing it was you she was kissing are gone because you are the one she's kissing.
Your hands slip around her waist, holding her against you as your lips move together in sync, the breeze gently moving against your skin. "I love you," she says against you, pulling you back in. It's softer than your hungry attack, but you cherish it more, letting her pull away and rest her forehead against yours. Once more, the cold is tickling at the newfound warmth you feel.
She pulls away from your lips but not from you. "I think I thought love was supposed to be this grand, tight battle. It's what my life was, some big battle. But not you. You're as easy and helpful as breathing. I love it about you that you love everyone else, too," she whispers. She reaches up placing a kiss upon your forehead. "Get it?" she laughs. "Breathing?"
"Too soon," you scoff, shaking your head. "I've loved you a long time, Tara," you reply, feeling your cheeks flush. "Through the assholes and the cowards and the people who wanted me. I've loved you. It might be chronic, I think I always will." You're so damn warm it's antithetical to the freezing chill that attempts to throw itself at you and Tara, only to be batted off by your hands upon each other.
She lets out a soft smile, putting her head back on your shoulder, only this time, it's your other one. "Maybe I should almost die more often if it means I get to have you."
You shake your head, leaning it against hers. "That's not funny," you scoff, and she rolls her eyes at you, gently prodding you in the side. "Besides," you smile. "You can have me any time now, you dork."
"That sounds nice," she hums against you. "But I still want pizza."
"Do you want to come back to mine? I think I have one in the freezer."
"Hm," she murmurs, then nuzzles deeper. "Five more minutes."
As easy as breathing, together.
===+++===
really struggled with the ending speech but i kind of liked not really having one? it's just kind of understood. no nice-guy 'it was me all along' or 'i'm sorry i didn't notice you sooner.'
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3rdgymbros · 4 months ago
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━ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 !
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— pairing; nagi seishiro x reader  
— summary; set in the future, where your baby with nagi comes early while he's playing in a match.
— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my content and and please commission me because im broke. kisses to everyone who reblogs.
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❋ This is the most important game of Nagi’s career, and you’re not about to call him off the field for this.
❋ . . . Even if you might be in labour.
❋ You think you’re in labour, anyway.
❋ You’re looking into it.
❋ You try to brush it off as just another false alarm since the baby’s not due for another month, even as your stomach feels oddly tight and heavy.
❋ Now that you’re this far along, Nagi makes sure to pay extra attention to you, always checking on you before he leaves practice or matches. He kisses you sweetly as always, but he hesitates before leaving you alone in the stands, where you have an unobstructed view of the field. “Are you sure you're okay? You look kind of . . . Sweaty.”
❋ You wave him off with a smile, trying to act normal. “Just nerves.”
❋ The whistle blows and the match begins with all that usual fanfare. You try to lose yourself in the magic of the game, how effortlessly graceful Nagi looks when he’s dominating the field, but it’s hard as the contractions grow stronger, more intense than you could have ever imagined.
❋ You’re grimly determined to make it through the game, cheering for Nagi just as you’ve always done. So you dig your nails into the arm-rests of your seat and try to force the breath back into your lungs.
❋ Not yet. Not yet.
❋ It’s Reo who catches sight of you up in the VIP section of the stands; you’re shaking and doubled over, clutching at your stomach. A small crowd is already forming around you, and it’s hard to miss the panic on the face of Chigiri’s mother and older sister.
❋ “Nagi,” Reo says, an unusual urgency lacing his voice, and Nagi turns, follows the direction of his gaze.
❋ A very red-faced Chris Prince and the throng of fans are in an uproar when Nagi sprints off-field with a renewed burst of energy. His focus is completely on you now, the ongoing game now pushed to the very recesses of his mind. “Hey, what's wrong? You look weird.”
❋ You’re pale and tight-lipped, sweat sticking your hair to your face and neck, but you still try to act as though everything’s fine. “Nothing’s wrong. Go back to the game!” You try to shoo him away with a wave of your hand, but Nagi isn’t buying it.
❋ “Nah, you look like you're dying or something. That’s not normal.” he deadpanned, pulling out his phone to call his driver (well, Reo’s driver).
❋ “Go back to the game!” You try to tell him again, biting back a cry as another contraction rips through your body.
❋ Nagi shakes his head, already bending down to scoop you into his arms. "It’s just a game. You and the baby are more important," he mumbles, carrying you to the nearest exit with surprising strength.
❋ By the time you reach the hospital and you’re ushered into a private room, your contractions are coming in hard and fast waves, and you’re clutching Nagi’s hand like a vice. "Ow . . . How are you so strong? You’re so small . . ." he mutters, his face scrunching up in pain.
❋ Still wearing his jersey and cleats, Nagi stays by your side the entire time, which you’re grateful for since his calming presence helps more than you’ll admit. He’s completely unbothered by the fact that he missed the rest of the game (which his team, fortunately, won).
❋ What you’re NOT grateful for: his unhelpful comments. "Why does it take so long?”, “Can’t you speed it up?" Nagi gets the hint and shuts up when you hurl a pillow at him with a string of very colourful curses, because it’s his fault that you’re here, dammit.
❋ When the baby finally arrives, red-faced and announcing her arrival with a loud scream, Nagi stares at the tiny bundle in awe, his large frame completely dwarfing his child. But his large hands are gentle, holding his baby like she’s the most precious thing in the world. “Huh. She’s kind of like a mini you . . . So small and soft.”
❋ But when the baby yawns, all droopy-eyed and their small face a sleepy smudge, you think that your daughter looks more like Nagi.
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gabriellessworldd · 8 months ago
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Do i make you nervous?
shy, nerdy Armin x bold black fem reader
wc- 1.4k!
☆ warnings ☆: js a lil smth for my armin girlies! very light smut nth too crazy 18+, oral (f receive, you sit on his face 😛), armin is obsessed with you, so when you asked him to be your tutor he thanked his lucky stars.
"Excuse me, Miss L/n, could you stay after class, there's a pressing matter." your chemistry professor Mrs. Clark announced whilst sending you a look after she graded your assignment. "Yea i'll stay." you mumbled opening up your macbook, checking the damage, '13% no. fucking. way.' sure you weren't the best student but it was never this bad.
Class was finally over and honestly you wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and take a long ass nap. "Miss L/n, don't keep me waiting! Come here please." honestly you didn't want to hear what she had to say, but if you wanted to pass this class you would have to work your ass off. "Yes ma'am, what's the matter?" you were trying to be polite and sweet so maybe she'd have mercy on you but, that plan didn't work.
After 25 minutes of her lecturing you about your grades, she finally offered some help. "I would suggest you get a tutor, it could give you that extra push you need. Hearing the same stuff from me everyday clearly isn't helping you." She looks at you and shrugs, "You can see yourself out now, enjoy your afternoon." As much as she annoyed you, your professor was right, and you had the perfect tutor in mind.
Armin Arlert. Not only was he smart as fuck but he also had a gorgeous face. It made perfect sense, if that pretty boy had been teaching you chemistry you probably would've had perfect attendance and 100's on all your assignments. You saw him walking off campus and rushed after him, you weren't sure if he would help, but what's the harm in asking?
"Hey Armin!" he turned around looking for who was calling him then he spotted you waving him down. 'is y/n looking for me?' he felt his stomach do an olympic level gymnastic routine (😜) and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was captivated by you, there was just something so perfect about you. The way you laughed, your voice, your beautiful eyes, your entire being had him enthralled.
He walked over to you, "h-hey y/n" he tried not to get too nervous but the small voice crack gave him away. "hi! i was wondering if you could do me a favor?" you batted your eyelashes and smiled brightly. "o-oh! y-yea of course, what's the matter?" he said it almost too quickly, Armin was just glad he could talk to you. You studied his face, it was perfect, the way his glasses sat on his face, the pink tint on his lightly freckled cheeks, even his pink plump lips. 'wait, why is he blushing?' you smiled at the thought, this would be so easy.
"s-so you need m-me to tutor y-you?" he stumbled over his words, an hour and thirty minutes alone with you, luck really was on his side today. "Yup, that's it! Think we could start today?" you checked the time, it was 3:47. "You could come to my house now if you're free! There aren't any distractions and it would be just me nd you!" There was no way Armin was turning this down, "yes that works for me." 'fuck yea i finally made it through a sentence without stuttering' he smiled softly showing his teeth, and your knees nearly buckled.
You opened your door, the scent of vanilla and strawberries clouded Armin. Your place was comfy nd clean, "You can sit at the table over there, I need to shower quickly if you don't mind!" He nodded his head 'i can't believe im in y/n's house right now' he pulled out his textbook nd laptop, not that he would really need it.
"Thank you so much for waiting!" you walked out of your room in your pj's and matching house slippers. "You want anything to drink? I've got dr pepper, pineapple fanta, nd water." Armin watched you walk to the kitchen, your small shorts shrinking with every step, "u-uhm dr pepper is fine. thanks." You sat back down with the two drinks, your boobs bounced slightly in your exposed cheetah print push up bra. you noticed Armin's face heat up and slightly turn pink, you decided to tease him.
you leaned over the table and showing more cleavage and placed your hand on his arm, "Do you mind explaining this to me? I don't get it" Armin tried not to make eye contact with you and took a sip of his drink, but when he finally gave in your seductive eyes almost killed him. He choked on the dr pepper, "um y-yea it's dea-" "Wait.. do i make you nervous?" you cut him off, not caring about chemistry anymore, that assignment could wait.
You scooted closer to Armin and leaned in close to his face, "you're a very pretty boy Armin, did you know that?" You looked at his lips and back at his eyes, "n-no I've ne-never-" You went to kiss him and he immediately took the chance. His soft hands instantly squeezed your tits, and you ran your fingers through his soft blonde hair. The kiss was sweet but it was also passionate, it felt desperate like you both needed more. Armin slid down the straps to your top and bra, freeing your boobs. His soft hands pinched and rolled your nipples, you softly moaned into his mouth and he slipped his tongue in. But he still wanted more.
Armin pulled away from the kiss, face flushed and cheeks red, with a light sheen on his lips from your lip gloss. He lowered his mouth to your right nipple, slipping it in while still playing with the left. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, tugging at his locks. Armin left hickeys all over your chest, wanting to mark you, he needed to know that this wasn't a deluded dream and that you were right there letting him touch you. He looked up at you while sliding your tit out of his mouth with a pop, "c-can we go to your room?" his face was filled with lust, he looked so divine. "of course" you stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him to your room. Armin was anxious obviously, but the was something he needed.
You laid in your bed with your legs propped up on Armin's shoulders as he sloppily ate you out. "Fuck Armin! right there please!" He sucked on your clit, he needed you to cum, he wanted to taste how sweet you were. "o-oh fuck armin, mmhm, right there" He came up, his lips covered in your arousal, " I want you to cum in my mouth y/n." He went back to sucking your clit, you felt a familiar pressure build up in the lower half of your stomach,"a-ah mm armin. That feels soo good!" You could feel yourself about to unravel as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon y/n, c-cum for me, please." he felt you pulse on his tongue and pull his hair, he started getting sloppier.
Your thighs squeezed his head as you felt your high coming. "ah Armin 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out as he sucked on your clit, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed, mouth dangling open. You felt yourself squirt and looked down at Armin watching him lick up everything.
"Can, can you s-sit on my f-face?" He wanted you to say yes, he needed you to say yes. You looked at him puzzled, "You want me, to sit on your face?" "Yes. please y/n." You nodded your head at the blonde, Armin quickly sat down, laying down fully when he saw you stand over him. You straddled his face, not fully sitting down all the way. "Y/n sit down all the way please, I promise I'll be alright." You listened and sat down.
"o-oh fuck armin, oh my god please!" his nose rubbed your sensitive clit as he continued tongue fucking you, his groans vibrated against your core. He loved the way you moaned, it sounded so heavenly, it was his new favorite sound. You needed more, you started to slowly grind on his face, "c-can you go faster y/n please." You picked up the pace, his tongue worked wonders, it was like Armin knew exactly what you liked. "a-ah Armin! 'm too sensitive, gonna cum again" You were on cloud nine, his tongue continued the ravaging pace. "c-cum for me sweetheart." The overstimulation and sloppy licks to your clit drove you over the edge "Fuck! ah Armin!" your vision went clouded as you came down from your high. Armin was satisfied, this was all he needed, to taste every bit of you.
a/n ☆: hiiii my lovebugs!! firstly i js wanna say i'm so grateful for all the interaction with "Never get yo bitch back!" also next part will be coming soon! lmk if y'all wanna get tagged in my future projects!! (y'all like the color switch for different characters or js keep pink?)
-with lots of love, gabrielle <3
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jzprncess · 5 months ago
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love language by sza
“help me understand how you speak your love language ”
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pairing: Max Verstappen x Y/N reader
part 1/2 next part
word count: 2,823
summary: a girlfriend of a successful f1 driver decides to learn Dutch to better understand her boyfriends world—his culture, his emotions, and the language he speaks—hoping to connect more deeply and navigate the complexities of their high-speed, high-pressure relationship.
note: first time writing a fan fiction so be nice please! i don’t know how to work tumblr to the fullest so if you want to requests anything, message it to me! this will be in two parts! please leave comments so i know im doing something right!!
       ❛ ━━・♡❪ ❁ ❫♡・━━ ❜
Out of all the unexpected turns her life had taken, learning another language was never on Y/N's radar. Yet, here she was, grappling with the complexities of Dutch, staring at her laptop screen during a Zoom call with her tutor, Anne. They had been chatting frequently, especially while Max was off competing in a grueling triple-header race weekend.
Before he left, Y/N had noticed the shadow of frustration in Max's eyes, a rare shift from his usually upbeat demeanor. It wasn’t lost on her—or anyone, really. The weight of the season’s challenges had begun to press down on him, making his once confident posture seem a little more hunched, his usual optimism now clouded by self-doubt. Everyone could see it. With the way the season had started, Max had envisioned triumph. But now, in October, his hopes felt distant. He hadn’t clinched a victory since June, and every reminder of that fact only seemed to add to his frustration. Y/N wished she could lift that burden, even if just for a moment.
In an attempt to brighten his spirits, she decided to do something special for him—a gesture that would help him escape the pressure he was under. The very day he departed, Y/N found herself scouring the internet, searching for someone who could teach her some basic Dutch. Max, ever the romantic, had always whispered sweet phrases in his native tongue—whether it was giving her a compliment or simply wishing her a good morning. And though she often required translations, Y/N thought, Why not learn the language myself? It couldn’t be that difficult, right?
And so, here she was, earnestly trying to master the phrase “I love you, handsome” in Dutch, yet somehow fumbling over the words.
“Y/N, your pronunciation is getting better, but you need to keep practicing,” Anne encouraged from the other side of the screen, her fingers dancing over her keyboard. The rhythmic sound of her typing seemed to fill the space between them, as if punctuating her words with gentle encouragement. “Have you taken my advice and started watching shows in Dutch? Immersing yourself in the language will really help you improve, especially with those tricky pronunciations.”
Y/N leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, and stared at the screen, her lips pressing together as she tried to hold back the exhaustion creeping in. She had been working hard at this—between the classes, the practice, the late nights watching Dutch shows, and the constant racing schedule with Max, it was all starting to feel like a lot. “Yeah, I’ve been talking to the TV like it’s my best friend,” she said with a small, self-deprecating chuckle, her voice sounding a bit weary. “The characters probably think I’m crazy by now. But, you know, I think I’m making progress? Or at least I hope I am.”
Anne’s eyebrows raised in an encouraging way. “Well, that’s the spirit! The more you immerse yourself, the more natural it will feel. Dutch can be tricky, especially with its sounds, but you’re not giving up, and that’s what matters.”
Y/N exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. It had been one of those days—between working on the language and managing the quiet space Max left behind when he was away, the weight of it all was starting to wear on her. “I don’t know... I keep stumbling over the same words, Anne. Like, I feel like I’m so close to getting it, but then I hear myself speak Dutch, and it just sounds... off. I’m trying, but it’s hard to know if I’m really improving.”
Anne smiled gently from the screen, as though she understood exactly where Y/N was coming from. “That’s completely normal. Language learning isn’t a straight path. There are ups and downs, but the key is to be patient with yourself. Remember, it’s not about perfection—it’s about progress. You’re already doing so much more than most people would.”
“I guess so.” Y/N’s voice softened, her eyes drifting away for a moment, lost in thought. “I just wish I could see it, you know? Max always speaks so fluently, and when he says something sweet in Dutch, it sounds so effortless. I want to understand it all, to be able to speak with him like that without stumbling or needing translations.”
Anne nodded, her face sympathetic. “I get that. You want to connect with him in the language that’s so familiar to him, and that’s a beautiful thing. But don’t forget, language is just one part of communication. Max will appreciate your effort no matter where you are in your learning. It’s about the intention, the heart behind it. And besides, if you’re working hard at it, he’ll see that.”
Y/N let out a small sigh, leaning forward in her chair and running a hand through her hair. “I just want him to know how much I’m trying. I know it’s hard for him when the season gets tough, and I want to be able to understand him better, not just the words, but how he’s feeling... especially when he gets frustrated. I want to be able to share those moments with him in his language.” She looked back up at Anne, a mixture of fatigue and determination in her eyes. "But it's like I'm still learning a whole new world, Anne. It's a lot to take in."
Anne’s expression softened even more. “Learning a language is like learning a new way to see the world. And you’re doing it for the right reasons. Max will notice that. Even if you don’t think you’re where you want to be yet, he’s going to appreciate your effort, your commitment to him and to his language. And you’re already showing him that you care in ways most people wouldn’t.”
Y/N gave a faint smile, feeling the weight of Anne’s words settle into her. She took another deep breath, her gaze flickering back to the screen. “I hope so. I’m doing this for him, and... for me, too. It’s just hard to see the progress sometimes when you’re so deep in it.”
“Well, keep at it, Y/N,” Anne encouraged again, her voice gentle but firm. “The progress is there, even when you can’t see it. And remember, when Max comes back, you’ll have a whole new way of connecting. That’s something special. Now, how about we wrap up for today, and next time, we focus on a few of those tricky sounds you’ve been stumbling over?”
Y/N nodded, the exhaustion beginning to fade as she felt a renewed sense of determination wash over her. "Yeah, let’s do that. Thanks, Anne. Really."
Anne smiled warmly, her tone softening. “Good night, Y/N. You’re doing great. Keep going, and keep believing in yourself.”
With that, the call ended, leaving Y/N in the quiet of her room. As the screen went dark, she sat still for a moment, letting Anne’s words settle into her. She still had a long way to go with Dutch, but now, she felt a little less weighed down by it all. She stood up from the desk, stretched, and with a deep breath, made her way to the kitchen. There was more to learn, yes, but she could do it. For Max. And for herself
This had become her routine for the past few weeks—immersing herself in a new language while navigating the emotional ups and downs of Max's racing career. Each night flowed into the next, filled with lessons and the hope that her efforts would spark joy in him when he returned. In a way, she couldn’t help but feel that this small adventure might not only help her connect with him in a deeper way but also serve as a reminder that even in tough times, he had someone in his corner—someone ready to support him and learn alongside him.
Time passed, and soon enough, the hectic three-race weekend was behind them.
Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when Max would be home. The unpredictable nature of his F1 schedule made it hard to keep track of his exact arrival time. As the hours stretched on, she decided to make the most of the quiet afternoon. She started by tidying up the house, picking up scattered race memorabilia and smoothing out the couch cushions, which always seemed to get tossed around after a long weekend of travel. The kitchen was next—dishes stacked in the sink, a few crumbs left from breakfast, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. She cleaned with a kind of absent-minded rhythm, her thoughts drifting between the tasks at hand and the excitement of his return.
Not wanting to spend the whole day indoors, Y/N grabbed her coat, slipped into her shoes, and decided to run a few errands to break the monotony. She mentally made a list of things she needed—a trip to the grocery store for fresh produce, perhaps a quick stop at the florist to pick up some flowers for the dining table. The gentle hum of the city as she walked outside felt like a welcome distraction. As she moved through the familiar streets, her mind kept drifting to Max—imagining his arrival later that evening and wondering how he would feel after the intense race weekend. With a small smile, she pushed the thought aside. There were errands to run, and time had a way of slipping by faster when you were busy.
After a while, Y/N decided it was time to head back home, the errands and quiet city stroll leaving her feeling a bit more tired than usual. The exhaustion crept up slowly, settling into her bones in the best way—a peaceful kind of tiredness that made the thought of being home all the more appealing. Once she stepped inside, she kicked off her shoes by the door and shrugged off her jacket, instantly feeling the comfort of her own space wrap around her.
She sank onto the couch, letting the weight of the day melt away, but it wasn’t long before she found herself wanting to do something—something simple and familiar to bring a sense of warmth and routine to the day. The kitchen seemed like the perfect place. She stepped into the kitchen, the warmth of the space a comforting contrast to the quiet of the house. Her mind immediately wandered to dessert—something sweet to fill the silence. Pulling out her phone, she swiped through a few recipe sites, curiosity leading her fingers. After a moment, she typed "Dutch desserts" into the search bar. Her eyes quickly landed on appeltaart, the iconic Dutch apple pie. The thought of the rich, spiced apples wrapped in buttery crust made her stomach rumble. It was exactly what the moment called for.
With a smile, she set the phone down and rolled up her sleeves. The comforting hum of her favorite playlist began to fill the room, chasing away the silence and replacing it with familiar tunes. As the music flowed through the speakers, she started pulling ingredients from the pantry—flour, sugar, butter, and cinnamon. She paused for a moment, letting the soft beat of the song take over as she laid everything out on the counter. The scent of cinnamon already began to stir a feeling of warmth and anticipation.
With a deep breath, she moved into the rhythm of the recipe, the steady motion of measuring, mixing, and prepping grounding her. She could already picture the golden crust and warm, sweet filling that would soon fill the kitchen, and her heart swelled with a sense of simple joy.
As she hummed softly to the tune playing in the background, completely engrossed in the rhythm of her mixing and the warmth of the kitchen, she remained oblivious to Max stepping through the front door, his footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. Max paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before he crept quietly toward the kitchen, careful not to make a sound. He peeked around the corner, his gaze falling on you as you worked your magic, your movements fluid and focused. A smile tugged at his lips as the sweet scent of apple pie hit him, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the warm, comforting aroma that filled the air.
Max moved silently behind her, his steps light as he closed the distance between them. With a smile, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment, savoring the warmth of her presence, before pressing a tender kiss to her soft skin. As he inhaled the sweet scent of the kitchen, his lips brushed her shoulder, and he murmured in a low, appreciative voice, "Smells amazing."
The unexpected touch causes her to flinch, a small gasp escaping her as she instinctively tenses, but her body quickly relaxes when she turns to find Max standing there. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she meets his gaze. "I didn't hear you come in," she murmurs, her voice gentle and warm as she leans slightly into his embrace, feeling the comforting weight of his presence. She glances toward the counter, her hands still lightly dusted with flour, and then looks back at him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and pride. "I made apple—" Her words falter for a brief moment, and she pauses, taking a breath before finishing with a playful smile, "Ik heb appeltaart gemaakt." (i made apple pie) She lets the Dutch phrase roll off her tongue with a touch of pride, her eyes lighting up as she anticipates his reaction to the homemade treat and at the sudden Dutch.
Max chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Oh, dus je spreekt nu Nederlands?" (Oh, so you speak Dutch now?) His eyes narrow playfully as he takes her in, studying her with a hint of disbelief, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. It takes a moment for her to process his words, the surprise registering on her face before a grin tugs at her lips. She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly as she meets his gaze. “Leren voor jou,” she responds with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, her voice light and teasing as she repeats the phrase—"Learning for you."
Max hums contentedly into her skin, his voice soft but filled with affection. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" His words are a gentle murmur, as though he's savoring the moment. She chuckles, the sound warm and light, as she wipes her hands on a nearby towel. Without missing a beat, she spins around, her eyes sparkling, and wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I've missed you," she whispers into his chest, her voice filled with sincerity, as if the distance between them had only made her feelings stronger.
He gently pulls away, his hands lingering at her waist as he looks down at her, his eyes soft with affection. There’s a quiet warmth in his gaze, a tenderness that makes his heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, the words wrapped in a quiet vulnerability. He smiles, a soft, almost teasing glint in his eyes as he adds, "Mijntje," (my little one), his tone filled with both love and playfulness. With a tender sigh, he leans down, his face drawing closer to hers. As he lowers himself, he brushes his lips gently against hers, the kiss soft and lingering, a promise of everything he feels for her in that quiet, intimate moment. 
She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, her breath catching in the space between them. Her heart races, each beat carrying the weight of everything she feels for him. Her hands rest gently on his chest as she searches his gaze, finding warmth, safety, and a quiet promise there. With a soft sigh, she leans in just a little closer, her lips barely brushing his as she whispers, her voice trembling with sincerity, "Ik hou van jou."
The words, though soft, are heavy with all the emotions she can't quite put into words—years of trust, laughter, passion, and quiet moments, all wrapped in those simple yet profound syllables. His breath hitches, and a smile plays on his lips as he leans in, closing the small space between them with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a beginning. There’s a warmth radiating between them, an unspoken yearning that lingers in the air, electrifying yet restrained. The kiss deepens, lingering just a moment longer, igniting a flutter of anticipation in her chest—a taste of what could be. As they pull away, their eyes lock, and in that shared gaze lies a world of possibilities, a silent acknowledgment of the passion that awaits them.
⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆
tag list : @heluvsjappie
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scribs-dibs · 8 months ago
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cherry wine
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(separate) belle & wise, gn reader, kinda ooc... because im still early game i think..., late-night proofreading. godspeed if ur reading this 🫶🏾
wc; ~1.7k total
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phaethon can navigate hollows with ease. but a crush?
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Wise does not hear any of the words that play loudly on the screen in front of him. He doesn’t care to. Though this is one of his favorites– his brain is occupied by you just sitting here, beside him.
The documentary buzzes on about its topic, but Wise can’t make out a word over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. He’s stiff– sat up straight as a board even if the soft cushions of the couch beckon him to do otherwise. He can’t think. Usually he is the one who can iron out the folds of a situation, a cool collected mind built to play in contrast to his sister. But now his thoughts are a mess- contorted underneath the blunt of his embarrassment. If Belle were here now, she’d laugh right in his face.
It’s her fault he’s in this mess to begin with.
(“You suck at hiding it, you know,” Belle is at his side in the doorway, waving you goodbye for the day. Her words make him jolt.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Your crush, obviously.”
Wise is almost sure that for a moment, his heart stops beating. He barely manages to suppress the gasp that threatens to spill out of his throat.
Instead he brushes it off, turns on his heel pointedly and shakes his head from a sudden bout of fake-exhaustion.
“Okay. I’m calling it a night—”
“You’re probably not the only one to like them, Wise.”
He stops in his tracks.
Because she's right. In the months the two have come to know you, you've been the kind, helpful neighbor who has helped them through thick and thin. You are known on Sixth Street, a regular name heard from store to store— he'd be foolish to think that he's the only one that has warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of you. Damn.
“Buuut,” Belle nudges him playfully on the shoulder, her signature smile making her eyes crinkle at the edges, “You could be the first to make a move.”
“Belle–”
“I’ll even help! Come on Wise!”)
And now he’s here, with his heart fit to burst out of his chest.
“So…uh,”
Your attention is on him now, the smoothness of his voice pulling you from the visuals of the movie. Little does he know, Wise is a pleasant sight for the eyes. He has a soft, lopsided smile, and his complexion is tinted with warmth because of his room’s dim lighting. (It’s strange, though, that the more you look the more intense it seems to get.) His eyes are usually crystal clear and focused, but now they are glossed over with something that looks like unease.
The longer you stare, the harder his heart beats against his ribcage. It’s not fair, truly. You’ve only sat next to him and looked in his direction, yet his face feels like it burns and his tongue is too heavy to form proper words. Movies are his thing. Belle had suggested this because it should be easy. But he can’t think straight when butterflies are soaring in his stomach.
At the very least, he wants to see if you’re even enjoying the documentary, so he wills his mouth to do something other than open and immediately snap shut.
“Do you…like me?”
The movie. He meant the movie. The sentence was supposed to be: Do you like the movie.
There is something pitiful, Wise thinks, in how he scrambles to make up for his botched words. The calm, steady tones of his voice are replaced by chopped up mix-mashes of sentences, trying desperately to weave into something coherent.
To no avail of course.
His mouth can’t seem to stop now that it’s started, fragment after fragment tumbling freely out of his mouth– like it has a mind of its own. He’s flushed up to the ears, the pink flush to his skin now all- encompassing. His mouth just keeps moving– until you manage to stop it with your own.
You can feel his breath hitch in his throat. Wise doesn’t think he deserves a reward this good after fumbling so badly, but when your lips brush against his he can’t find it in himself to be truly upset. You are pulling at the edges of his jacket, hands digging hard into the material to ensure he doesn’t try to pull away. You can’t stand to see him apologize for crossing some sort of nonexistent line– your feelings are returned.
“Does that answer your question?”
Wise has to take a moment to breathe. The kiss was a short little thing, one that was chaste in nature– you just wanted him to be sure of your own feelings. The blue-green of his eyes are focused on you– truly focused, this time, not a fleeting glance that is quickly cast away.
“Wise?”
Your voice snaps him out of the daze he was in.
“Yeah. Yeah, but,”
It’s his turn to pull you in this time– subtly soft hands cupping your cheeks.
“Would you mind ‘answering’ me again?”
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Belle is someone you’ve always looked up to.
She’s sweet and smart, and throughout all your errands throughout Sixth Street she’s always available to lend a hand. You couldn’t find a paper long enough to list all the reasons you’re grateful for her presence.
That being said, when you’re face to face with her, you can’t quite seem to get yourself together.
“C’mon, you’re not going easy on me, are you?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Belle pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out. It’s adorable, and you’re so taken that you fully run into her snake on the arcade machine.
It was her idea to go out once the day had come to a close. The sun still hangs lazily in the sky, casting everything in gold. The arcade is a place where you can relax after being pulled this way and that by different people around town. This time, Belle joins you, offhandedly mentioning how she also needs to destress from such a long day at work.
You’re a bit distracted, though, when the neon lights reflect in her eyes and make her smile that much more radiant.
“You’re not answering…” Belle gasps, complete with a theatrical hand to her chest, “You are, aren’t you!”
“No, of course not! I just,” It dawns on you that the arcade is nearly empty, and suddenly this one-on-one game of snake seems far more intimate than it actually is. It’s just you and her. You can’t help but feel a bit giddy on the inside– the excitement must deal a blow to your accuracy.
“I’m just off my game, that’s all.”
Belle hums, contemplative. You can’t help but feel worried when the gears of her brain start turning.
“In that case…That just means we need to up the steaks!”
“Up the steaks?”
She nods, and her smile grows more devious by the second.
“Mhm! Let’s say…” Belle taps her chin, and though she is putting on a show of trying to think of something, you have a sneaking suspicion that she has already decided what it is she’s after, “The loser has to give something to the winner?”
You know, distantly, that this has to play into Belle’s hands somehow. But she’s never done you any harm, and her eagerness is so palpable that you can’t help but concede.
“Alright, alright. Fine.”
There is nothing but the buzz and click of the machine for a while, and Belle was right– the new motivation lights a fire underneath you, and suddenly your nerves are replaced by a burning desire to win. You don’t know what you’ll ask for if you do– by the time you two are finished here, with the score finally settled, you’re sure most of Sixth Street’s shops will be closed. But you want to win.
You swerve at the last minute to avoid Belle’s snake, grabbing a diamond on the tile in front by the skin of your teeth. But Belle has always been sneaky, able to pull a last-minute change in a situation with ease. She cuts a sharp turn, and the rest of her snake is able to encircle yours. You watch with a sickly sense of dread as your snake breaks into itty-bitty pieces.
You heave a sigh– at least it was a good game. But you’re still soured at the loss of a win that was so close.
“Aww, what’s wrong?” Belle is grinning, eyes forming little crescents, “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser…”
You roll your eyes, but you’re far too endeared to be properly annoyed.
“’Course not. You won,”
The arcade’s lights have started to dim by now, the peachy-colored sky dipped into inky darkness as you step out.
“Even if you were sneaky about it.”
“Was not!”
You glare out of the corner of your eye, and again you are met with a playful pout.
“What is it you want, anyway?” You busy yourself with walking a few steps ahead, avoiding her moonlit face as much as possible. How can you put up a fight when she looks at you like that?
“Well,” Belle gazes upon the shops along Sixth Street, their windows dark and their doors closed, “Everything is closed for the night, looks like. I’ll have to get a bit creative, huh?”
Belle’s footsteps grow louder, and before you know it she’s made her way in front of you, eyes full of starlight.
“How about…”
She takes slow, calculated steps toward you, and your heart leaps in your throat.
“A kiss?”
Belle is but a few inches away from you, her head tilted and her gaze soft. Her voice is quiet and unusually meek as she says it, like her confidence had reached its limit.
“…O-of course, if you don’t want to–”
You pull her in before you can second-guess yourself. Her lips are plush, and though she is initially surprised by your sudden movement, it takes barely a second for you to feel them smile against your own. Her arms link around you like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever done, and the silver-tinted street is drowned out like it never mattered.
When you part, her face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. You aren’t better off– you’re so happy that you now stand on wobbly legs.
“Happy now?”
“Hm, not quite. I think you should give me another.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
ty for reading! rbs w/comments are appreciated!
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eomayas · 8 months ago
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chasing pavements • hjs
pairing: husband!joshua x wife!reader, parent au
genre: angst, hurt/comfort
synopsis: just reader and joshua being parents
warnings: parental woes, arguments, past childhood trauma, girl-dad!joshua, their child is nameless and is called ‘baby’
a/n: the people asked for dad!shua but nobody said which kind…🤭 anyway this was v random and is very parent-y so beware!
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sighing out a deep breath, you open your eyes and try to make your voice as gentle and even as possible. “i’ve asked you to clean up your mess three times now, baby. i’m not going to ask you again,” you stop stirring the spoon in the pot to look over your shoulder at her. she’s busy dragging her crayons over a coloring page, not bothering to look up at you.
“but im not done!” she whines, bottoms lip jutting out with the beginnings of a tantrum. you tense and and blink a few times as she just whines, tiny hand holding the crayon tightly in her hand. she’s not even coloring inside of the lines, just streaking the colors over the sheet haphazardly.
“dinner is almost ready. clean it up,” you voice is stern, tension in your tone rising as well as in your posture. you grip the ladle tightly in your fist, your other hand braced against the kitchen counter. “if i have to ask you again, then-“ the consequence dies on your tongue at the sound of the lock clicking and the front door opening. she gasps and shoots up from the table, loose crayons scattering across the wood floors.
“papa!” she shouts, running down the hall to greet joshua. you close your eyes and push out a breath from your nose. your jaw is tight as you turn back to face the stove. “look at what i got from school today! oh, and you missed seeing soobin today!”
“yeah? what is it?” he’s pressing a kiss to her cheek as he enters the kitchen, making her giggle when he blows raspberry against her skin. joshua sets her down so she can run to her backpack. “hey, baby.” he says, a hand sliding around to your hip and his lips pressing against your jaw in a greeting.
“hey,” you shrug him off of you and turn the burner down to low heat. “uh-uh, you can show daddy after dinner. go clean up,” you say, stopping her short when she comes back with a paper from school clutched in her hands.
that bottom lip juts out again and her eyes dart over to joshua for help. it only frustrates you more, because all three of you know that she has him in her palm. “well- joshua, stop.” you bark, throwing your arm out to the side to push against his abdomen. “go clean up the table so we can eat dinner.” her eyes well up with tears, and you feel like the biggest asshole in the world for making her cry. you remember a brief moment of yourself as a child and being scared each time your father asked you to do something. he never had to ask you or your siblings more than once—you all found out the hard way—and worry that you’re doing the same thing to her.
she huffs and spins around, her walk mopey as she puts her paper back into her bag and starts to slowly pick up the crayons. you feel joshua start, his hand gently pushing yours away as he makes his way over to her. “i’ll help you, princess,” he says and you grit your teeth.
“joshua, stop! i’ve asked her six times now, she needs to listen!” you’re on the brink of snapping, another word out of him or her is very likely to send you over the edge. it’s rough. the day was shitty from the jump, but you didn’t think it would be this bad by the end.
you expect joshua to at least have your back when you put a number on it, he looks over at you before glancing down at your daughter with sad eyes. “y/n, she’s just a baby.”
“goddamnit, joshua! let me do this!”
and then the dam breaks. her wail ripples through you like an electric current, setting off all of the alarms and signals that let you know your daughter is in trouble. except, you put her in this position, and now your heart has sunk to your stomach. joshua hurries to pick her up, cradling her against his chest and smoothing his hand over her hair. you stay rooted at your place by the stove, ignoring the sting in your nose and the newly formed lump in your throat. joshua shushes her softly like he used to when she was much smaller, but she just keeps wailing.
her cries slice through your heart and shred it to pieces. you want to walk over to her and hold her, tell her that you’re sorry, but you don’t think it’ll help. “baby- i’ve got it,” joshua cuts you off this time, cutting his eyes at you as he keeps trying to console her.
it only frustrates you more, and your anger is misplaced when you spit out, “deal with dinner, then. since you’ve got everything,” and storm out of the kitchen, your heels punctuating the end of the conversation. you fly up the stairs and into your bedroom, kicking off your shoes into your closet.
you stand there, in the middle of the walk-in, with your hands on your hips as you take in deep, shuddering breaths. your vision blurs with tears that you don’t let fall, instead blinking them away as you try to regain control over your breathing. her crying face swims through your mind and you almost forget why you’re so upset. almost. but unlucky for her, you’re not as easily swayed like joshua is.
grabbing a sweatshirt and a pair of pants off of their hangers, you quickly undress from your work outfit, and pull onto the much more comfortable clothes. you shove your feet into a pair of sneakers and push out a breath. her cries echo through the house, and you wince at her gasping breaths. it’s muffled, but you can hear joshua trying to calm her down, though whatever he says makes her let out a piercing wail that makes you flinch. it all feels too much; your guilt, her crying, your frustration at the both of them for different things.
you slip out of the bedroom and move as quickly and quietly as you can down the stairs. you force your eyes away from the kitchen and grab your purse off of the accent table in the foyer, and leave the house without a word.
i’m just like my father.
the thought rang through your head the the moment you pulled out of your neighborhood. it almost brought you to tears, but you managed to keep them in again. and you almost turned back, but couldn’t. you have the harrowing realization that the more you fought to be better than him, you ended up a mirror. it makes your stomach flip and turn, but yet you still don’t turn around.
time is a flat circle.
there’s not a place you’re heading for. you’ve just been driving on the back roads for nearly two hours. the sun set a long time ago, and now the sky is dark and unwelcoming. you should go him, you know it, but facing your husband isn’t something you feel up for at the moment.
turning into a dimly lit convenience store parking lot, you pull into a space and out your car in park. you sigh and lean back against the headrest, shutting your eyes and reminding yourself to breathe. you visualize a square and practice the breathing exercise your therapist taught you. in for four, out for four, her voice echoes through your head. it calms down the storm brewing inside of you and brings you back down. that voice in the back of your head, the one telling you that you’re just like your own dad, gets a little quieter.
your phone buzzes in the cup holder, and you pick it up.
joshua: you don’t have to tell me where you are, just lmk that you’re ok.
you: i’m okay.
you gnaw on your bottom lip, deciding that it’s time to go home. it’s past your daughters bedtime now, and you can guarantee that she’s already tucked in and asleep. at least you won’t have to deal with the both of them tonight.
on your way home, you pass a donut shop that is surprisingly open. you stop and quickly run in. the pastries surprisingly look fresh for 8pm, and order half a dozen of your daughters favorite (chocolate with sprinkles, and maple), before heading to the car to make your way home.
the stress of the day starts to weigh on you halfway home. the morning started out rough; joshua had to go into work early, so taking your daughter was your duty. from the moment you woke her up, she was in meltdown mode. you take the blame for rushing a seven year old, but you let her have juice in her lunch instead of the usual water, so you figured that it evened everything out. but then you were late from picking her up from the after school program she sometimes goes to if neither you nor joshua can pick her up, and she whined about it the whole way home. never mind the fact that your workday was filled with hour-long, unnecessary meetings.
you yawn as you pull into your neighborhood and up to your driveway. you stall in the car for a moment, looking at the dark house in front of you, save for the bright porch light. there’s a chance that joshua has gone to bed, but in your heart of hearts you know that he’s waiting up for you. deciding to just deal with your life, you grab the box of donuts and your belongings, and get out of the car.
you quietly make you way into the house, lightly shutting the front door and locking it behind you. just the sight of the kitchen makes you tense, and when you walk in you’re met with a clean kitchen table and floor, no signs of there ever being a previous mess. you put the donuts away in the fridge to keep them fresh.
with a sigh, you exit the kitchen and start up tje stairs, footsteps light just in case the stairs creak. you step into your bedroom with a quiet sigh, and shut the door. the light from the en suite bathroom shines through the cracked door, and you can hear joshua in there. grabbing some pajamas, you pull on a tshirt just as joshua comes into the room. “hey,” he says, voice soft.
“hi,” you tug the shirt over your head and toss your other clothing items into the hamper. he lingers near the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching you as you make yourself busy with little things.
“we need to talk about earlier,” joshua says. you don’t look up at him as you apply hand cream.
you take a moment before responding. “okay,” you breathe out, roughly massaging the lotion into your skin. you hear joshua shuffle on the other side of the room.
“you can’t yell at her like that,” joshua says gently. you sit up and stare across the room at a family photo, blinking a few times.
“i know. but i asked her six times to do something, and she still didn’t even do it. you need to let me discipline her,” you say, finally looking over at him. he uncrosses his arms to run a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh as he does.
“she’s just a baby.”
“she’s seven.”
“she’s a little girl, honey,” joshua says, like that changes anything. you two are usually on the same page when it comes to disciplining her, though she doesn’t really get disciplined because she’s an good kid. you thought he’d understand your frustration today, but he doesn’t and you feel like your back is against the wall.
the fight in you is gone, though a flicker or your earlier anger lights inside of you upon hearing him talk. “okay, and i shouldn’t have to tell her to do something six times. she should just do it the first time,” you say, looking at him pointedly. he pokes his tongue in his cheek, and you know he doesn’t agree with you and is holding back whatever he wants to say. “and, i don’t need you to step in when im trying to teach her something. you need to let me parent her.”
“are you implying that i don’t parent her?” he asks, head tilting to the side. you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow the frustrated groan at the back of your throat.
“i’m not implying anything. im telling you that you need to let me teach her things, without interrupting me. because she’s going to think that she can get out of everything if she looks at you,” you say. joshua purses his lips and looks down at his feet, nodding slowly. “you have to stop babying her, joshua.”
asking him to do that is like asking him to recolor the sky: it’s impossible. one look at her and his entire backbone shatters. it’s sweet sometimes, until you need him to enforce some rules.
“fine, alright? but you can’t yell at her like that. you heard how she cried afterwards,” he says, his voice less gentle than before. you blink at him and drag a hand down your face. you’re ready to put this conversation to bed—nothing feels like it’s going to get resolved tonight. “she was scared, baby. remember that night when i met your dad? she had that same look on her face.” your stomach drops at the memory.
the first time you let joshua meet your dad was also the last time he saw him, until your daughter was born. you were in college, and had only been dating joshua for a few months, but you felt so sure about him. he was the first person you felt so sure about, and it scared you, but you felt like in order for joshua to understand you and to love you, he had to meet your dad. he’d met everybody else in your family, but you were putting off him meeting your dad because of how your father is. the night started out fine, everybody was generally getting along with each other and joshua was fitting in. you were on edge, worried that something would happen so much so that you weren’t able to relax. you were running around trying to help your mom with the kitchen, be a good host to joshua, and avoid pissing off your dad.
and then it happened. you can hardly recall the reason now, since you’ve really tried to block it out of your memory, but you forgot a dish, or burned something that he wanted in particular, and he flipped out. you were in your twenties, so you didn’t have a problem standing up for yourself at that point. but because your new boyfriend was there, and it was humiliating that he was yelling at you like that in front of company, all you could do was cry. you begged him to stop with tears streaming down your face, begged him not to say things in front of joshua. he ignored your pleas as they only made him explode. joshua tried standing up for you, but your dad yelled at him too, claimed joshua was ‘disrespecting’ him, and told him to get out.
joshua left but took you with him. he kissed your mom and siblings goodbye, and whisked you out of the house. you were so embarrassed that you could hardly talk through the tears. you expected joshua to break up with you after that, and managed to ask if he was going to leave you. he stayed and proposed to you five months later, and you quietly eloped together, only a few of your friends knowing about it.
“i’m not like him,” you say, throat closing. joshua’s face falls and his features soften as your eyes well up with tears, already moving to walk over to you.
“no, you’re not,” he clarifies, sitting next to you on the bed and pulling you into his chest. you press your fists into your eyes and try to control your breathing while he softly rubs your back. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you.” joshua whispers, kissing your head as you tremble in his arms. he keeps his lips pressed to your hair and lets you fight the tears, never once letting go of you.
your eyes ache from pressing against them and you pull your hands away, sniffing and trying to pull yourself away from him. joshua only holds onto you tighter which makes your eyes well up again, and you can’t believe you’ve been brought to tears more times tonight than in the year so far. “i left,” you mumble weakly.
“you came back.”
“but i left.”
joshua pulls back enough to look down at you. you look up at him with sad eyes and he lets go of you to wipe your face. “and you came back. you’re nothing like him, baby. you’re a good mom, a good wife, and you care. you left, but you came back. water under the bridge,” he says, pushing your hair out of your face. you blink tears away as he peers down at you before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
“i love you. and im sorry,” you murmur, wiping under your eyes.
“i love you too, and we both have things to work on.”
you nod, and let him hold you until you eventually doze off, headache and all. you only wake up in the middle of the night because you’re uncomfortable, and move to your side of the bed. joshua still tugs you back into his chest and the two of you mange to stay that was until the morning.
when you wake, joshua is right behind you. he talks you down when you panic about facing your baby. “does she hate me?” you ask, wiping sleep out of your eyes.
“of course not,” he says, a small frown on his face. you want to tell him to wait until she’s a teenager, but he looks distraught enough at your question, so you just nod.
she’s asleep when you peek in her room, sprawled out on her small bed. you creep over quietly and kneel beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. she wakes up easily, stretching her short limbs before she opens her eyes. “mommy?” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes with a small yawn.
“hi, baby,” you say, smoothing a hand over her head. she looks up at you timidly, and your stomach knots. “did you sleep okay?” she nods and you give her a small smile. “mommy’s sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“it’s okay,” she says, sitting up. it’s not, but you’ll take her accepting your apology. “can i have a hug?” her voice is small, and makes you want to cry because she doesn’t have to ask you for that.
“of course, baby,” you say, wrapping yourself around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. your hold her for awhile, until she starts to struggle against you. “i got you something.” you say once you loosen your hold around her. her eyes light up and you smile, scooping her up and heading downstairs.
you pull the box of donuts out of the fridge snd she gasps when you open the lid. you let her have a whole donut for breakfast, and promise her half of one after dinner. you apologize again, and she tells you that it’s okay again. one day, you’ll let her know that she can’t just say ‘it’s okay’ whenever somebody apologizes, but for now you let it be.
766 notes · View notes
enwoso · 7 months ago
Note
grumpy universe where alessia gets sick and the girls step in to babysit and get her better
I’M OKAY — alessia russo x child!reader
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grumpy masterlist
it was tough being ill while having a child as long go the days where you could lie in bed all day with a bottle of ice cold water at your side as you slept the day away.
as instead alessia had not only herself to nurse back to full health but also had to still be a mother. almost like a superhero, be two things at once.
alessia had been feeling awful the past few days days,
she's gotten ill. her throat has never felt rougher and her head felt as though she was bashing it against a wall and her nose was blocked to the point she was having a hard time breathing through it.
and while she wished she could tucked up in bed. she couldn't.
not when she had a four year old running with buckets of energy all day which was definitely not helping alessia's pounding headache she’s had the past couple of days.
but alessia couldn't in no way fault you, your bundle of energy was actually slightly helping put a smile on the blondes face even though she felt rubbish.
"you ready lovie" alessia smiled as the two of you walked towards the training ground. your mummy trying to sound as enthusiastic as she could trying her best to put her illness to the back of her mind.
"yes! katie said she would play my game with me" you giggled as you kept ahold of your mummy's hand, you were talking about a children's card game which luca had gotten you and while the team was finishing up lunch you had spent the time explaining the game to katie who sounded genuinely very intrigued at the game you'd explained.
"oh that sound fun! don't let her beat you" your mummy grinned as your eyebrows furrowed as you firmly shook your head.
"never, nobody beat me at it" you stated proudly, as alessia hummed opening the door for you to walk in first. and to be fair to you, when you'd played the game with your uncles and your mummy you hadn't lost, but maybe that was because they didn't want to see your crushed little face if you lost.
walking into the canteen where most girls were having breakfast, you made a beeline straight for katie who was sat down with caitlin, teyah and beth. "katie, i got my game!" you called out.
alessia just let you make your run towards katie as truthfully she didn't have the energy in her to call you back over even though it was barely past nine am.
alessia slotted herself down on the next closest table, not looking who was there instead just sitting down. emily, lotte and leah who were sat at the table all looked at each other with a knowing look.
alessia was sat with her head in her hands, the bright lights were making her head pound even more and her throat felt as dry as a desert.
"less are you okay?" lotte asked with a wince, the three girls could clearly see something was up.
"yep!" alessia mumbled popping out the p as she sniffled, before a series of coughs came from the blonde. the sound of alessia's voice and the coughs coming from her totally contradicting what she'd just said.
"you sound sick?" emily said trying the more direct way as her eyebrows raised, worried for her fellow teammate but also her close friend.
"i'll be fine, y/n is my main focus" alessia grumbled as the blondes head turned to your direction seeing you smiling and playing your game with katie contently, teyah and beth even having a turn.
"less- i know tiny is important but you need to make sure your looking after your own health" leah told the blonde as alessia just waved her off another sniffle coming as she had a sip of water.
"no alessia im being serious, your a mess. i think you need to go home and spend the day in bed otherwise your not gonna be able to play properly" leah spoke in her serious tone which told alessia that leah was most definitely being serious.
alessia glanced over to lotte and emily who both had the same telling look while a sympathetic smile that told the blonde exactly what she needed to do and that was take leah's advice.
"but what about y/n?" alessia quickly got out but leah quickly came up with a solution.
"she can stay at mine" leah shrugged, you had stayed at leah's before so alessia knew she could trust leah but alessia didn't like you staying out especially when it wasn't exactly necessary.
"but-"
"alessia no more buts. you need to go home, make a full recovery, tiny can stay with me for the night if she wants, beth and viv are coming over to mine later anyway so you don't need to worry about her living off chicken nuggets" leah reassured as a deep sigh of defeat came from alessia as she nodded.
"sorted then!"
"lovie" alessia called you over, motioning with her hands as you looked towards katie, teyah and beth giving them strict orders to not touch the game otherwise that would be cheating as you slipped down from the table and made your way towards your mummy with a sweet smile on your face.
"lovie, mummy's going home now. but you gonna stay here with your aunties okay" your mummy told you as you nodded slowly, but you were slightly confused.
"why you going home?" you asked, holding onto the edge of the table as you swung your leg back and forth.
"cause mummy's poorly, and i feel really really sick" alessia pouted as you nodded understandingly as your mummy began to speak again.
"how would you feel staying at auntie lele's house tonight?" mummy asked cautiously, not wanting you to feel as though you had to but by the change in your face and the look of excitement in your smile, alessia had her answer.
"yes! yes! yes!"
"but you have to be on your best behaviour for leah and do as she tells you, just like you do for me okay" your mummy told you as you nodded your head promising your mummy.
"your always on your best behaviour aren't you tiny!" leah ruffled your head as you turned to nod at the blonde who had a big grin on her face.
"right, well mummy loves you and i'll see you tomorrow yeah" your mummy smiled as you hugged her tight before alessia placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you said goodbye to your mummy.
"less call if you need anything" lotte smiled as alessia nodded, wincing slightly as she stood her headache still not easing. you waving goodbye while blowing kisses as she left the training ground.
"lele can we have chocolate pizza for dinner tonight?" you asked with an innocent smile now that your mum wasn't in the room anymore.
you knowing all to well that your mummy wouldn't ever in a million years let you have that for dinner, so why not try your luck somewhere else and after all at least that would have less room for mistake considering leah wasn't the best in a kitchen setting.
"aye let's not push our luck tiny!" leah laughed before you sighed taking that as a no before remembering about your game with katie.
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foreignjaykay · 23 days ago
Text
company (a jungkook fic)
part one - "you wish i'd miss you,"
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company - a jungkook fic
can we keep each other company?
their workplace was chaos, but jungkook made it fun. their camaraderie was effortless—until he decided to leave. no big deal. people quit all the time. so why does it feel like everything is about to change?
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!
chapter warnings/misc: workplace!au, coworkers!au, event planner!jk, event planner!oc, jk is not famous, angst, fluff, sad, crack, event planner!mingyu, bts in event planning company, unserious friend group, they are so silly and unserious, mean boss - yeah no she sucks, ANGST, IDIOTS both of them, yeah i guess thats it...for now hehe
notes: hello everyone!!! hehe its my first fic on tumblr and my first ever jk fic so i really hope you guys like it. im writing after so many years so please ignore mistakes eh. its kinda based on my personal experiences. things will only get interesting as this fic progresses.. lots of new characters will come in the next chapter! this fic will honestly pick up its pace from the second chapter!! anywho lets get into it!! <3
moodboard • playlist • series masterlist
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The first thing you saw when you unlocked your phone this morning was a text from Jungkook. That in itself was weird—he wasn’t the type to be up this early, let alone texting people.
jaykay (work) [8:50am]: hi :)
you [8:50am]: oh my god. what did you forget?
jaykay (work)  [8:51am]: have some faith in me. i was texting for something entirely different. 😒
you[8:51am]: are you sick? held hostage? blink twice if you need help.
jaykay (work) [8:52am]: how da hell are u so dramatic in the morning
you [8:52am]: come to the point jungkook
jaykay [8:52am]: fine. 🙄 don’t bring lunch today
you [8:53am]: why?
jaykay (work) [8:53am]: lunch is on me. taking you, shane and mingyu out for ramen
you [8:53am]: 🤨🤨🤨
jaykay (work) [8:54am]: see you in office🥰
You squinted at the screen, trying to process the words through your morning haze. This man barely made it to work before noon on most days, always breezing in with an iced americano and a sheepish grin. And yet here he was, awake and making lunch plans at 9 AM? Suspicious. Very suspicious.
It’s fixed, you know? Him being late to work, getting sarcastic remarks from the bosses - Natasha, the reporting manager (god did she love micromanaging the team) and Kim Song, the director of your company.
But whatever, free ramen was free ramen and, on that note, you finally woke up and went to get ready for the weird day that was ahead of you.
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By the time you got to the office, the usual chaos had already begun. Natasha, wasn’t physically present today, thank the lord for that, you thought, but her presence loomed over Zoom calls like a dark cloud. You had barely set down her bag before her laptop screen lit up with an incoming call. Does this woman ever chill?
“Good morning, team,” Natasha’s clipped voice rang out as the screen loaded. “Let’s go over the deliverables for today.” Her screen was hidden and she was on a holiday like she had very explicitly mentioned the week before she left.
You suppressed a groan as you saw Jungkook and Mingyu joining the call too. Shane, their CS intern, looked half-asleep. Jungkook, though, was oddly quiet, his usual playful banter nowhere to be seen. His leg bounced under the desk, fingers drumming against the tabletop.
You shot him a look, but he didn’t meet your eyes.
Okay that was weird, wasn’t it?
You looked towards Mingyu and Shane to see if they noticed Jungkook being a little off today but to your surprise they were engrossed on what Natasha was instructing on the upcoming event which was the luxurious Cartier dinner.
Classic Natasha, putting her work on us while she sips on pina coladas on the beach after this 10-minute meeting. You wanted to be as carefree as her sometimes, how easily she just threw her tasks on others.
Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jungkook which thankfully he didn’t notice.
Or at least that’s what you thought.
Jungkook knew you. He knew how curious you got sometimes and he also knew currently the wheels were turning in your head wondering why he was being so awkward. He smiled internally, thinking how much you knew him and how much he was going to miss you.
If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to crack. He just hoped you wouldn’t figure it out before he told you himself.
Once the meeting was over, you quickly went towards the design studio in the office, greeting Yuna and So-hee who seemed like had just come to office with the way they were switching on their systems for the day.
“I really need the final design renders for the stage setup and the seating plan for Cartier, Yuna,” You said worried knowing that if you don’t get these renders in next half an hour then the costing would delay and then Natasha…yeah no.
Its as if Jungkook got a sign, he entered the design studio greeting Yuna, So-hee, and Dae and standing next to you as if to ease the tension you had going on.
“Babe, give me 10 minutes, the renders are ready. I’ll email it to you, Natasha and Namjoon,” Yuna said as she started working on her system. You nodded your head and gave her a worried smile.
“Mark me in the email too,” Jungkook said instantly and you gave him a pointed look. Yuna seemed to mirror your thoughts and raised her eyebrows towards him.
Seeing that you both were confused, Jungkook chuckles and says, “__, you should be happy that I am willingly asking to be marked on emails,” which makes you roll your eyes playfully and smirk.
“Also, I don’t have nothing big going on currently, project wise, so I’ll follow up for the costings and Natasha will stay away from my ass,” Jungkook continues and laughs with Yuna, So-hee and Dae.
You looked at him as he was sort of back in his carefree self but something still felt off. You just couldn’t put your finger on what this feeling was.
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Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. The second Natasha’s second call for the day wrapped up the call, you shut your laptop and turned towards Jungkook who along with Mingyu and Shane was joking and was waiting for you to get done.
“Okay, spill. What’s with the mystery since today morning?” You immediately asked him and he couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.
Mingyu slung an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, dude. You’re making me nervous.”
Shane, ever the observer, just raised a brow. “Is this about work? God I can’t wait to dig into some good ramen after hearing Natasha ramble since past 15 mins. 15 mins with her feel like 2 hours,” Shane continued rambling earning laughs from the three of you.
Jungkook let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just get to lunch first.”
That didn’t help your growing suspicion, but you let it slide—at least until the 4 of you reached the ramen place.
The aroma of rich broth and sizzling garlic filled the tiny ramen shop. Shane and Mingyu were already practically vibrating with hunger, menus discarded, ready to order. You, however, were still scanning the options, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. Just as you were about to decide, you and Jungkook spoke in unison: “Japchae.”
A surprised laugh bubbled up. “You wanna have japchae too?” you asked, a little thrill of connection sparking despite the weirdness of the morning. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, and ordered for both of you.
Minutes later, steaming bowls of ramen and the shared plate of japchae arrived. The savory scent made your mouth water. You took a tentative bite of the japchae, the noodles perfectly chewy, the vegetables crisp and flavorful. It was delicious. But Jungkook just sat there, chopsticks hovering over his bowl. He had a strange expression—not quite annoyed, but… something. You knew that look. It was his tell when food was exceptionally good. That’s just his weird trait.
You took the second bite yourself to see if it was and it was really good.
“I got another job.”
Silence.
Your stomach dropped.
Then, Mingyu blinked. “Wait, what?”
Jungkook shifted in his seat, avoiding their gazes. “I got an offer from an event company. They handle production for A-list musicians—concerts, world tours, all of it.” But you could see how proud he was. This was his dream.
“Oh, shit, that’s huge,” Shane said, eyes wide and dramatically keeping his chopsticks on the side.
Jungkook looked at you trying to gauge for your reaction.
You swallowed, gripping your chopsticks a little tighter. “Wow. That’s… incredible, Jungkook.” You said genuinely but why did it feel so off? Why did it feel like you were losing everything? People leave jobs all the time and this is no different, so why was it feeling all to different suddenly?
When you congratulated him, you meant it. You really did. He deserved this. But there was a weird, hollow feeling in your chest. Something tight that you couldn’t quite name.
Jungkook was watching you and asked, “You okay?”
You forced a smile but to everyone it looked genuine. “Of course. This is a big deal. I am so happy for you, Jungkook!” Mingyu and Shane mirrored your smile and congratulated him to which Jungkook threw an honest smile.
His eyes still lingered for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to his food. But you could tell he didn’t fully believe you.
Mingyu and Shane immediately started asking him the questions about his new company and the new job and Jungkook excitedly answered them all and you were interested too to know all the details.
Once the 4 of you were done with the lunch, you asked him, “So when are you telling Natasha?”
“Next week, and then 2 weeks’ notice,” He said looking at you as if he was trying to find an emotion out of you.
“Damn bro, you are leaving us so soon.” Shane said and you looked at Jungkook.
“Now at least I will have some proper desk space at the office,” You tried to joke which earned you a playful eye roll from Jungkook.
“Oh my god, I have to plan a farewell party for you now,” Mingyu joked and you laughed. For the whole lunch, this is the first time Jungkook noticed you genuinely smiling and it was all thanks to Mingyu’s dramatic nature.
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The rest of the workday felt strangely off-balance. Even though nothing had technically changed yet, you felt the weight of the upcoming shift pressing down on you. The knowledge that soon, Jungkook wouldn’t be here anymore—wouldn’t be there to roll his eyes at Natasha’s ridiculous demands, wouldn’t be crashing at her desk with an iced coffee and a new piece of gossip, wouldn’t be around to share those unspoken glances when things got too absurd.
You had started hating how much that realization unsettled you.
It was Jungkook who got you out of your dazed thoughts when he said, “___, I have asked Namjoon hyung for the Cartier costing and he is working on it,”
You threw a sincere smile towards him and nodded while he went back on his desk and worked on some small projects he had going on.
gyu (work) [3pm]: are you okay?
Once you read the text, you immediately looked at him but he acted to be so engrossed in his work and you couldn’t help but look back into your phone and text back
you [3:01pm]: yeah, why?
gyu (work) [3:01pm]: you sure about that? ever since jk dropped that bomb, you have been quiet and so has he.
That got your attention. Were you that obvious?
you [3:02pm]: no nothing like that. im happy that he got this. he deserves it!! also when is the blue label bottle engraving costing going to the client? natasha has been on my ass about it since morning. send it asap please <33
gyu [3:03pm]: girl i gotta give it to you, nice attempt to change the convo but we aren’t done yet. ugh why are you my senior? im sending it in 5
By the time the day ended and finally the costings for Cartier had gone out (thanks to Jungkook and Joon), you had convinced yourself you were just being dramatic. People left jobs all the time. This wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal.
Mingyu and Shane had already left for the day and the design studio was also empty leaving only you and Jungkook in the client servicing department. For a Monday, people had left earlier than usual, you thought to yourself.
You looked at the clock and saw it was 7pm already.
While you packed your bags, like routine, Jungkook waited for you. He dropped you home everyday given that you both lived nearby and your apartment came on the way to his.
However, the silence between the two of you felt heavier than usual.
“You’re quiet,” he finally said as the two of you entered the elevator.
You forced a laugh and adjusted your purse, trying to look anywhere but at him. “So are you.”
The two of you exited the elevator and sat in his car, he started the engine. For the first time ever, the silence between the two of you was uncomfortable.
Jungkook sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he took the familiar route and said, “Are you really happy for me?”
You immediately turned to look at him, meeting his gaze in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Yes, I am. Why would you think I am not?”
His smile was small, a little sad. “Alright. You and I haven’t spoken much since lunch,”
You didn’t know why, but something in your chest ached at that. But you ignored it,  and looking towards and giving him a smile and said, “Jungkook, I am so happy for you. I am. I know you wanted this and now you have it,”
For the first time in the whole day, he smiled genuinely at you.
“Will you miss me?,” He asked as he stopped the car right out of your apartment and looked at you with his doe eyes that carry the sta-
Wait what?!
You ignored whatever that thought was and quickly composed yourself and laughed at him. “You wish I would miss you,” You joked playfully and he rolled his eyes.
“On a serious note, yes I will. Who will I tolerate Natasha with?” You continued and he let out a small chuckle.
“Anyway I have to go. See you tomorrow boss,” you finally said, and then you were gone, disappearing into the building.
Jungkook sat there for a moment, staring after you.
He knew you better than you thought. He knew when you were genuinely happy, when you were just pretending, when you were holding back something you didn’t want to say. And tonight, you were definitely holding back.
Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the car seat. Leaving this job was supposed to be exciting, a step up, an opportunity of a lifetime. And it was.
But why did it feel like he was losing something, too?
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part 2
© foreignjaykay
179 notes · View notes
heartsbyani · 1 month ago
Text
𝒾𝒾𝒾 ⁞ AS WE ARE “𝑎 𝑏𝘰𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑠𝑎𝜈𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝘰𝑛𝑙𝑦.” ── hang out. libraries. kids. food. turns out, baseball guy isn't only a baseball guy..?
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prev. | index | next ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader :( 𝒾 )9.1k── ༯ SERIES uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, slight angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/has mixed ethnicity, angsty, humour. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི
yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ a month and 5 days to the last update of this fic omg !!!!! yes it is finally here and it's very long. IM SORRY but i love this chapter sm im actually so proud of myself with this :3 hope you all like it !! <3 i love seungmin sm guys, pls tag me if you find any good seungmo fics mwah. also when i posted the last chapter, i had only crossed 300 followers. right now, as of when im posting this, i actually just passed 600 of you, oh my god. in a span of 36 days, thank you so much to every single one of you ! this really motivates me a lot :(( i am also posting the requested fics soon loves, please be patient !!! comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3
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the sun hung low in the sky, its warm rays stretching lazily over the quiet baseball field. a faint breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees, carrying with it the distant hum of voices from the university festival on the other side of town.
y/n strolled across the usual field with her usual carefree stride, her satchel slung over one shoulder and a grande paper cup of peach tea in her hand. her gaze caught a familiar figure, who she may have been hoping to find.
he stood on the pitcher’s mound, his cap pulled low over his face as usual, a baseball gripped loosely in his hand. his focus was sharp, his movements practiced and fluid as he wound up and pitched the ball toward the net. the satisfying smack of the ball hitting its target echoed across the empty field.
she paused for a moment, watching him. he looked so at ease here, like the field was an extension of himself. she smiled to herself before calling out, “practicing alone again?”
seungmin turned at the sound of her voice, his expression softening slightly when he saw her. “car girl, again,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
she rolled her eyes at the nickname, though she couldn’t help but smile. “that nickname is never going away, is it?”
“not a chance,” he said, turning back to the net and throwing another pitch.
she began teasingly, walking closer to the netted boundary of the field. “so, has this time now become your usual or are you just excited to see your new friend everyday now?”
he shrugged, tossing the ball idly in one hand. “don't flatter yourself, maybe it's because i'm actually bored for once.”
“oh well, didn't hurt to try,” she laughed softly, the sound light and warm like the breeze that rustled the trees surrounding the field. she stopped a few feet away from him, crossing her arms as she watched the ball sail cleanly into the net. “your friends aren't here today?”
“nope,” he replied, brushing a bit of dirt off his palm. “they’re at some event thing on campus. didn’t feel like going.”
“why not?” she asked, genuinely curious.
he shrugged, retrieving another ball from the bucket nearby. “not my scene.”
she tilted her head, a teasing smile on her lips. “you say that about a lot of things.”
“that’s because it’s true about a lot of things,”
“so, instead of loud festivals, you decided to spend your evening throwing balls alone?”
“better than standing around pretending to have fun,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk as he pitched the ball again.
“you really do have a grumpy streak, don’t you?”
“i’m not grumpy,” he shot back, catching the ball as it rebounded off the glove.
“you keep saying that,” she said, her voice light with amusement. “but i’m not convinced.”
seungmin glanced at her, shaking his head. “you talk too much.”
“again, only because you talk too little,” she countered easily, her grin widening.
he let out a soft huff—somewhere between a sigh and a laugh—before walking over to grab the ball again. this time, instead of pitching, he sat down on the grass near her, resting his elbows on his knees.
she blinked in mild surprise but quickly recovered, sitting up straighter. “taking a break?”
“something like that,” he said, spinning the ball absently in his hands.
“so,” she began, tucking her legs beneath her and leaning forward slightly. “if you don’t like festivals or loud places, what do you like?”
he gave her a sidelong glance, as if deciding whether to answer. “quiet places. like the library.”
“oh, so you did like the library,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.
he shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “i liked that it was quiet.”
“and because it had me,” she joked, “and what else? besides quiet places?”
he was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the horizon where the sun hung low, casting long shadows across the field. “baseball,” he said eventually. “obviously.”
“obviously,” she echoed with a playful smile. “what else?”
“you’re really nosy,” he said, though his tone lacked any real bite.
“i prefer ‘curious,’” she said with a shrug. “come on, there’s gotta be more to you than baseball and quiet places.”
he didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, she thought he might not answer at all. but then he said, almost reluctantly, “music.”
her eyes lit up. “really? what kind?”
“depends,” he said, turning the ball in his hands. “mostly calm stuff. acoustic, sometimes jazz.”
“same!” she said excitedly, leaning forward. “do you play anything?”
he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “guitar. a little, a friend is helping me.”
“seriously?” she asked, her excitement growing. “that’s really cool. i tried to play piano in elementary.. but let's just say i'm not too good with two hands and multitasking.”
"well, guess it’s a good thing breathing only takes one set of lungs."
“you're mean.”
“i prefer honest.”
“what about singing?” she asked again, her voice softer now.
he raised an eyebrow. “what about it?”
“do you sing?”
he shook his head. “not really.”
“not really or not at all?”
“not at all,” he said firmly, though there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
“hm, interesting.” she mumbled under her breath, as he looked at her for a bit, and then stood up, dusting the dirt off his tracks and walking back to the field.
“so, what’s your plan? just… keep throwing balls at a net until sunset?”
“pretty much,” he said, glancing at her. “unless you’ve got a better idea.”
“are you admitting to wanting to be in my company?”
“no, i'm simply taking your offer from yesterday. you know, if i ever need help venturing around.”
“oh, did i say that?”
“you compared yourself to dor-”
“it's a rhetorical question!” her cheeks warmed up, at the realisation of her random 'boldness' from the previous day.
“but.. fair enough,” she shrugged, “in that case, i might have a better idea or a few.” she said, her grin widening mischievously.
he raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but willing to entertain her suggestion. “oh yeah? let’s hear it.”
“well, it’s not much of a plan yet,” she admitted, resting her chin on her knees. “but you could hang out with your beloved library-worker-plus-her-who's-mysteriously-at-the-field-every-day-now-turned-friend, later. you know, after you’re done being all serious and athletic.”
he paused, the ball in his hand, and looked at her fully for a moment. “hang out?”
“yeah,” she said casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “you’re bored and free, i’m bored and free… why not?”
he considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “you’re pretty straightforward, you know that?”
she grinned, unfazed. “pretty? check. straightforward? definitely check. so yeah, what do you say?”
“i’ll think about it,” he said, turning back to the net.
“wow,” she said, pretending to be offended. “that’s the most noncommittal answer and rejection i’ve ever heard.”
he smirked slightly, not looking at her. “better than a no.”
“fine.” she said with a shrug, leaning back on her hands.
they fell into a comfortable silence after that, the rhythmic thwack of the ball hitting the net filling the air. the sun hung lower in the sky now, casting long shadows across the field and painting everything in shades of gold and orange.
eventually, the guy had straightened up, stretching his arms over his head. He glanced over at y/n, who was still sitting in the grass, absentmindedly twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she watched the sky.
“you’re still here,” he said, his tone more surprised than accusatory.
“oh you're done!” she replied, smiling up at him. “and yeah, of course, i was waiting for your answer.”
he shook his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “you're not gonna leave unless i say no, are you?”
“glad to know you're catching up! but i know you were never gonna say no, if you had a choice too.” her face lit up instantly, her grin so bright it could’ve rivaled the setting sun. “i promise i won’t be too annoying, by the way.”
“somehow, i don’t believe that,” he said, though there was no real bite to his words.
she laughed, springing to her feet and brushing the grass off her skirt. “you’ll survive. come on, let’s go, baseball boy.”
he rolled his eyes but followed her off the field, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on his lips.
“call me a creep,” she said with a grin, glancing back at him as he tried to catch up with her. “but i did see a messy stack of crumpled music sheets under your backpack the other day. so i know you're not good at lying.”
seungmin froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. he stopped walking, turning his head slowly to look at her with a mixture of suspicion and amusement.
“you what?” he asked, voice laced with disbelief but not quite sharp.
y/n stopped a few paces ahead of him, spinning around to face him with an innocent shrug and a playful grin. “you heard me.” she leaned slightly toward him as if to emphasize her point.
he blinked at her, “you really are a creep.”
“hey!” she exclaimed, laughing as she placed a hand over her chest in mock offense. “i wasn’t snooping or anything. i just.. happened to see it while you were busy.”
“you just happened to notice crumpled music sheets under my backpack? that’s oddly specific.”
“call it observational skills,” she said matter-of-factly, tilting her head as she smiled at him again. “besides, you’re dodging the point.”
“which is?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“you’re not good at lying,” she said, her tone teasing but her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “you said you didn’t play anything? but clearly, you’ve got something going on with music.”
he stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. she could tell he was debating whether or not to admit anything. finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked off to the side while they walked slower.
“it’s not a big deal,” he muttered, his voice quieter now.
she raised an eyebrow, her grin softening into something more genuine. “clearly, it’s a big enough deal that you’re hiding it.”
“it’s just.. something i mess around with sometimes,” he said, still avoiding her gaze. “nothing serious.”
“mess around with?” she echoed, “like ..writing? playing? singing?”
“all of the above,” he admitted reluctantly, his voice barely audible.
“that's really cool, you know.”
“it’s not,” he said quickly, looking genuinely embarrassed now. “it’s just something i do when i’m bored.”
“doesn’t matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “it’s still cool. and honestly, it makes so much sense now.”
“what does?”
“why you’re so good at reading people,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “music’s all about emotions, right? you must have a knack for it.”
he blinked at her, clearly caught off guard by her logic. “…that’s a stretch.”
“is it?” she asked, tilting her head as she looked at him again. “come on, admit it. you’re secretly a genius, aren’t you?”
he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint flush on his cheeks now, barely visible in the dimming light. “you’re really weird, you know that?”
“and you’re really deflecting,” she said, grinning as she nudged his arm with her shoulder.
silence. the field was quiet, as the pair finally exited through the rusty old gates.
“i’m not hiding it or anything,” he said after a long pause. “it’s just something i don’t really talk about. that’s all.”
she nodded, her smile softening into something more understanding. “i get it. but for the record, i think it's a great hobby. you don’t have to hide it around me.”
he glanced at her then, his expression unreadable for a moment before he let out a quiet chuckle.
the walk was simple. the quiet of the small town wrapping around them like a warm blanket. the golden-orange glow of streetlights lit up the pathway in patches, casting soft shadows as the two strolled side by side. the occasional passerby—an older man walking his dog or a young couple holding hands—added a gentle hum of life to the evening, but it was mostly just the two of them.
y/n kicked at a stray pebble on the sidewalk, the sound of it skittering ahead breaking the silence. she looked over at seungmin, who was walking with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed but his face unreadable.
“you walk like you have all the time in the world.”
he raised an eyebrow at her. “and you walk like you’re about to challenge someone to a race.”
“funny you should say that,” she grinned, already picking up her pace. “because i was just thinking—”
“y/n, no,” he said immediately, his tone flat but his eyes narrowing as if he already knew where this was going.
“oh, come on!” she laughed, already a few steps ahead of him now. she spun around to face him, walking backward as she pointed toward the distant outline of the bus stop up ahead. “race you to the bus stop. loser owes the winner a snack!”
“i’m not racing you,” he said, shaking his head.
“scared you’ll lose?” she taunted, her grin widening.
he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “considering i'm the least athletic, y-” he mumbled to himself.
“fine,” she said, throwing her hands up dramatically. “guess i’ll just win by default, then!”
with that, she turned and took off, her laughter trailing behind her as she sprinted toward the bus stop.
seungmin stood there for a second, watching her with an incredulous look before muttering under his breath, “unbelievable.” despite himself, he started jogging after her, his strides quickly closing the gap between them.
she reached the bus stop just a second before him, her chest heaving as she laughed and turned to face him. “looks like you owe me—”
“nothing,” he interrupted, standing just a few feet away, barely out of breath. “you cheated.”
“what?” she exclaimed, her hands flying to her hips. “how did i cheat?”
“you gave yourself a head start,”
“excuses, excuses,” she said, waving him off as she leaned against the bus stop pole. “a loss is a loss, seungmin.”
before he could reply, the bus pulled up, its headlights cutting through the dim light. the doors hissed open, and y/n wasted no time, darting inside with the same energy as before. “i call the window seat!” she called over her shoulder.
seungmin followed her at a more relaxed pace, shaking his head. “you’re a child,” he muttered as he climbed the steps.
“aren't we all?”
inside, the bus was mostly empty, save for a small group of middle schoolers sitting near the front. they were chatting animatedly, their voices a mix of excitement and laughter. she had already claimed her spot by the window, her bag plopped down on her lap as she looked out at the darkening sky.
“don’t just stand there,” she said, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “sit.”
he sighed, sliding into the seat beside her. “you’re really full of energy today.”
“always am,” she replied cheerfully, leaning her head against the window as the bus started moving.
the middle schoolers noticed them then, their curious eyes flicking toward the older pair. one of the boys leaned forward, his face lighting up as he addressed the girl. “are you guys dating?”
seungmin nearly choked on his own breath, his head snapping toward the kid in disbelief.
y/n, however, paused, then shaking her head and senses back. “we’re friends.”
“really?” the boy asked, tilting his head. “you look like you’re dating.”
“we’re not,” seungmin said firmly, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.
another girl from the group leaned in, grinning. “but you’d make a cute couple!”
“i swear, all kids this age only talk about crushes and dating..” he mumbled silently.
“see?” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “even kids think we’re cute together.”
“don’t encourage them.”
she laughed again, turning back to the kids. “what about you guys? why are you out so late?”
“we had cram school,” one of them replied, his tone dramatic. “it’s the worst.”
y/n gasped in mock horror, clasping her hands together. “cram school? at your age? you poor things.”
the kids laughed, clearly enjoying her playful energy. “do you go to uni?” one of the girls asked.
“yup,” she said, nodding. “and i work part-time at the library, too. it’s fun, but uni is… a lot.”
“you work at a library?” the boy from earlier asked. “that’s so cool!”
“not as cool as you think,” she said with a wink. “but it has its moments.”
as the conversation continued, seungmin found himself watching her more than he intended to. the way her eyes lit up as she talked to the kids, the easy way she laughed and made them feel comfortable—it was… nice. she had this warmth about her, this effortless ability to make people smile.
he didn’t realize he was staring until one of the kids pointed at him. “what about you, mister? what do you do?”
“baseball,” he said simply, his gaze flicking away from her as he addressed the group.
“whoa, really? are you on a team?”
“not really an official one,” he said, his tone calm but polite. “but it's with my uni friends.”
“that’s so cool!” the kids chorused, their admiration genuine.
“looks like you’ve got some fans.”
he rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“absolutely,”
as the bus continued down the quiet streets, the group fell into a comfortable rhythm, the kids’ chatter filling the space. and though seungmin wasn’t much of a talker, he found himself joining in, answering their questions and even cracking a joke or two.
she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her smile softening as she watched him interact with the kids. for someone who claimed to be reserved, he had a way of connecting with people when he let his guard down.
by the time the bus reached their stop, the middle schoolers waved goodbye with big smiles, their energy still high.
“see you around!” one of them called as they hopped off.
“bye!” y/n had replied, waving back enthusiastically.
as the two of them stepped off the bus, the quiet of the town greeted them once more. she stretched her arms above her head, a content sigh escaping her lips. “come on,” she skipped quickly.
“so,” seungmin said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and giving her a skeptical look. “where exactly are we going? you never actually said. are you sure you’re not kidnapping me?”
“if i were kidnapping you, wouldn’t i have tied you up and thrown you in the bus trunk or something?”
he tilted his head, pretending to think. “you’ve clearly never kidnapped anyone before. that’s not how it works.”
“oh, you’re an expert now?” she shot back, her grin widening as she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“i’ve watched enough movies to know you’re doing it wrong,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching upward.
“good to know.” she gave him a mock salute before skipping a little farther down the street. “come on! i know a great street food cart around here. you’re not afraid of trying new things, are you?”
he raised an eyebrow as he followed her. “i think i’ll survive. lead the way, sunshine.”
they stopped at a small street food cart nestled on a quiet corner, the warm smell of grilled meat and savory spices filling the air. a cheerful elderly vendor greeted them with a smile, his weathered hands busy flipping skewers on the grill. the small counter was lined with colorful condiments, sauces, and steaming bowls of rice.
“ah, young love!” the vendor teased as they approached. “out for a date, y/n?”
y/n's cheeks flushed, but she recovered quickly, laughing as she leaned her elbows on the counter. “not a date. just two people enjoying good food.”
“hmm, that’s what they all say,” the man said with a wink, handing her a menu.
seungmin sighed, shaking his head. “we’re not—”
“shh,” she interrupted, whispering, nudging him with her elbow. “let the man think what he wants. who knows, we might even get a discount.”
he gave her a look but didn’t argue, instead glancing at the menu she was holding. “what’s good here?”
“everything,” she said with a grin, handing it to him. “but if i had to pick, the japchae and chicken skewers are my favorites.”
he nodded, ordering exactly what she suggested while y/n added a few other things to their order. as they waited, she leaned back against the cart, looking up at the star-dotted sky.
“you’re not from around here, are you?” seungmin asked suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.
she shook her head, still gazing upward. “nope.. well not exactly. had to move here after elementary. my grandparents live here, though. i’ve been staying with them.”
“must be nice,” he said, his tone soft. “having family nearby.”
she smiled at that, turning to face him. “yeah. they’re great. super nosy, though. if they knew i was out with you right now, they’d probably be interrogating me over dinner later.”
“oh, so i’m a topic of conversation now?” he teased, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
“only because they’re obsessed with matchmaking,” she replied, rolling her eyes fondly. “they're caring, though. they just.. want me to be happy.”
he studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “you seem happy.”
“i try to be,” she said simply, her voice quiet but steady, though there was an unfamiliar flicker in her eyes as she blinked it away. “life’s too short not to find little things to smile about, you know?”
before he could respond, the vendor handed them their food, and y/n immediately brightened, clapping her hands together. “perfect timing! let’s eat.”
they found a bench nearby, the soft glow of a lamppost casting a golden halo over their little spot. she handed him his share of the food before digging into her own, her face lighting up with every bite.
“this is so good,” she said around a mouthful of cold noodles, earning a laugh from seungmin.
“you’ve got sauce on your face,” he pointed out, gesturing to the corner of his own mouth.
“where?” she asked, swiping at her face with her sleeve.
“other side,” he said, leaning forward slightly. when she still missed it, he sighed, pulling a napkin from the bag and reaching over to wipe it off himself. “honestly, you’re worse than a kid.”
she froze for a second, her cheeks warming as his fingers brushed her skin. “thanks,” she mumbled, her voice softer than usual.
he pulled back quickly, clearing his throat as he sat up straighter. “you’re welcome.”
they ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the town around them—distant conversations, the hum of passing cars—filling the gaps. every now and then, seungmin would glance at her out of the corner of his eye, watching the way her face lit up as she talked about her favorite foods or how she waved enthusiastically at strangers passing by.
“you’re really… outgoing,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful.
“is that a bad thing?”
“no,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “it’s just.. different. in a good way.”
her smile softened, and she looked down at her hands. “thanks. i think?”
he shrugged, taking another bite of his food. “don’t let it go to your head.”
she laughed, the sound light and musical, and he found himself smiling despite himself. for someone so different from him, she was surprisingly easy to be around.
she leaned back on the bench, her chopsticks idly stirring the remaining japchae sauce in her container. her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she turned toward seungmin, who was quietly munching on a chicken skewer.
“so,” she began, her tone playful yet pointed. “you said you did play the guitar right?”
he paused mid-bite, his brows furrowing slightly as he glanced at her. “why does it sound like an interrogation?”
“because it is,” she replied, grinning. “i mean, you didn’t mention it until i asked you. oh and what’s the deal with the music sheets under your backpack the other day? planning to start a band or something?”
he huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “hardly. i’m just.. messing around. nothing serious.”
“messing around?” she echoed, her head tilting slightly as she scrutinized him. “come on, min. you don’t just carry music sheets around for no reason. what are you working on?”
he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze by focusing on the skewer in his hand. “i’m not working on anything. i just play a little when i have time. that’s all.”
she squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. “you’re being suspiciously vague.”
“maybe because there’s nothing more to say,” he countered, raising an eyebrow at her.
“oh, there’s definitely more to say,” she retorted, leaning closer as if trying to read his expression better. “do you write songs? or are you just playing covers? be honest—are you secretly a rockstar?”
he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “definitely not a rockstar. and no, i’m not writing songs. i barely know enough to play properly as it is.”
“barely know enough?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “you strike me as the type who’d quietly get really good at something and then pretend you’re just ‘okay’ at it.”
he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “i’m really not that good. i’m just learning the basics. chords, strumming patterns, that kind of stuff.”
“that’s still cool,” she said earnestly, her face softening. “everyone starts somewhere. are you teaching yourself?”
“yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i found an old guitar in the storage room at home and thought i’d give it a try. it’s.. relaxing.”
she smiled at that, leaning back against the bench. “music is good for that. it’s like.. this little world you can escape to, you know?”
“music is.. kind of magic, don’t you think?” she said, her voice tinged with awe. “like, it’s not just sounds. it’s emotion. it’s stories. it’s—” she paused, searching for the right word, “—connection. you can listen to a song in a language you don’t even understand, and still feel it. isn’t that amazing? like, how can a few notes and some words make you feel like that?”
she tilted her head back, staring up at the sky as she continued, her voice softening but growing no less passionate. “and it’s not just the big, dramatic moments, either. it’s the little ones, like how a single chord can make your chest ache, or how a melody can take you back to a memory you thought you’d forgotten. it’s so… alive. like it has this way of pulling you in, making you feel something you didn’t even know you were missing.”
he had just been listening, watching her as she spoke, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“and it’s so personal,” she said, her voice quieter now. “everyone has their own song, you know? something that feels like it’s just for them, like it knows them in a way no one else does. that’s what i love about it. music isn’t just one thing. it’s so many things, all at once. it’s chaos and comfort and beauty and sadness. it’s… everything.”
she exhaled, a small, almost sheepish smile crossing her face as she looked at him. “sorry, i’m rambling. i just—when i think about it, i can’t help it. it’s like… music’s the closest thing we have to magic.”
he glanced at her, surprised by how sincere she sounded. it was quiet for a moment, until he spoke. “do you?”
“hm?” that had gotten her attention, though the air felt slightly thicker now.
“i mean, you said earlier that you can't multitask. despite how hard i find it to believe- what i meant to ask was if you sang.. or tried playing after that or not.”
the girl only shifted her gaze and paused for a bit, exhaling as she smiled briefly again, “i did, try to play the guitar, in middle school. but i just kinda gave up after that,” she chuckled awkwardly. “and as for singing? i just hum here and there, but nothing professional or serious.”
“the way you talk about it says otherwise.”
“how do i talk about it?”
he tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her shift slightly in her seat. then, he smiled, soft and a little disbelieving, as if he couldn’t quite figure her out.
“you talk about it like it’s your whole world,” he started, his voice quieter, almost reflective. “like, when you mentioned music, your tone changed. it’s.. different. it’s not just words with you — it’s like your entire energy shifts. you sound so.. alive. like you’re describing something that’s a part of you, something you feel in your bones.”
he paused, glancing down at his hands as if he were trying to piece the rest together. “it’s in the way you look when you talk about it, too. you get this light in your eyes, like you’re remembering something important. like you’re somewhere else entirely—like music isn’t just something you like. it’s something you need. like it’s this space where nothing else matters, you know? like it’s a place that’s just yours.”
she blinked, caught off guard by the weight of his words. he ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat as though realizing how much he’d said. but then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he continued, his gaze locking onto hers again.
his words hung in the air, heavy and quiet, as if they were something fragile. “am i wrong?” he asked finally, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced that he could be.
“for a baseball guy you're quite the poet.”
“that's not an answer.”
“i didn't mean to answer.”
“well?”
“well what?”
“am i?”
“you're not wrong. but music is just something.. i adore. like everyone else! that's all that there is to it.” she pursed her lips, getting up with the wooden bowl that was once full of japchae, to walk to the stall again and hand it to the man with a smile. seungmin followed shortly after, feeling slightly curious but he shook it off.
“seungmin!” she called out. “come on!”
then they were on the street again. she walked slightly ahead, her steps light and playful, occasionally skipping over cracks in the sidewalk. seungmin followed at a slower, more measured pace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.
“so,” she said, turning her head slightly to glance at him with a bright smile. “since we’re walking and have time, i think we should play twenty questions.”
he raised an eyebrow. “that’s a dangerous game.”
“not if you answer honestly,” she replied with a shrug, her grin widening. “come on, it’ll be fun. i’ll start. what’s your favorite color?”
he paused, thinking. “blue, i guess.”
“safe choice,” she teased. “very original.”
he rolled his eyes. “alright, my turn. why are you always so upbeat?”
“hey, that’s not a yes-or-no question!” she protested, narrowing her eyes playfully.
“neither is ‘what’s your favorite color,’” he pointed out, smirking.
she huffed, crossing her arms as she walked. “fine. i guess i’m just naturally optimistic? or maybe i just don’t see the point in being gloomy all the time. life’s too short to be grumpy.”
“are you calling me grumpy?” he asked, his tone mock-offended.
“well, you are kind of the poster child for ‘brooding baseball guy,’” she quipped, flashing him a cheeky smile.
he let out a short laugh. “i’m not brooding.”
“sure you’re not,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “alright, your turn again.”
he glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. “what made you want to work at the library?”
she tilted her head, thinking. “well, i’ve always loved books. and libraries are… peaceful, you know? there’s something magical about being surrounded by so many stories. plus, it’s a good excuse to read a lot while getting paid for it.”
“that makes sense,” he said, nodding. “what’s your favorite book, then?”
“oh, that’s impossible to answer!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “there are too many. but if i had to pick.. maybe white nights. classic, romantic, sad. it’s got everything.”
“romantic, hm?” he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
she shot him a look. “don’t make fun of me! it’s a great book.”
“i’m not making fun,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t take you for a romantic. or someone who liked reading sad love stories.”
“well you'll be surprised,” she said. “i like reading everything. it's art. whether sad, or happy, or anything else.”
he noticed the shift in her tone and decided not to press further. instead, he changed the subject. “alright, my turn again. what’s something most people don’t know about you?”
she thought for a moment, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. “i have a terrible sense of direction. like, really bad. if i didn’t have my phone, i’d probably get lost on my way home.”
he snorted. “good to know. i’ll make sure to never follow you if we’re lost.”
“rude,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “my turn. same question. what’s something most people don’t know about you?”
he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. “well, most people don’t know that i’ve always wanted a pet, like a dog. a big one. like, a golden retriever or something.” he chuckled softly at the thought. “my friends say i resemble a dog. but can't put up with one. i guess it’s kind of random, but i don’t know. i’ve always imagined having a dog, like, after i’m out of school, you know? just someone to come home to, someone who’s always excited to see me.”
he paused, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “but i never really had the chance to get one, with school and everything. plus, i’m always busy with baseball or music, and i feel like i’d end up neglecting it. so… it’s one of those things that kind of stayed on the back burner.”
she had been watching him intently, her gaze fixed on him for a moment longer than usual. he didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in his own thoughts.
“hmm,” she said, breaking the silence with a light laugh. “you’d be a good pup owner, i think. you seem like the type.”
he raised an eyebrow at her, the mischievous grin returning. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
she just shrugged, her lips curling into a smile. “nothing, just.. you’ve got this calm about you. i don’t know. you’d probably spoil it.”
his grin widened, but he didn’t reply right away. instead, he sat back and looked up at the sky, clearly lost in his own thoughts for a moment.
“i see it though.”
he raises an eyebrow.
“the resemblance of you, physically, and in another way, to a dog.” she spoke, her gaze tracing his features. “you might seem mysterious to a stranger, and me, sadly, but i get a feeling you're really happy and playful around people you're close with.”
“and as for physically, when you walk like this, your hair jumps and it actually looks like puppy ears. overall your face, especially with that wide smile that you try to avoid in front of me,” she laughed, “makes you seem more like a dog. playful. familiar. friendly.. and comforting.”
he stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. her words had caught him completely off guard, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. finally, he let out a laugh—soft, genuine, and a little disbelieving.
“well, that’s… definitely not what i expected to hear today,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks. “i don’t know if i should be offended or flattered.”
“flattered,” she replied without missing a beat, a playful glint in her eyes. “dogs are great!”
“i can’t believe you just compared me to a dog. you’re really out here calling me mysterious and playful in the same sentence.”
“it’s true, though,” she insisted, crossing her arms with a smug grin. “i’m pretty good at reading people.”
“clearly,” he said, his tone teasing, though there was a warmth in his gaze as he looked at her. then, after a pause, he added, “you know, no one’s ever said anything like that about me before. it’s.. weirdly nice to hear.”
she tilted her head, her smile softening. “you’re welcome.”
he chuckled again, shaking his head. “alright, since you’re so good at reading people, what does that make you?”
her eyes lit up at the challenge, but she hesitated for a moment, her expression growing thoughtful. “hmm.. i guess you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself,” she said with a sly smile, leaving him to wonder as she walked further and quicker, the conversation still lingering between them.
they walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly. the quiet of the town felt almost intimate, like they were the only two people in the world.
“where are we going?” he finally asked, watching as she spun around to face him briefly, walking backward with an impish grin.
“you’ll see,” she replied, her voice sing-song. “it’s a surprise.”
“i don’t like surprises,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words.
“well, you’ll like this one,” she countered, skipping ahead. “trust me.”
the library loomed ahead, its lights dimmed, the glass doors reflecting the moonlight. seungmin frowned. “wait. isn’t the library closed?”
“of course, it is,” she said casually, fishing a key out of her pocket. “but i work here, remember?”
“that doesn’t sound very legal, miss librarian.”
she laughed softly, “relax, mr. rule follower. felix closed up about half an hour ago, and i have permission to be here after hours. perks of the job.”
“okay,” she said, breaking the silence. “last question before we get there. what’s your happiest memory?”
he looked at her, caught off guard by the question. “happiest memory? that’s a tough one.”
“well, think about it,” she urged, her voice soft but insistent. “it doesn’t have to be big. just something that made you really happy.”
he thought for a moment, his gaze distant. “probably my first baseball game as a kid. my dad and grandpa took me. i remember the crowd, the excitement, the smell of popcorn. it was perfect.”
she smiled warmly. “that sounds amazing. thanks for sharing.”
he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “what about you? what’s your happiest memory?”
she paused, her steps slowing. “probably… baking cookies with my mom when i was little. she’d let me lick the spoon, and we’d make such a mess, but it was always so much fun.”
her voice had taken on a wistful tone, and he found himself studying her face, the way her eyes softened with the memory.
“you’re really close to your mom, huh?” he asked gently.
“yeah,” she said softly, her smile bittersweet, as she didn't say more.
before he could say anything else, she stopped abruptly and turned to him with a grin. “we’re here.”
he looked up, realizing they had arrived at the library. the sight of it felt almost surreal in the quiet of the night.
“come on,” she said, pulling out her key and unlocking the door. “i’ve got something to show you.”
he followed her inside, the familiar scent of books and polished wood enveloping them. the quiet was even deeper now, the kind of silence that felt sacred. she flipped on a small desk lamp near the entrance, its warm glow casting long shadows across the shelves.
“you said you write and like literature, right? so what made you start writing in the first place?” seungmin asks her.
she paused mid-step as they walked through the library aisle, the soft glow of her phone flashlight illuminating the dust particles that floated lazily in the air. she turned her head to glance at seungmin, her expression thoughtful, as if the question had unlocked a memory she hadn’t revisited in a while.
“wow,” she said, breaking into a small smile, “that’s a deep question. you’re really pulling out the big guns tonight.”
seungmin leaned casually against the nearest bookshelf, crossing his arms with a faint smirk. “what can i say? i’m curious. you seem like the type who’d have a good story behind it.”
“flattery will get you nowhere,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. but then her expression softened as she considered his question more seriously. “i guess… it all started when i was little. mum loved stories. she’d always read to me before bed—fairy tales, myths, even poems sometimes. and she’d make up her own stories too, ones that no one else could tell like she did.”
seungmin nodded, his gaze steady on her as she spoke. he didn’t interrupt, sensing there was more to this than just bedtime stories.
“she had this way of making the ordinary feel magical,” she continued, her voice quieter now, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. “when i was about seven, i remember her telling me that everyone has a story worth sharing. that stuck with me. writing became my way of… i don’t know, capturing moments, feelings, the things i was afraid i’d forget.”
there was a brief silence, the kind that felt heavy but not uncomfortable. seungmin tilted his head slightly, his voice softer than usual. “and you still feel that way. that everyone has a story.”
she turned to him fully, her lips curving into a small, sincere smile. “yeah, i do. even if someone thinks their life is boring or unimportant, there’s always something unique about how they see the world. i think that’s worth writing down.”
his expression shifted slightly, his usual neutral demeanor replaced with something warmer, more introspective. “that’s… a nice way to look at it.”
she chuckled lightly, breaking the intensity of the moment. “you sound surprised.”
“i’m not,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “it just makes sense. it sounds like you.”
she blinked, taken aback for a second, before a faint flush crept up her cheeks. “well, thanks, i guess. so, mr. musician slash baseball guy, your turn. what made you pick up the guitar?” she said, still walking around the dark library, slowly, as he followed behind.
seungmin shifted his weight, suddenly looking a little sheepish. “honestly? i think it started because i wanted to impress someone.”
she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “oh? do tell.”
he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “it’s not that exciting. back in middle school, i had this.. huge crush on someone. she played piano, and i thought maybe if i learned guitar, we could do some duet thing.”
she burst into laughter, the sound light and infectious. “that’s so cute! did it work?”
“not at all,” he admitted, his own laugh mingling with hers. “i was terrible back then. and she moved schools before i even got the courage to play in front of her.”
she grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “well, at least you stuck with it. now you’re here, a brooding baseball player with a secret musical side. very intriguing.”
“brooding again?” he teased, narrowing his eyes at her playfully.
“hey, it’s your aesthetic,” she said with a mock-serious shrug. “don’t fight it.”
they both laughed, the sound echoing softly through the quiet library. after a moment, she nudged his arm. “but seriously, i think it’s cool that you play. even if you started for, uh, questionable reasons.”
“questionable?” he repeated, pretending to be offended.
“okay, fine, romantic reasons,” she corrected, grinning. “but you must’ve kept playing for more than just that, right?”
he hesitated, looking down at the worn wooden floor beneath them. “yeah. after a while, it stopped being about anyone else. i started to enjoy it for what it was. there’s something calming about it, you know? like it’s just you and the music.”
her smile softened, her voice gentle. “i get that. music has a way of making everything else disappear, even if it’s just for a little while.”
her back and his chest collided suddenly, when she paused her footsteps to look around. their eyes met briefly, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged with an unspoken understanding. then she cleared her throat, breaking the moment with a grin. “alright, enough with the deep talk. we’re here.”
she gestured to a row of shelves, her excitement bubbling up again. seungmin watched as she reached up, pulling down a few old, dusty books and placing them on a nearby table, after turning the lights on.
“these,” she said, running her fingers over the faded covers, “belonged to my mom. she loved music almost as much as she loved literature.”
he approached the table, his curiosity evident as he looked at the books. “why are you showing me this?”
“because,” she said, her tone soft but earnest, “you’re still learning, right? these might help. and i don’t know, it just felt right to share them with you.”
seungmin glanced at her, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “bold of you to assume i'm gonna take something that belongs to someone who has more passion for music than i do.”
“bold of you to assume i'm letting you leave without it.”
she smiled, softly. “these books, seungmin, helped her a lot. now, it's no use to her because she's learnt all from them. so, giving this to you seems as the best option, especially when compared to letting them catch dust in these shelves.”
seungmin picked up one of the books, flipping through the yellowed pages. the notes in the margins and the slight creases on the edges gave it a sense of history. he hesitated, then glanced back at her. “you know, you make it sound like this is some kind of inheritance or something. like i’m supposed to treat this like a family heirloom.”
she chuckled lightly. “well, maybe it is, in a way. but if anyone’s going to appreciate it, i figured it’d be you.”
he tilted his head, giving her a curious look. “why me? there are probably a hundred other people who’d jump at the chance to take something like this. people who might actually deserve it.”
her gaze softened as she met his eyes. “because you care,” she said simply. “even if you try to hide it, i can see it. music means something to you. and i think that’s enough of a reason.”
he looked at her for a moment, the words sinking in. then, with a small smirk, he set the book back on the table. “you’re really good at guilt-tripping, you know that?”
“it’s not guilt-tripping!” she said, crossing her arms with a playful smile. “it’s… persuasion.”
seungmin let out a breath, shaking his head in amusement. “fine. but only if you let me return them when i’m done. deal?”
“deal,” she said, her smile widening. “but i don’t think you’ll want to give them back. just saying.”
he laughed, picking up the book again and tucking it under his arm. “you really don’t let people argue with you, do you?”
“not when i know i’m right,” she quipped, earning a small shake of his head and a smile as he started for the door.
“hey,” he softly reached out, “thank you.”
she turned to him, her grin returning. “you’re welcome. but you owe me now.”
he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “what do i owe you?”
“hmmm,” she pretended to think. “how about.. a song? once you learn something new from these books, you have to play it for me.”
his lips quirked up in a small, reluctant smile. “deal.”
seungmin carried the stack of books they’d borrowed from the library, his expression as neutral as ever, but there was an unmistakable warmth to his presence. she walked beside him, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, her usual smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“thanks for helping me with the books,” she said, glancing sideways at him.
“no problem,” he replied casually. then, after a beat, he smirked. “i mean, it’s only fair since you’re sharing your mom’s secret stash with me.”
she chuckled, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. “it’s not really a ‘secret stash.’ it’s just stuff that mattered to her. stuff that matters to me.”
he looked at her, his gaze softer now. “that’s what makes it important.”
her steps faltered slightly, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. she recovered quickly, brushing it off with a small laugh. “look at you, mr. philosophical. spending time with me is really rubbing off on you, huh?”
“i think i deserve some credit,” he teased. “i was already pretty deep before.”
“sure,” she said with exaggerated skepticism. “if by ‘deep,’ you mean good at dodging questions about yourself.”
“i answer questions,” he defended, raising an eyebrow at her.
“uh-huh,” she shot back, grinning. “vague answers don’t count.”
their banter was interrupted by the sound of excited chatter. up ahead, near an open lot, a group of kids and a few elderly folks were gathered, their laughter mingling with the occasional crackle of fireworks. sparklers lit up the night, little bursts of light spinning in the hands of children as they ran around, their faces glowing with pure joy.
she slowed her pace, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scene. “oh, that looks so fun.”
“really?” seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow as he followed her gaze. “it’s just sparklers.”
“just sparklers?” she echoed, feigning offense. “excuse me, but sparklers are the most magical thing ever. you clearly don’t understand their charm.”
before he could respond, one of the kids noticed them and waved enthusiastically. “noona! hyung! do you want to play with us?”
her face broke into a wide grin. “of course! seungmin, come on!”
he hesitated, looking a little awkward. “i don’t think—”
“don’t think, just come,” she interrupted, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward the group. he stumbled slightly but didn’t resist, letting her drag him along.
the kids and elders greeted them warmly, handing them sparklers and showing them where to place their books and bags safely away from the fireworks. y/n immediately lit her sparkler, holding it up and twirling it around with a delighted laugh.
“see?” she said, looking over at seungmin. “magic.”
he couldn’t help but smile at her, even as he reluctantly lit his own sparkler. “if you say so.”
“come on, you have to at least try to have fun,” she teased, stepping closer to him. “look, like this.” she moved her arm in a sweeping motion, drawing a glowing pattern in the air with her sparkler. “isn’t it pretty?”
he watched her, his sparkler momentarily forgotten in his hand. the orange-golden light reflected in her eyes, her face alight with joy. she looked so completely in her element, like the world around her had faded away, and she was just… glowing.
“you’re staring,” one of the elders said suddenly, catching him off guard. his tone was teasing, and his cheeks flushed as he was caught.
“a-ah sorry. i wasn’t,” he lied, quickly focusing on his sparkler. “i was just lost.. in thought!”
“you seem to have feelings for her, don't you?” the ahjussi asked.
“we're just friends.”
“that's what they all say, kid,” the ahjussi laughed, “and that's what i said when i met her, too.” he pointed towards a lady of the same age as him. “she was, is, and always will be everything to me.”
seungmin only glanced between them, gaze softening, and the moment being interrupted by y/n's voice.
“seungmin!” she called, giggling with the kids, “look! we fused all the colors of all the sparklers together and it made a rainbow!”
seungmin could only stare at her with a smile.
“good luck, kid.”
one of the kids ran up to them, holding out a small box of colorful sparklers. “noona, hyung! these ones make a big circle when you spin them really fast!”
y/n took one eagerly, thanking the child before lighting it and spinning it around. she let out a delighted laugh as it created a bright, shimmering circle in the air. “seungmin, try it!”
he took one reluctantly, lighting it and attempting the same motion. his first try was clumsy, earning a giggle from her.
“okay, that was terrible,” she said, stepping closer. “here, let me show you.”
before he could protest, she reached out, her hand brushing against his as she guided his arm. “like this,” she said, her voice softer now. the proximity between them suddenly felt charged, the air around them growing quieter despite the noise of the sparklers and laughter.
he followed her lead, their hands moving together in a smooth arc. the sparkler drew a perfect circle in the air, its light casting a warm glow over their faces.
“there,” she said, her smile bright and triumphant. “much better.”
“thanks to you,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
their eyes met for a moment, the sparkler’s glow reflecting in both their gazes. it was one of those moments where time seemed to slow, the world around them fading into the background.
then, one of the kids yelled, “noona, hyung! look at this!” breaking the spell. she stepped back, laughing nervously as she turned to watch the child show off their new sparkler trick.
seungmin exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her. even in the chaos of sparklers and children’s laughter, she was like a beacon of light, drawing everyone—and him—toward her.
as the night wore on, they stayed with the group, laughing, playing, and creating memories under the starry sky. and though neither of them said it out loud, they both knew this evening would stay with them for a long, long time.
and maybe, just maybe, something shifted in the quiet corners of both their hearts that night.
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taglists ୨୧ (mt) @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @woozarts (st) @vixensss @miyeonna
!! please let me know under this chapter post, or this one, if i forgot you in the taglist, my inactivity made me lose track, i'm really sorry !!
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latenightdaydreams · 10 months ago
Note
OMG HANDMKFUXHAB
reader running away makes me so happy 🥺🥺 if you plan on making a part 4 for the creepy trucker series im on the edge of my seat!!!!
I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the cliffhanger with her running away!! I hope part 4 doesn't disappoint🩷
Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part 4 (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part1, Part2, Part3, Part5
Master List✍🏽
Tags: @nachofriess, @blue-spices, @teddy2510, @soosouyoung, @vivasab0tage
🚫As usual this story has HEAVY triggers! Please do not read if you cannot handle them! Ily all and I hope you take care of your body and mind🩷🚫
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>cw: fem/afab, non-con, p in v, being chased, pregnancy, Stockholm syndrome
3.2k word count
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As you run you can hear the booming of footsteps, quickly in your mind you’re trying to figure out where you will go; you can’t just keep running, he will outrun you. You see a woman getting into a car with a man so you run to her, yelling in your native language, “Help me! Please!”
The woman looks at you scared and locks the car doors, hitting the guy to start driving. He does and quickly tries to get away from you and whatever danger you, a foreigner, is causing. Your heart sinks and you begin to cry loudly, clearly very distressed. You don’t stop running.
Across the road you can see a row of small businesses. Without thinking you just run across the road. You hear a car horn and tires screeching.
“MAUS!” König shouts as he sees you almost get hit by a car. He sees the car stopping just before it hits you. He freezes for a second as you do in front of the car. Then you look over at him and keep running. König pursues.
You continue to run, more cars having to stop, honking at you for dashing in front of them. König is right behind you also causing traffic to stop as he runs in front of cars. You make it to the other side.
Running into one of the stores, you run up to a man shopping and begin to ask him to call the cops. The man looks at you confused and backs away. Running pass, him, you go to the woman working behind the register.
“Please help me. There is a man that kidnapped me and is chasing me! Please!” She looks at you with the same look before telling you to go.
“No, no, I need help! Please!”
“Get out!” she shouts at you; she assumes you caused trouble for yourself and wants nothing to do with it.
Then König comes into the store, his eyes looking over the place and you run and hide; ducking behind the shelves in an aisle. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, your breathing shaking as you try to sneak out of the store past König.
König walks up to a man and in German begins to describe you, asking if he saw you.
“My crazy wife is manic and ran out of the car, she isn’t taking her medicine, please I’m trying to help her.” König lied very convincingly to the man. He nodded and pointed to the other side of the store where he saw you run.
You hear his footsteps as you try to guess which way they’re about to go. You take your chance and make a run for it. König’s head snaps and begins to run after you. The lady behind the counter yelling at you and König to take this somewhere else.
Just as you’re about to escape through the door, the man in the shop grabs you. You begin to fight the man, “Let me go!”
“Bitte sei ruhig.” The man says thinking that you’re a mentally ill person.
Then you hear König’s voice, thanking the man for his help. His massive hands grasp your arms tightly and pull you to him. He wraps your arms in an x across your chest and wraps his arms tightly around them, lifting you.
You kick back, trying to hit König and shake your body trying to break free, but nothing works. König thanks the man again and begins to walk you out of the store. You’re crying as he does, making sure to quickly cross the road again.
“You fucked up Maus, you really did.”
“Please just let me go!” You sob still trying to break free but twisting your body.
König squeezes you so hard the air leaves your lungs, “Stop!”
You give up and just sob, “Please, let me go!”
“You’re mine, you have to realize that.”
You sob as he walks back to the truck. A small group of people standing outside and watching this happen. König looks at them, feeling panic but trying to appear as a worried husband. He loudly apologizes to the crowd for your behavior and tells the same lie about you being manic.
One older woman in the crowd didn’t believe König, something in her gut telling her that you’re in trouble and that he is lying. She feels helpless watching this scene play out in front of her. She seems to be the odd man out so she is scared to say something. She just watches with sadness in her eyes.
Once back inside the truck, König slams you down hard on the bed and slaps you. “You stupid bitch! You could have gotten hurt! Gotten me caught! Selfish!”
König grabs your handcuffs and restrains you again. This time also grabbing a rope and tying your ankles. You try to kick him as he reaches for them, but he is stronger than you as he grasps them firmly. He ties them so tightly that it hurts. He grabs an old t-shirt laying on the floor and stuffs it into your mouth so he doesn’t have to hear your screaming anymore.
“I was being nice to you, and you fucked it up.” He grows at you as he quickly gets into the drivers’ seat and begins to drive off.
The woman watches the semi take off as she gets on the bus with her group. A heavy guilty feeling in her stomach because she didn’t do anything. She sits next to her friend on the bus, 40 minutes pass as she sits in silence.
“What is wrong?” Her friend asks.
“I-I feel as if that man was lying. That woman looked terrified.”
Her friend nods her head, “She did.” They both take a deep breath before she speaks again, “Maybe you should report it?”
“I think I will.” She takes out her cell phone and calls the emergency hotline. She describes you and König, giving details about the odd situation that unfolded before you all today. She tells them the address and describes the semi the best she can, but she never got his license plate. The man on the line thanks her and they get off the phone.
Because of the adrenalin that flooded through your body, you ended up crashing hard and falling asleep after an hour. König was relieved, but now paranoid that someone might have called for help. Every few minutes he looks over his shoulder to check if he’s being trailed by a cop. This whole situation made him realize you’re safer at home where you can use the bathroom and eat inside the house instead of interacting with the outside world. You’ve lost those privileges.
Hours pass since the incident; you don’t know exactly how much time though. You open your eyes to very bright sunlight flooding your vision. You try to move your hand in front of your eyes to block the light, but you’re still cuffed. This time though you realize your legs and arms are handcuffed spread apart. You’re on a bed in some house. You lean your head forward and look around. You see a wooden desk, wooden dresser, and a dark blue recliner. Next to the recliner is a tripod and a ring light.
Trying to pull yourself free you realize that you’re completely naked. You begin to shake and pull, letting out an aggravated groan once you can’t pull your limbs free. Heavy footsteps travel down the hall, approaching the door to the room you’re in.
König opens the door and walks forward towards you. He stops near the side of your bed and caresses your stubbly legs. “Finally awake.”
You look at him with fear in your eyes, “Where are we?”
“My house, our house.” He sits beside you on the bed. “Why did you run? I was so nice to you.”
“I- I,” you can’t even think of a way to answer without angering him and making things worse. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” König tilts his head to the side and looks at you with a blank stare.
“Yes.”
“No, you aren’t Maus. You’re just scared. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. You’ve just lost your privileges. You’re safe. Don’t worry.”
While he is trying to be comforting, he isn’t. He’s the one keeping you captive. He’s the one hurting you and taking you away from a happy life. You keep your eyes on him and then look back towards the bright light from the windows. You realize the window is open and there’s a light breeze coming in.
“Don’t bother screaming Maus, I live in the country. Just you and me for miles.”
You don’t look back at him, just let those words sink in and look out of the window.
“Welcome home, I’ll show you around soon. It’s a nice place to raise a family.”
Your head snaps in his direction, “A family?”
“Ja, Maus. A family. You’ll make me beautiful babies. Plus men will pay extra for your pregnant body.”
König rubs his hand along your abdomen and smirks.
Meanwhile, police have made their way to the truck stop you were seen at. They talk to the woman that was working the cash register that day.
“They came in, both went to the bathroom, and then next thing I knew she was running and he chased after her. When they came in they looked like maybe boyfriend and girlfriend? They were close.”
“Okay, are there any surveillance cameras I can look at?”
“I’ll have to get my boss.”
“You do that.” The cop puts away his notepad and looks around the store before the boss walks out.
“Right this way, officers.”
You don’t even know how much time has passed and there has been no sign of help. You remain inside of König’s home. Your stomach is growing, swollen with his child. An old medic friend from his military days comes to the house to check on you and the baby, König tries his best to take good care of you.
It’s a warm day and you stand outside in a green summer dress, 6 months pregnant. You’re kneeling in the flower bed and pulling weeds. You stand and begin to walk to the water hose, and then your chain pulls.
König has a metal shackle around your ankle, bolted to the house so you can’t run off. He hears the chain pull as he is behind the house trimming back bushes.
“Need something, Liebling?” He walks over to you wearing jeans and a black shirt, both covered in small green specks from the bush leaves.
“The hose,” You point only a few feet away from you.
He walks over and grabs it for you, “Don’t stress yourself out, you still have to film today.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
König leans in and puckers his thin lips waiting for you to kiss him. You tiptoe to meet him the rest of the way and kiss his lips. He smiles at you before slapping your ass and walking back to what he was doing.
You water the garden, feeling your baby move within you. Resting a hand on your stomach, you begin to caress your belly. You let out a deep sigh and look around, trying to imagine giving birth to your baby here and raising your child here. König as a father…how will that work? Will I eventually fall in love?
“Liebling, are you okay?” König walks up behind you, wrapping one arm around you resting on your stomach as the other takes the water hose from you. “You’re drowning the flowers.” His voice has a light chuckle.
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about giving birth. Being a mom. I’m scared.”
König drops the hose and wraps his arms around you.
“Don’t be scared. I knew from the moment I saw you that you’d make an amazing mom. Don’t stress you and our baby out, okay? I’ll run to the city tomorrow and get you whatever you’re craving.”
You nod your head, “Thank you König.”
“Of course, now let’s go film, ja?”
Filming was your least favorite thing to do, but it’s how König makes enough money to stay home with you, so you do it. He takes out a key and unlocks the cuff on your ankle. His arm goes around your body tightly so you can’t run away if you try.
Walking back inside, he brings you into the bedroom. “Shouldn’t I shower first?”
“Nein, the sweaty look is hot.” He kisses your forehead.
You sit on the bed as he sets everything up, placing the cameras where they need to be and making sure the lighting in the room is good. Once done he strips down to nothing, his cock soft but still 6 inches. He begins to record on all cameras and walks up to you on the bed.
He gets behind you and begins to massage your swollen breasts. You’ve already started to fill up in preparation for the baby, growing two bra sizes. König does everything he can to stimulate more lactation. He begins to squeeze your breast, forming a small wet patch on your dress. You look away embarrassed, he laughs. He squeezes more, letting the wet patches continue to grow, his erect cock rubbing against your back now.
“Let’s take this dress off Liebling.” He whispers as he helps you stand.
Once standing he slowly takes off your dress, his hand gliding over your pregnant belly. His lips kiss your neck tenderly as he makes his way down to your breast. Squeezing, he squirts a small amount of milk on his face before wrapping his mouth around your breast and suckling, drinking in any milk he can squeeze out of you. You let out soft moans as he licks your nipple before sucking again.
“Your milk is so sweet.” He growls as he seats up on the bed.
Again, he goes behind you and begins to squeeze your breasts for the cameras. Make sure to get good squirts of your milk, rubbing some of the milk all over your breast to make them shine. His head resting on your shoulder watching as he does this. Turning his head he begins to kiss the side of your face and you turn your head to meet his mouth and kiss him back.
He lets out a soft moan as he gently cups your breasts in his large hands. His tongue pushing into your mouth and twirling around, mixing your spit with his. Pulling away from the kiss a line of spit follows.
“Lay back Maus.”
You do as he says and lay back flat on the bed. He comes up and caresses your large stomach, leaving a trail of kisses up to your lips again as he positions himself between your legs. He reaches over and grabs one of the cameras and holds it angles at your pussy. He slaps his heavy cock over your tiny clit, causing you to mewl and move your hips. Disgusted with yourself because you actually want his cock.
“Beg for it.”
“Please fuck me.”
“Be more specific, Liebling.” He slaps your clit with his cock again.
“Please give me your cock. Please.”
“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.” He begins to slip his cock into you.
You moan out and grasp the bed sheets as you feel his cock push in all the way. His hand pulls one of your legs back, making sure to leave room for your big belly. He holds the camera up to your face and you make sure to act as if you don’t want to be recorded; he said the men like it more when I act like I hate it.
“Moan for me.” He taps your face.
You let out a tiny soft moan while suppressing the enjoyment that you’re feeling. He puts the camera down to rest his hands on your belly as he begins to buck his hips more rapidly into you. It hurts so you genuinely moan in pain and try to scoot back.
“Don’t run for it.” He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him.
“It hurts!” you moan out as you squirm.
König lets go of your hips and leans forward, holding your shoulders, and he begins to fuck you so hard you begin to scream.
“Ja! Scream for me! Hure!” He lightly slaps you but you act like it was worse.
Recording takes hours to complete. König helped you get all cleaned up after and chained you to the bed again, the chain is long enough for you to walk around the room, but bolted to where you can’t get to the door or window.
“I’m going into the city to get you food and treats, what are you craving?”
You shrug and think for a few seconds, “Maybe something cakey? Also, just some stuff to make brownies or cakes to have around the house.”
“I can do that.” He leans down and kisses you gently.
“I love you both, I’ll be back.” He caresses your stomach.
“We love you too…” you watch him leave the house.
Once you hear the car door close you rush to the drawers trying to look for something that you can use to break free from the shackles. As usual, there was nothing. You sit on the bed and cry, hugging your stomach.
“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know what to do.” You whisper to your stomach. You feel torn between wanting to run towards freedom and wanting to stay here with König. A weird part of you beginning to feel for him, but also wanting your old life back. You can’t even recognize yourself anymore.
In the city König goes into a local grocery store. He collects everything you asked for plus just thing for the house. He finds a baby onesie that says “I love Daddy.” König holds the tiny little piece of clothing in his hands, smiling thinking about holding his baby in his arms. He adds the onesie to the cart.
He walks up to the front of the store and begins to bag his items as the older woman working the register scans his items. He looks around the store as he waits for his payment to process and he sees a board of posters.
“Here’s your receipt.”
König’s attention turns back to the nice woman. He smiles and grabs the piece of paper from her, grabbing all of his bags and walking to the poster board.
In big red words he reads the words MISSING. König stays there and reads the details. His heart sinks.
Young woman, your skin tone, hair color, body build. His semi-truck color, build, hair color. The fact you’re foreign and what language you speak is even listed. He can feel his cheeks turn red as he begins to sweat. He reaches up and rips the sign off the board and turns to leave the store.
He sits in his SUV and looks at the poster. He wonders how many there are and how much information the cops actually know.
“FUCK!” He yells in his SUV and he runs his hands down his face. He takes a deep breath before pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to speed home to you.
648 notes · View notes
okiedokrie · 3 months ago
Text
All Is Fair In Love And War Pt.1
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Summary: Joshua is nothing if not determined. If he wants something, he'll get it; not that he even had to try before. But sometimes, like Icarus, he flies a little too close to the sun. But hey, all is fair in love and war!
Characters/Pairing: Aphrodite Incarnation!Joshua x Fem!Detective!Very Mortal!Reader
Genre: smut, fluff, crack, angst if you really squint
AUs/Trope Info: Greek God!AU, Partners In Solving Crimes, Strangers to Lovers, "time isnt linear" trope, "holy shit im kind of obsessed with you" trope
Word Count: 3,194 (Full fic is around 10k)
Warnings: Depiction of a crime scene (gore, blood, gun, conspiracy), depiction of drug use, character death (major and minor), smut warnings in the next part
Rating: 18+
A/N: I decided to split this into parts since I'm not confident ill be able to finish this within the deadline, this is part of the The 13 Gods of Olympus: A Seventeen collab hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions! This is just the first part, so if you enjoy it, please consider signing up for the taglist. Thank you!!
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In the summer of 2000, Joshua Hong was almost five years old. People always commented on how pretty he was for a kid, that he’d surely grow up to be a very handsome man.
Which is why it was a tragedy when he died from a freak truck accident.
Yes, Joshua Hong died at the age of five. For like, 10 minutes.
The doctors called it a miracle - a small child should not have survived a whole six of the twelve truck wheels, but somehow he was resuscitated, much to his parents’ delight.
This incident caused two things to change dramatically - Californetherlands now has stricter trucking laws and Joshua woke up to memories of literally being Aphrodite.
Throughout the years, from that fateful summer day to the present day, Joshua flopped back and forth between believing that the memories were just fever dreams and genuinely considering that he may be a reincarnation of the goddess. But ever since he got to hone his powers, he’s been more inclined to believe the latter.
By the age of 28, he has mastered the art of seduction. No, not sleeping with people constantly. It was more so the art of getting people to say ‘yes’ to everything he asked of them.
This made Joshua a very powerful and influential figure in Los Amsterdam; You see, the way he dealt wasn’t by out-witting people or being richer than them. He dealt in favors. If you wanted to be a popstar, he’d introduce you to a famous producer, and get you a record deal that would solidify your career - all for the low, low price of free.
In turn, you’d owe him, like the many powerful people who owed him large favors.
Joshua found himself in downtown LA, in the club that he owned, just under his penthouse. He enjoyed playing the guitar and performing for his patrons, everyone seemingly captivated by his voice, or his beauty, whichever one caught their attention first. He finally strummed the last chord of his song, enjoying the applause of the crowd as the DJ started to play the usual club music. Just as he was about to retreat to the bar, a feminine voice stopped him.
“Joshua! Hey!” She said, hair bouncing over her new fur coat, jumping excitedly, calling him over.
Joshua smiled widely at her - she was one of the people he had helped start her career as a singer. He didn’t do much other than introduce her to the CEO of her current label, it was her natural talent that got her this far.
“Ah, Diana, good to see you!” He said, going over to meet her in a friendly hug, the kind that didn’t touch at all. “How has being a singer treated you? Any good news?” He said, making small talk with an old acquaintance.
“Oh please,” she started, her new haughty attitude showing, “It’s all over the news! I just got nominated for a Grammy!” She said in a sing-song tone. Joshua just nodded Truth be told, he didn’t really have much interest in pop music, but he did try to match her enthusiasm.
“That’s great! I knew you’d make it big.” he said, remembering the first time she came to him, a girl in clothes that almost looked like rags, now decked out in every designer brand you could think of. “So, what brings you back here then? Surely you already have everything you ever wanted?” He said lightheartedly. Even if all of Joshua’s connections owed him favors, it was quite uncommon for them to come back to him after having achieved their dreams.
“Well,” She said, her old, meek bashfulness coming to the surface. “I just wanted to see you again, to thank you for what you have done for me.” She tucked a hair behind her ear. “And I know no matter what favor I do for you in return, I could never break even for just how much you’ve impacted my life. So, thank you, Joshua.”
Joshua genuinely felt relieved to hear her say that - usually, people’s pride and greed got in the way of them acknowledging those who truly helped them along the way, but as he suspected, this girl still had a soul so pure. “Let's get some drinks by the bar and chat some more, yeah? My treat.” He offered, which she gladly took, the conversation between them flowed naturally, Joshua enjoying her tales of success.
It was an hour after the club closed that Diana decided it was time to head home. Joshua offered to see her off, like the gentleman he was, and so they walked to the sidewalk, her hand around his arm.
Joshua opened the taxi door for her, offering her a few bills in cash to cover the fare, “It was nice seeing you again, hopefully, you’ll make time to catch up with me in the future.” he said through the taxi window.
“Yeah, I hope I get the chance to see you again soon. Goodnight Joshua.” She said as she rolled up the taxi window.
Joshua watched the taxi drive until the end of the block, and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Then, another car intercepted her in the intersection.
It happened so quickly, too quickly for Joshua to even register the new car’s window sliding down, holding a gun out to the taxi Diana was in. Gunshots echoed through the street, the sound of tires popping and glass shattering but all Joshua could make out was the sound of two sets of four tires screeching against the concrete. Diana’s taxi collided with a nearby lamppost, the taxi flattening and curling around it.
That was the last time Joshua saw her alive.
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It was all over the news “Beloved Grammy-nominated rising star, Undyne, passed at a downtown intersection in a successful assassination.” Headlines went crazy with her story, telling her life before her short-lived success as a pop star.
The police were on her case, and the street cameras identified a black car with a non-existent plate number. they couldn’t find the people who owned it, but they did have enough evidence to call it a homicide.
Joshua, being close to the scene at the time when it happened, was one of the key witnesses to the whole case.
Currently, Joshua is in the waiting area of the police station, waiting for the detective on the case to lead him to the interrogation room where he will give his statements. He was just mindlessly scrolling through his phone when a voice snapped him out of it.
“Mr. Hong? Correct?” One of the officers asked him. He nodded to confirm it, repeating his full name. The officer just nodded too, “Okay, please follow me. Detective L/n will be there to ask a few questions.” He turned to the direction of the interrogation room, Joshua trailing behind him quietly.
The officer stopped in front of a door, “Here we are, just head on in.” He said, nodding at him. He walked into the interrogation room, the chilly air making goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin, the thin cardigan he wore did nothing to shield him from the cold. He took a seat at the chair facing the door, poking at the cold metal table as he waited.
“Good Morning Mr. Hong, I’m Detective L/n. I’m here to ask you a few questions, everything said here will be transcribed as evidence for this case, do you consent to this?” You started, taking the seat in front of him, your tone was very professional, as he expected, you didn’t even bother with pleasantries other than introducing yourself, which didn’t bother Joshua. He confirms his consent verbally, politely smiling at you with his hands clasped over the table.
“Great, I’d like to ask a few questions about you first.” You said, taking out your folder for the case, “You’re Joshua Hong, born on the 30th of December, 1995. You own the club downtown where your place of residence is also. Is all of that correct?” Joshua confirms all of the information is correct.
“You can just call me Joshua, by the way, Mr. Hong makes it seem like I’m someone important.” He said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.
You just nod, writing something down in your notebook, “What was your relationship with Diana Kamatayan?” You asked, reviewing the official file which states that she is one of Joshua’s ‘clients’.
You were well aware of how the king of Los Amsterdam does his business, favors for favors. That’s how he got this far, and if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain, he’ll take away everything he gave you. You knew asking for Joshua’s help would make this investigation go quicker, but that would mean you’d owe him.
Owing Joshua Hong anything is a dangerous position to be in.
So while you have him in this interrogation room, you’re going to try to milk every bit of information out of him while it’s free.
“Well,” he started, getting comfortable in his seat, “She was one of my clients, I’m sure your file on me already knew that. Other than a professional relationship, I don’t really have one with her. That night was the first time I’ve seen her in a little over a year, actually.”
You nod, the timeline matches up, “And why did you meet her that night?” You ask next, trying to get more out of the nature of this last meeting.
“She approached me while I was in my nightclub. I was just about to turn in for the night when she came up to me to catch up. She thanked me for introducing her to a producer and wanted to catch up.”
Joshua really wasn't giving any information for free, as the interrogation went on you could only collect information you already knew. He didn't reveal any more than a simple google search did.
You drop your file folder onto the table, where Joshua's posture remained calm, cool, collected across from you, the small, charming smile still on his face.
“Did you get what you needed, Detective?” Joshua asks politely, tilting his head with his query.
“All I got was everything we already knew.” You sighed, rolling your shoulders in your seat. You turn in your seat, facing Joshua head-on once more. “Joshua, you are one of the most powerful and influential men in Los Amsterdam. We need your help in solving this case. All our leads have gone cold. We need your connections.”
Joshua smirked, the only time his expression changed from the relaxed and polite smile he had for the rest of the interview. His posture relaxed, leaning forward over the table, he placed his palms down on the cool metal surface, and said, “You do know what that would mean, right? The price you’d have to pay?”
You nodded, “I know all too well.”
“Asking me for a favor would mean that you’d owe me, do you think you can afford to pay that price?” He raised his eyebrows, you’d think your eyes deceive you when his irises glowed a soft gold—tilting his head in an almost teasing manner, taunting you.
Your breath hitched as you looked back at the one-way glass, knowing your co-workers were watching every detail of this interaction. “I promise I’ll deliver what I owe you. Just- please help us.” You said, not being able to look at him directly in the eyes.
He straightens his back once more, his polite smile returning to his face. “It’s settled then, I look forward to working with you Miss.”
Driving through the streets of a somewhat more affluent neighborhood, you stop in front of a well-known party den. There are plenty in Los Amsterdam, but this one was popular because of their ‘free-love’ policy.
Essentially, if you want to fuck, every surface is available to borrow for the duration.
You don’t look forward to entering the den, especially since you don’t know which surfaces are good to touch, but your partner beside you seems to be relaxed and content to visit such a place.
“God, I haven’t seen Jackson in forever. I hope he’s still having the time of his life here.” Joshua said with his bright eye-smile. You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowing in disgust. How could he find a place like this enjoyable? You don’t understand how the minds of party-goers work.
“Okay, how exactly is visiting a party den supposed to help with our investigation?” You finally ask him, he refused to elaborate on how relevant this location was when you met up with hiim, or during the entire car ride to said location.
“Well, Jackson still owes me, and he’s Diane’s ex’s first producer. If there’s anyone with a motive to get her killed, it’s her ex. I asked him to get Johnny drunk enough to pass out in one place. Now you have the perfect stage to corner and investigate him!” He said, with a smile on his face as if his plan didn’t just open up a whole new can of worms for you.
“You do know it’s illegal for me to just interrogate him without a warrant right? He might lawyer up if he figures out we’re onto him.” You said running a hand through your hair.
“Which is why I got you this,” he pulls out a skimpy party dress and matching heels from his duffle bag, “We blend in with the party-goers, that way you’re not interrogating him, you’re just having a conversation.”
“Joshua Hong you are insane.” You said, tone raising, “I’m not walking into a sex den looking like a hooker!”
“Don’t worry, we’re just trying not to stand out, please, just trust me.” He said handing the outfit over to you. You think over his words, it would be wise not to draw too much attention to yourself. If you made it obvious that you were a cop you’d have to resort to improvising.
You were never good at improvising.
Joshua gave you the decency to turn away while you changed, he was already in his usual relaxed suit that already made him look like a pimp, so he was already dressed for the occasion.
You both step out of the car, your heels clacking on the pavement below you. How Joshua managed to find your shoe size is in itself impressive, but you don’t have the time to dwell on that.
You both enter the bustling house filled to the brim with people indulging in their vices, whether it was alcohol, drugs, the ‘free-love’. It was a mess of bodies and fluids that you’d rather not inspect closely.
Joshua expertly weaved through the crowd, parting it like Moses did to the red sea. He didn’t have any difficulty locating Jackson Wang, the host of these parties.
“Jackson!” Joshua called out, the man was sitting in one of the many loveseats, a can of beer in hand and two ladies under his arms, giggling and getting very comfortable with him.
Jackson squints over the flashing lights, eyes widening in recognition after seeing Joshua. “Joshua! My man! Glad you finally made it! Got to say though, that favor of yours was an odd one. But you’ll be able to find him in my room. You know the way.” He waves him off, resuming to talking to the women clinging onto him.
You follow after Joshua, quickly climbing a few sets of stairs to get to the third floor, the entirety of the third floor was just Jackson’s room. He made sure to lock the door behind the both of you when you guys arrived.
The floor was far quieter than the floors below you, and less of a mess than them too. This room felt like Jackson’s actual home, and not like a party den.
Joshua spots Johnny stumbling around the room, nursing a liquor bottle- a few of them.
“Joshua we can’t interrogate him when he’s like this, he can barely even stand!” You said, waving your arms in front of you to point at the inebriated man.
“That’s not a problem, watch this.” Joshua takes long and purposeful strides toward him, once he finally reaches him, he takes his face in his hands and stares directly into his eyes.
You watch in awe and slight confusion, until Joshua speaks up, “You want to tell us everything we want to know, and you will be sober as a priest while you do so.”
Suddenly the haziness in Johnny’s eyes faded in an instant, his brown eyes now have a golden ring around the irises, like a puppet on a string.
“What did you need to know?” Johnny says, no longer under the influence of alcohol.
“Joshua, what did you do to him?” You ask in slight horror.
“Nothing illegal, don’t worry about it.” He said, “Continue your questioning on him, detective, if we spend any more time here Jackson’s gonna think we’re having sex here.”
Not wasting any more time you ask Johnny, “Are you aware that Diane Kamatayan had been assassinated? Do you know any information about that?” Johnny squints before his eyes widen in recognition, “Diane, yeah, her, we dated a bit. I was obsessed with her. But she broke it off when she got big. Yeah, I’m pissed, but instead of doing anything healthy with my time I just chose to shit-talk her on Twitter and drown in alcohol. When I heard the news about her passing, I lost it, went straight here where Jackson just kept handing me bottle after bottle with no questions.”
You look at Joshua, raising an eyebrow, not much of a motive if he didn’t even contact her directly in the entire duration of their time as exes.
You shake your head, back to square one then.
“It didn’t help that she started dating the old geezer of a producer of hers.” Johnny said, eyebrows furrowing in frustration, “That whore, she probably got big because that sleaze of a producer gave her banger after banger for sucking his dick or something, tch.” he said, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms.
“I’m pretty sure it was him who killed her too.”
You and Joshua look at each other in shock, eyes meeting for a second, almost as if communicating telepathically.
“Why do you think that?” You ask, cautious around the increasingly irritated Johnny.
“He’s always been a greedy bastard, worked with him before. Wanted to claim all the royalties of my song, so I sued him. Pretty sure he got threatened by how rich Diane was getting for that hit.” Johnny spat, distaste seeping into every word he said, “Now Diane is dead, and the bastard is getting married to some Slavic model, most likely cashing in all those royalty cheques.”
You and Joshua nod at each other. Joshua snaps his fingers, it’s almost as if snipping a puppet off its strings, the glow around Johhny’s eyes dims and disappears, suddenly slumping over the seat, stumbling drunkenly like he did when you found him.
“Okay, we have a lead.”
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