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amywritesthings · 4 months ago

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press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise.

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too.

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

— —

Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath.

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days.

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface.

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself.

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now.

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out.

Maybe your drink will be poisoned.

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own.

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out.

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t.

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling.

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks.

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.”

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement.

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.”

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink.

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.”

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully.

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder.

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow.

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought.

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?”

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top.

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave.

“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself.

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words.

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies.

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one:

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over.

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top.

His skin is smooth.

Heated.

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #snk x reader

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httpsdana · 7 days ago

Note

Hi how are you, please can you do something with Pau Cubarsi and just something super sweet and fluffy x

Blush and Bliss~Pau Cubarsi

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

i enjoyed writing this so much. enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

It’s a Friday night, and y/n finally convinced Pau to do a self-care evening with her. He was hesitant at first, but with after a little pleading and a playful pout, he caved, laughing as he said, “Alright, princesa, whatever you want.”

She set up everything in the bathroom, laying out face masks, lip masks, and even some under-eye patches. Pau looks at it all with wide eyes, a bit overwhelmed. “Are we really putting all of this on my face?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, and you’ll love it!” she insisted holding up a fluffy headband. “Now sit down, handsome. This is going to be so relaxing.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of the tub. “If you say so. But only because my princesa wants to pamper me.” He lets her put the headband on, holding back a laugh as she adjust it to keep his hair out of his face.

"you look so cute" she pinched his cheeks, making him roll his eyes playfully, opposite to the blush that found its way on his cheeks

She started by applying a hydrating face mask to his skin, and Pau sits still for about ten seconds before leaning in, trying to steal a kiss. “Ah-ah,” she denys, pushing him back gently. “We can’t mess up the mask, Pau! Give it a few minutes.”

He pouts, feigning offense. “You’re so cruel,” he teases. “How am I supposed to sit here with you looking so cute and not kiss you?”

y/n laughs slightly, rolling her eyes. “You’ll survive. Let me just finish applying the mask.” Once it’s on, she grabs two pink lip masks, handing one to him. “Okay, now this one goes on your lips.”

Pau examines the lip mask with curiosity. “It’s… pink,” he says, chuckling. “Are you sure this is going to make me look good?”

“Of course!” she grins, peeling the backing off and helping him place it on his lips. “You’re going to be the most radiant man in Barcelona.”

He tries to speak but remembers the mask and just gives her an exaggerated thumbs-up, making her giggle. Then she puts on her own lip mask, sitting down beside him.

y/n sits there, scrolling through her phone, showing him funny memes and videos, and he’s trying to laugh without moving the mask. But after a few minutes, he scoots closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. She narrows her eyes at him. “Pau… don’t even think about it.” she mumbled under the mask

He feigns innocence, his eyes wide. “Think about what, cariño?” he said, his mask slipping a bit.

She gives him a playful glare. “You know what. No sneaking kisses. We need these to stay put.”

He pouts again, mumbling through the mask, “You’re so mean.” Then he adds in a dramatic tone, “I’m suffering, and you don’t even care. I just want one little kiss.”

“Patience,” she giggles. “Good things come to those who wait.” She pats his cheek, and he sighs, pretending to be heartbroken.

Eventually, the time is up, and y/n gently peels off the lip and face masks. Pau watches her carefully, his green eyes watching intensely every detail of her face as she gently helped him remove the masks.

He eagerly waited for her to finish so he can finally close the distance between them. y/n leaned in to inspect his face, admiring how soft his skin looks.

“There,” she say with a satisfied smile, running a finger along his jaw. “You look radiant, Pau. How do you feel?”

He grins, reaching up to touch his cheeks. “Like I’m glowing. Guess my princesa knows what she’s doing.”

She's about to respond when he suddenly grabs the back of her neck and pulls her close pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. y/n laughs against him, feeling the warmth of his hands and the giddy happiness bubbling up in her chest. He pulls back with a mischievous grin. “Finally!” he says. “You have no idea how hard that was.”

She giggles, resting her forehead against his. “You survived. And now you’re all soft and pampered.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed with the results. “I hate to admit it, but you might be onto something with this self-care thing.”

“See?” she said in a teasing tone. “Next time, you won’t even need convincing.”

“Next time?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. “Only if it means I get more time like this with you.” He brushes his nose against hers, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. “And maybe a few more of those kisses.”

She smiles, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Pau. Otherwise, I’d make you wait even longer.”

“Oh, so I’m cute now?” he teases, his eyes gleaming with mischief, although his cheeks had turned into the darkest shade of red. “You didn’t seem to think I was cute when you were pushing me away earlier.”

y/n laughs at his words playfully rolling her eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re adorable. But let’s go finish our self-care night with some popcorn and a movie. I promise no more masks, just you, me, and maybe a blanket fort.”

He lights up at the idea, taking her hand and tugging you toward the living room. “That,” he says, squeezing her hand, “sounds perfect. As long as I get to hold my princesa the whole time.”

The two of them end the night snuggled up in a cozy blanket fort, laughing, sharing popcorn, and stealing plenty of kisses—face masks no longer in the way.

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ninisreading · 6 months ago

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Can you do a spencer read x reader where they use shitty crack/gen z memes as a love language (for example those awful facebook meme edits) and they send them to spencer ALL. THE. TIME. And he is just so confused bc wha tthe hell is a "little scrunklo eebee deebee"? I imagine reader would send them to him when they become close friends ajd then when they get an established relationship they send him stupid ones like "this is us" and its two awfully photoshopped cats sitting together

i absolutely loved this request, still cant wrap my head around what this man could say but here you go! :) pairing! Spencer Reid x fem!reader

warnings! nothing really, fem!reader, mention of bars/clubs

“Hi pookie!” You greet Spencer as soon as you enter your apartment. After a long and definitely tiring day of work, you couldn’t wait to get back home to your boyfriend and some random take away you guys had the number on plastered on your fridge.

You had beyond any doubt tried to introduce Reid to new internet slang, times were changing and you wanted to be a part of it! Though this didn´t strike Spencer the same way, deeming it as “uncool” (that was the most you could get out of him), so you took it upon yourself to say the most random shit until he somehow, someway, picked it up and said it back.

So, that was the reason why he was looking at you with that weird face he makes when he doesn’t understand whatever you decided was the word of the day. Of course the “Internet revolution” had gotten it´s hands on him; he would never admit it, but he would start biting his nails and picking at his cuticles if he forgot to do the Wordle puzzle of the day when he woke up. And with that unusual demeanour he asked, “What did you call me?”

Yeah, he was a lost cause.

╼

“Another day, another slay!” You chanted as you made your way down the hall, fresh out the shower and already in a good mood, you got to head to the office with Spence later since neither of you had gotten called in for a case.

“Honey, I swear I love you, but your names of endearment are getting out of hand.” The doctor said. And that’s the story of how you ended up explaining what queen and being in your “slay era” meant. He was not getting out of that one easily.

╼

Friday night out, the BAU girls invited you to a female only bar, fighting with Penelope about it being a lesbian club however; you made your way inside. It pained you to leave your boyfriend behind at work, him claiming that he had some paperwork to finish, even if you knew that Reid was probably going to finish everybody´s paperwork.

At around eleven, you received a message from him. Hey, you did not send a picture of what you were going to wear. Take some and send me later. It read.

As a good girlfriend would do, you made your way across the bar to the bathroom and snapped a picture on the mirror, just to send it to him. You laughed as you read his response.

Slay OOMF.

Well, you had a long way still.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler

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trigun-manga-overhaul · 9 months ago

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TRIGUN ULTIMATE OVERHAUL MARCH 2024 UPDATE

OVERHAUL UPDATE 03/01/24 - Manga server and end of hiatus.

Hey, everyone, and welcome back to another monthly update!

Our Overhaul work has been on a small hiatus for the last couple of months, just to ensure that we don't burn out. However, it has come to an end and we're excited to resume the cleaning and preparation for upcoming releases.

We still don't have a clear picture of when exactly the English 2.0 translation will begin its release, but we know for sure that it is coming. While work on the new translation hasn't started it, it doesn't mean we aren't preparing for it. All the cleaning work done for the Japanese releases are also a precursor to preparing pages for the English version, and we have been taking notes of all the feedback we've got for our previous translation, as well.

For now, everything is following schedule and we aren't behind on any front, but that is also a primary goal for our team to ensure that it remains a fun project and not a stressful time crunch.

The new manga server is going well.

The number of new users has been less than expected, but that is by no means a negative thing. We hoped for a smaller, more relaxed experience, and that is exactly what we've got.

For anyone looking to join, or are on the fence about joining, know that the server isn't massive and the activity is a slow but pleasant trickle of questions, memes, and general love posting for the series.

We've also set up times for Overhaul streams, where you can watch the cleaning work being done, or the preparation of other promotional material.

It's every Friday at 7PM CST and every Sunday at 1PM CST.

Feel free to join the server through the link in an older post on this blog.

Anyway, time for some cleaned double page spreads from Vol 6:

The number of spreads went down significantly from Vol 5 to 6. These pages above are basically all that show up in the entirety of the volume, with a single double page spread per chapter, with the exception of chapter 1 which has none.

But that's all we've got for this update. We hope to see you around in the server, otherwise we're still thankful for everyone sharing and following our project!

SEE YOU GUYS NEXT MONTH!

#trigun #trigun maximum #trimax #trigun manga #manga #fan project #trigun overhaul #trigun ultimate #trigun ultimate overhaul #infodump #overhaul monthly update

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

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fic rec friday 37

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Fade to Black by @yokohogawa

Things between Keith and Lance are changing but Keith is restless, especially with Shiro still weak, and ends up taking a bad decision: he leaves Lance alone in the Castle with a Lion he cannot pilot. Unable to form Voltron without the newly appointed Red Paladin, the four Paladins left struggle against the sudden attack of a Galra ship and later on take damage from the explosion of a star in close proximity. Lance, on the other end, is left to defend the Castle by himself and has little time to succeed: without energy, the Lions have only 6 hours of breathable air. Beyond that point, his friends will be dead.

okay yes technically this series is unfinished. HOWEVER the first two works ARE finished, and they are amazing showstopping incredible etc. tbh im not much of a black paladin lance fan, i genuinely think solo leadership is not what he is suited for, but this fic made me way more open to it. the way he handled severe crises was as fear stricken as it was awe inspiring highly recommend

2. once again i am a child by @lilaclavenders

“You’re not a spare tyre,” Adam interjects. “I know that,” Lance says, too unsure to sound completely defensive. “That almost sounded like a question.” “No... it didn’t,” Lance says.

Lance and Adam talk.

i have always been a fan of lance and adam even tho its the most evidence lacking fanon thing in this fandom. its truly just so interesting. and to have lance as a young cadet getting slammed so badly just in so many different directions being given at least one grownup in his corner...its a good read.

3. Lance the language man by @irish-vampire-blog

Lance didn't really try to learn a language. He just, kind of, picks up the basics and then works from there. Its usually unintentional. Ish.

He isn't stupid though. He isn't an idiot. He just isn't the same kind of smart as his friends are.

this kind of smart for lance is so REAL bc no he cannot do like quantum physics or whatever probably but the way he seems to have a pretty innate ability to successfully do many things that he tries. he just can u know?? thats the autism with the gay audacity i would imagine but i love seeing fics like this

4. my boyfriend's back (and you're gonna get in trouble) by teacupfulofbrains

hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back

Keith Kogane has never heard of Vine. Lance McClain takes personal offense to this, and makes it his personal mission to teach his boyfriend to meme. Keith is confused, mostly.

(OR: several instances of Keith not getting the meme™ and two times he did)

I LOVE THIS FIC SO BAD I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT RECCED IT BEFORE. yes i am a cringe zillenial who still finds vine funny and quotes it on the internet but truly idc idc. this fic is funny. this fic is cute. established klance my love and light. also keith comparing lances eyes to the star of bombay is some of the gayest shit ever and also the only time i will entertain blue eyed lance

5. The Most Dangerous Thing is to Love by running_downn

Last time something like this happened to Lance, Keith wasn’t there. He’d thought he would have been able to do something if he had been there, or at least if he was, the guilt wouldn’t be so heavy on his chest. But this time he was there. He was right fucking there and he decided that it was infinitly worse.

Basically there's a new threat after the Galra and it almost kills Lance. Desperate making out ensues, but it's okay to recognize when it's not the right time for it. Keith cries a lot cause he's older and grizzled and therefore not as emotionally stunted.

green sock reality? team still out fighting as adults and lance isn’t a fucking farmer while the rest of the team isn’t? keith’s abandonment issues treated with respect and dignity and also the acknowledgement that he’s older and therefore mature enough to handle those issues in a way that doesn’t risk a relationship that is important to him? lance understanding all this and using the supportive nature he is known for??? yes yes yes. stellar fic that should have way more hits than it does

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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aspenous · 5 months ago

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Started this at 2AM because Kuroshou won't leave the mind. You know what that means

Okay I think we all collectively agree that they're AT LEAST ex-lovers turned rivals right? But can I propose one-sided lovers before and after. Tf do I mean?

I mean a ten year old Kuroo who's too much of a wuss to confess his crush on the new neighbor and instead makes him a flower crown, which Daishou accepts because hey! Someone wants to be his friend and his new classmates are still being cautious around him. Kuroo is over the moon and talks Kenma's year off about how Daishou accepted it and whenever their together he holds his hand, shares his bento box (he ends up taking Daishou's portion of carrots because the boys face crumbles when faced with the food) and even kisses his cheek! He's just as much a volleyball nut as Kuroo is and on days when Kenma can't hang out, he finds himself in front of a clunky TV with Daishou beside him, watching–then re-watching old recorded matches. Kuroo is dead sure their going to grow old together and complain about the weather and whatever else old people do together until Daishou suddenly up and transfers to another school, leaving Kuroo stranded with no new landline or contact information in genral to reach the boy. He's left heartbroken, and when he see's Daishou again across the court, he may or may not let a bit of that childhood betrayal fuel his new rivalry.

I mean a 19-20 year old Daishou who finds out a little too late that he and Kuroo applied for the same university, and now shares a dorm; two rooms, a single bathroom, a closet sized kitchen and the concept of a living room, with him. Their rivarly had mellowed out after their 3rd year, and inbetween graduating, wasting a handfull of weekends trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life and parting ways with Mika, Daishou couldn't find it in himself to be as petty as he used to be. Kuroo seemed to be on the same wavelength, since all they trade are snide, one off comments or underhanded compliments on a bad day.

They start to co-exist, in a weird 'two different puzzle sets that can be miss n' matched because their templates are the same' way. Kuroo is a early bird, and by the time Daishou wakes up for afternoon classes, he finds breakfast (More like brunch) left in the microwave. Daishou tends to run by the store on his way back and this turns into him handling groceries. Their texts switch from randomass memes Kuroo finds from who-knows-where to random gossip they pick up on around campus. Sometime after mid-term exams, busting their only heater and finding a DvD player for cheap, they start spending Friday nights watching camp horror movies. Sometimes it's Kuroo justifying early 70s movie direction and sometimes its Daiahou guessing correctly the entire plot after ten minutes of watching but always, without fail, it ends with Kuroo draped across Daishou's shoulder and definitely ruining his one good sweater with drool (he doesn't mind as much as he should).

After three months of this, sprinkled with minute touches, catching lingering eyes and living with eachother instead of around one another, Daishou steals one of Kuroo's hoodies; one that's well-worn and he had no reason to take if he was still just a roommate. Kuroo hums when he sees, mumbles a quick 'it suits you' that sounds near bashful before scurrying away and Daiahou is satisfied ("over the moon's more like it" Mika had snickered).

Nothing major changes between them after that. Breakfast is still made for him when he wakes, but he throws some effort into waking up early on Mondays to watch Kuroo cook (and stare at his ass in running shorts), during grocery runs he picks up Kuroos favorite snacks and keeps the cupboard stocked. Simple 'make it home safe?', 'you look good in that' and affectionate cat gifs start to get mixed into their other messages. Kuroo starts suggesting cafes/restaurants and hole-in-the-wall confectioners to visit together. It was almost cute how he'd stammered through his first rec and looked genuinely surprised when Daishou agreed. Movie nights are warmer now. More contact and staring and awkward comments that Daishou doesn't look into. It's fun, being with Kuroo, and he's willing to wait for the rooster head to get comfortable with this–them–at his own pace.

That is, until two months pass and the guy has yet to even kiss him. Daishou's a patient guy, especially when it comes to relationships, but he's still just as human and if the idiot won't initiate anything he will. During the next movie night, he throws whatever into the DvD player and lets exactly 38 minutes pass (yes he counts) before turning over, waits for Kuroo to look back and closes that treacherous distance between them. Its nothing deep, just a peck on the lips, but when he draws back he finds Kuroo red in the face and just staring at him as if Daishou had grown a second head.

Now Daishou's confused, and his mind is slowly beginning to wonder if Kuroo was some weird 'sex before marriage' puritan until his dear sweet boyfriend of nearly two months mutters "I thought you were with Mika–"

Okay that's it no more I went to sleep at 3AM, then woke up to finish the rest of this lmao. Definitely got some basic grammer smudged since I didn't check nothing. If u care they end up half-arguing, half-explaining what they were thinking this entire time and at the end of it Kuroo smooches Daishou a whole bunch like the clingy cat bf he is.

#Kuroshou #Daishou Suguru #Kuroo Tetsuro #Haikyuu #RAAAAAA #Please god give me the energy to write I got so many fic ideas #I love them so much it's dumb #The kuroshou tag feels half dead tbh please bring it back #i wanna talk about my boys

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luvwoniez · 9 months ago

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Spontaneity.

Synopsis; What’s life without a little spontaneity? Of course, there’s nothing like midnight convenience store runs with your roommate, Jun.

Pairing(s)/Character(s); Wen Junhui x Reader

Word Count; 1.9k

Genre; Roommates to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Fluff,

Warnings; Fluff, Pre-marital hand-holding

In all the time you lived in an apartment with Jun, restless nights had become a regular occurrence. The first week you two stayed together, he had suggested a night out at a diner down the street. You and your best friend ended up huddling at a booth at the very back of the establishment, laughing over stupid memes you saw online and attempting to shoot french fries into each other’s mouths. By the time you two came home, it was already two in the morning; your companion ended up crashing on his bed right away while you made sure everything was locked.

You still remember how he swayed while trying to find the way back to his bedroom with half-lidded eyes and a brain running on its last two brain cells. It was endearing to say the least, particularly when he begged you to tuck him in after you checked every door and window. You liked to think it was the sleep deprivation that made you give in to his whining, pressing your lips to his forehead tenderly before wishing him a goodnight - and not the blooming feelings in your chest every moment you spent with him.

On another night - that night - you found yourself staring at the ceiling of your room and bored out of your mind. Unfortunately, everyone you knew had been unavailable that Friday; even Jun had yet to come back from practicing at the dance studio he and a few of his friends ran. It was around 7:30pm when he texted you he wouldn’t be home until late, knowing you’d be worried if he hadn’t come home at eight like he usually did. That was four hours ago, and it was just a bit past 11pm.

You groaned, turning over onto your side as you stared at the wall next. You’re greeted by a collage of picture frames containing some of your favorite moments in your life. Your eyes flit across the glass. There were photos of your graduation from university; another of you and your friends when you were in high school; some of just you - and in the center of it all, there was you and Jun looking like that picture-perfect couple you wanted both of you to be.

It was the first day you two moved in together. You two were sat on the beige couch that came from Jun’s old place, your bright green pillows on opposite sides while you two were positioned in the middle - stuck together like glue. Your other friends always said that both of you were like two peas in a pod. Some even hoped that you two would end up together; you did too a little bit, even when you thought it’d never happen.

You sighed as you eyed Jun’s smile. It was taken when he miraculously started growing another tooth after losing one during a performance. He had been so shy to take pictures afterward that it took you every bargaining chip you had just to convince him to take the picture with you. (“Makes it a little more homey,” you shrugged, completely missing the way his eyes sparkled at his home screen after you had sent the very same picture to him. You still didn’t know he printed a copy to put in his wallet, and you still haven’t noticed.)

A buzz from the side of your head brought you back to the present as the little jingle Jihoon made and sent to you rang from your phone. Your hand flailed to your side, grabbing for it before you glanced at the caller ID. It was Jun. You picked up immediately.

“Did I wake you?” Jun’s voice traveled through your ears, and you have never found more comfort than in the way the tone at the end of his sentence was higher out of concern. You don’t miss the awkward chuckle at the end of his sentence. It hadn’t even been a minute since you picked up the call, but your cheeks were already starting to hurt.

You laugh softly, “no, I was awake. Couldn’t sleep.” A low hum came from Jun. “Why are you calling, anyways? Did you lock yourself out again?” There had been instances Jun forgot to take the keys to your apartment, and you had to open the door for him or had him wait for you until you came home on more than one occasion.

“Not this time. I’m on my way back from the studio, and I was wondering…” he trailed.

“Do you wanna go on a convenience store run? I should be there in a few minutes.”

While usually, you’d be too lazy to go out, there was a tenderness in Jun’s voice to which your heart couldn’t help but be stirred. It was as if it was trying to tug you towards him every chance, and you couldn’t blame the way your entire existence had started to crave for him. Plus, it was Jun asking. How could you say no?

“Ok-”

“Great! I’ll wait for you in the lobby! It's my treat, okay?”

It wasn’t long until Jun reached his destination. He tapped his foot against the carpeted floor as he sat on one of the lounge chairs positioned on one side of the lobby. With every open of the metal doors, he silently anticipated your appearance. Every time the contraption let out a ding, his eyes shot from his smartphone to the corner of the room and hoping it might finally be you that came out.

He was staring at a cat video that made him think about what it'd be like to cuddle you with a little furball between you when you finally arrived. You stopped short of a meter in front of him, dressed in nothing more than sweatpants and one of his hoodies he left lying around in the apartment. When he looked up to see you bashfully playing with the strings of his jacket, Jun felt like he lost all feeling in his legs.

"I was too lazy to dig through the closet. It was the first thing I saw. I hope you don't mind."

God, if he wasn't in love with you before, he surely was now.

The convenience store wasn't too far; in fact, it was only a six minute walk from the apartment complex. It was four minutes if you and Jun raced each other - which you did on nights to decide who would treat who (of course, it was Jun who always won. Though, he'd loose on purpose from time to time if only to see you light up the moment you'd gotten your hands on the snack that he'd inevitably would be paying for). The usual bustle of city life had already thinned out just two hours earlier, leaving you two to pass the sidewalk without any danger and laughing all the way until you would eventually reach those glass doors to snack heaven.

You skipped merrily in front of Jun. "How'd practice go?" You questioned, mentally counting each step you took and recounting after loosing track of it. Sometimes, your roommate would notice, and he'd fall into step with you. That alone always made your days a little bit better.

He hummed, jogging right up next to you. His eyes shifted towards his feet for a split second and analyzed your footwork before matching your rhythm - right, left, right, left, right, and left. Jun looked up to you (with all the love in the world, but you never noticed).

"Not too tiring considering we're doing another dance cover. We're hoping to post at least one more in the next few weeks." He explained, recalling the routine he'd just practiced an hour prior. Soonyoung set the goal a week and a half ago after their most recent cover blew up online, and they decided to take advantage of the newfound popularity to advertise the dance studio.

"What's the song? Maybe I'll give it a listen tomorrow if I have the time." Then you'd watch them if you ever decided to drop by next week. Maybe you'd even bring some snacks, knowing they were always starving at the end of their practice.

Jun told you just as you finally stopped in front of the store. The automatic doors sliding open for you to scurry yourselves in and immediately head to separate isles out of muscle memory. Jun watched you from the mirror in the corner, crouching down to swipe a bag of chips. The sight made him smile.

You two reconvened at the register, and after paying, you two ended up outside once more. By then, the air had only become chillier, and it was only then you felt your fingertips feel to frost over. Jun noticed, of course; why wouldn't he? Your fingers started to twitch, your instincts acting immediately and making you pull down the sleeves of the jacket. With how long he spent living with you, picking apart your habits was bound to happen.

"Cold?" He shuffled the paper bag full of your treats onto his left arm as you took the spot to his right. You fidgeted, rubbing your palms against the fabric in an effort to bring them warmth. The way Jun whispered to you with care made your heart rate pick up.

"Yeah, just a little," your cheeks warmed to the notion that he cared enough to tell so easily when you're cold, "I'll be okay though. It'll only take a few minutes until we go back to the apartment."

Jun frowned. Cautiously, his right pinky grazed against your hand. It was only a few seconds, but it sent sparks of electricity straight to his heart. He glanced at your face, wondering if you would pick up on his small attempt to hold your hands. When he found you still continuing on, without such indication that his touch had earned your attention, he almost physically deflated.

Two minutes pass in silence; you two are already halfway back to the apartment. In truth, you did feel his touch, but the way it made your brain blank did little to remedy the overthinking. You pretended like it was no big deal despite the thoughts swirling in your head. Do I hold his hand? Does he want me to?

Stewing in your thoughts doesn't leave you much time because you find yourself back at the entrance of your apartment complex. A part of you feels disappointed at your lack of confidence. Even if you did feel shy, you still wanted to hold his hand. Sure, you've held hands once or twice on other occasions, ones attributed to Jun's slight protectiveness - it's just that something about tonight felt different.

When you crossed the threshold of the elevator, you stared blankly at the doors as they closed. Your tongue felt like lead, the silence still permeating between you.

Then you felt it.

The spontaneous combustion of fireworks in your chest as your heart hammered against your ribcage. Jun had wrapped his hands around your own. Your head snapped up to look at him, his own head turned away from you to hide away his own embarrassment. But the reddening of the tips of his ears easily gave him away. You gave his hand a squeeze, and you leaned a bit closer to his side.

Maybe you could go on more of these spontaneous midnight convenience store runs.

#luv.svt #luv.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #wen junhui x reader #jun x reader #junhui x reader #kpop x reader

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