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#please send help or suggestions lol
satinelabelle · 2 months
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A burlesque vibe
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dailydoseofrant · 3 months
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I 👏 Need 👏 Your 👏 Help 👏
You guys are my only hope
I NEED MOVIE RECOMMENDATIONS!
literally the people in my life are useless when it comes to recommendations, so you guys got my back right?
Basically these are just some things I like in movies (not limited to tho I just don’t have the energy to type out every single thing I like watching)
Alright:
Enimes to lovers plot
action/ adventure
Assasin/hitman vibes
Not just romance, gotta have other things in it
mystery
murder mystery
crimes
comedy infused (gotta get the lols from it)
theivery
So there some things I like and here are some movies kinda based on those that I enjoyed (you guys can also take these as recommendations)
red notice
Uncharted
The 5th wave
sorry my minds literally gone blank so that’s all I got lol
also apologising cause this isent really my normal ranting post but I’ll get back to that today
Thank you all so much if you’ve followed or thinking about following as I’m trying to build a little community on Tumblr! xoxo
p.s once I’ve watched the movie recommended would you like me to do a post reviewing it? Up to y’all on whatever stuff you want from me
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later
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Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 3,1k
Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...
Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now
Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍
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You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.
“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.
“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.
Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.
Because of your never-ending sickness.
“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”
“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.
You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.
“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.
“Thank you for your help. Again.”
You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.
“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.
“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.
Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.
Right?
-at the wind hashira estate-
“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”
Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.
“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.
“Was it really that bad?”
Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…
“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“
Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?
“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.
“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.
Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.
Until your eyes find Genya.
Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…
“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.
Maybe that is even worse.
Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.
“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.
An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.
Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.
But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.
In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.
“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.
Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.
“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”
Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.
Straight towards the two boys.
Straight into the firing line.
Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.
“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.
“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.
“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”
The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.
“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.
Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…
“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.
But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.
“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.
He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.
“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”
Oh.
Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.
Until now.
“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“
“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.
“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”
It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?
“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“
“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.
“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“
You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.
The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.
“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.
And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.
You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.
-a few hours later-
“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.
Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.
But why did he say all those dumb things, then?
“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.
“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.
What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.
“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“
“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”
“Did you ask her, though?”
“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.
“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”
Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?
Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.
Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-
His eyes widen in sheer horror.
You’re gone.
Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.
Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.
Did you leave?
He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.
“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”
Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.
“Is she fine, why did she-“
“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“
“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“
“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”
Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.
Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?
“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.
-at Mitsuri’s-
“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.
Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.
“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.
“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”
Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?
“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.
“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”
Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.
And reveals no other than your husband.
“Sanemi”, you breathe out.
Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?
“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.
“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.
“What?”
Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.
“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.
Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.
“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.
You turn away before you lose your composure completely.
“Why are you here, Sanemi?”
“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”
In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.
“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“
“(y/n), please.”
His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.
Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.
Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?
“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”
“Sanemi…”
“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“
“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.
“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.
“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”
“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”
That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.
“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.
“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”
“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”
Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.
“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.
“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”
“No problem, I’ll carry you-“
“You really don’t have to carry me-“
“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”
“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”
“Did you have to tell her everything?”
“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
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@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt
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hxzbinwrites · 8 months
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Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD
Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles
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Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.
"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.
"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.
"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.
"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."
"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"
"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."
Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.
--------
"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"
Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.
He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.
"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.
"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.
"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?
"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."
"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.
"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"
"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.
"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"
Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"
"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"
"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"
"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.
"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.
She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.
(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.
But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.
Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.
She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.
"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"
"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.
Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.
The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.
The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.
This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.
The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.
“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.
“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.
“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”
Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.
(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.
Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.
Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.
Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”
(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!
Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?
(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.
“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.
————
Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.
He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”
Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.
He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.
Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.
“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”
Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.
“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”
Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.
————
Word Count 1,524
7K notes · View notes
5sospenguinqueen · 3 months
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Growing Pains Pt 2 | Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: Oscar thought leaving was the best thing for you, but quickly realised he cannot function without you.
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Suggestive content.
2024 season. Childhood sweethearts. No facelaim, just rando Pinterest pics
This acc just ended up being Landoscar fluff because I consumed too much of them after Silverstone lol
F1 Masterlist
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mclaren just posted
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liked by aussiegrit, ln4 and others
mclaren oscar’s post race interviews #bahraingp 
2,559 comments
mclaren please enjoy some clips of our aussie talking about the one aspect of his life NOT involved with his job
→ user1 did mclaren just hard launch a relationship?
→ user2 no because why did they post clips that specifically don’t mention a name
→ user3 yes but the familiarity of the way he’s talking about this girl must mean it’s one he’s known since he was 14???
danielricciardo caught simping in 4k
thisisnotyn oscar sweaty got me feeling some kind of way 
charles_leclerc oh god, that goofy smile is back. i know what that means
→ maxverstappen1 he’s going to start yapping more than i do
→ user4 what do you know?!
alex_albon mate, i’m not going to lie, i don’t think we can defend you from this anymore
→ oscarpiastri you sent me memes of my face. you have never defended me
→ georgerussell63 join the club. wait until he sends you reaction gifs 
→ landonorris i love getting those 
YourUserName pookie 
→ user5 um, is she calling oscar pookie?
→ user6 well, it’s not going to be lando. he was only in one of the clips 
→ user7 idk, we don’t know what happened between them. it could’ve been a bad breakup and she might be trying to piss them off
→ landonorris ew, no. it’s not me. they made up weeks ago btw. no way osco would’ve lasted this long without his yn
→ YourUserName what do you mean ew! you’d be lucky to have me
→ danielricciardo no he wouldn’t
oscarpiastri i also talked a lot about my performance in the race
→ landonorris and where is that footage, huh??? funny how it doesn’t exist 
→ oscapiastri yn says you’re not allowed to tag along to date night anymore because you insulted both of us 
→ landonorris :(
→ user8 what do you mean he tagged along on date night?
→ user9 why are we skipping past the fact that lando confirmed that they’re back together
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName ladies, get a boyfriend who looks at you the way Oscar looks at Lando (actually, can you get me one first because mine seems to be broken) 
1,142 comments
oscarpiastri whoa, you told me i was a handsome boy. that photo doesn’t look like a handsome boy 
→ YourUserName some people are into the serial killer eyes. not me though, that’s why i’m asking the fans to find me a new bf
→ logansargeant i’ll help
→ user10 we know which side logan is choosing in the divorce 
landonorris how does it feel to know that your boyfriend likes me more 
→ YourUserName i know how to cut brake lines
→ landonorris 😰😰
→ mclaren yn, please don’t threaten our drivers
→ YourUserName hey, i’ll take them both out if they don’t end their affair 
→ oscarpiastri and here i was thinking you would cut his brake lines so i could get on the podium instead 
→ YourUserName sure, we can go with that
user11 can we take a moment to enjoy the fact that they’ve been back together for 4 months and he’s still letting her bully him
→ YourUserName i’m riding the guilt trip until the very end 
→ oscarpiastri i love you
→ YourUserName i know
→ landonorris but not as much as he loves me! 
→ YourUserName i know where you sleep
→ landonorris yeah, with your boyfriend!
→ oscarpiastri don’t tell the internet that! 
danielricciardo lando used to look at me that way
→ YourUserName i think we should start a spurned wags group
→ danielricciardo i’ll bring the wine
→ YourUserName i’ll bring the lightning mcqueen crocs
→ liamlawson30 can i join?
oscarpiastri sweetheart, you know you’re the light of my life
→ YourUserName didn’t feel that way when you guided lando away from a puddle and let me put my foot right in it
→ oscarpiastri i gave you my socks! 
→ YourUserName they were sweaty
→ oscarpiastri it’s all i had… 
→ mclaren yn, please stop bullying him. we can hear him crying from his driver’s room
→ user12 no because the fact that the majority of mclaren admin’s online interactions are just begging yn to behave 
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oscarpiastri just posted
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oscarpiastri when you say date night and she says I’m not putting pants on 
2,329 comments
YourUserName thank you for sharing your pizza with me after i burnt mine <3
→ oscarpiastri i can’t wait to share more with you
landonorris did she hide in your neck at the scary parts 
→ oscarpiastri no she fucking laughed at the way he was running
→ landonorris you cuddled into her neck at the scary parts, didn’t you 
→ oscarpiastri i plead the fifth
→ YourUserName it’s okay, princess, you know i’ll always protect you 
logansargeant no because they had their ‘date night’ 3 days ago and the paintings they did of each other are hanging in their bathroom, and when i tell you they were a shock to the system
→ user13 logan, show them to us, please
YourUserName it’s not my fault that it’s hard to keep pants on when you’re around 
liked by oscarpiastri
→ mclaren we talked about this 
→ landonorris my eyes! 
→ user14 @ aussiegrit come get your kids
→ YourUserName don’t tag him in it. mark still thinks i’m nice
→ oscarpiastri no, he knows you’re a gremlin
arthur_leclerc not you trying to pretend that you are romantic when you asked me for all of those ideas
→ YourUserName oh really?
→ oscarpiastri i had a whole night planned and you decided you didn’t want to go out!
→ alex_albon no because you really had him stressing
→ georgerussell63 he was even messaging the grid group chat 
→ danielricciardo he had a whole group of guys debating the best alternative to rose petals
→ YourUserName because i don’t like roses 🥹 oh, osc. it was perfect
→ oscarpiastri 🤍🤍
→ user15 anyone else finding this suspicious
charles_leclerc a date night to remember, i’m sure. and not for the lack of pants 
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user1 rough night in the piastri house, he’s upset mom and wifey 
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, oscar. please don’t bring yn with you
→ YourUserName you’re just jealous that i didn’t want dinner with you 
→ maxverstappen1 wait, i thought i was your favourite. why don’t you want dinner with me?
→ charles_leclerc you are welcome for dinner anytime, yn
→ oscarpiastri see, what you’ve done. now lestappen are fighting. you promised to keep your crushes to yourself
user2 i love how now that oscar is past his rookie year, his true personality of being a gremlin has come out 
→ user3 now that shy oscar has gone we’re seeing just how well he pairs with yn
→ arthur_leclerc and i can guarantee the grid are missing shy oscar. i have had to put up with this since 2021
→ georgerussell63 i can confirm we do
→ logansargeant now you understand why i prefer to be quiet. if you don’t talk, they can’t bully you 
→ georgerussell63 my name on yn’s phone is amelia georgehart 
→ oscarpiastri we’ve been together for years and mine is peestri pants, count yourself lucky
→ YourUserName lando’s is just fucker. 
→ landonorris the full stop included? 
nicolepiastri i have some questions 
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName weekends away with you  
1,012 comments
YourUserName thank you for a lovely weekend away from the madness. i could spend forever with you in our little bubble 
→ danielricciardo oh wow so you’re both simps?
→ YourUserName look away! i have a reputation to maintain
→ oscarpiastri no you don’t. you luuuuurve me
landonorris i can’t believe you left me behind 
charles_leclerc remove your head from that poor girl’s shirt. i raised you better than that
pierregasly someone convince kiks to do this with me. she refuses to go camping
→ francisca.cgomes because neither of us would survive sleeping on the ground
→ oscarpiastri neither would yn if not for the fact that we camped in the back garden
→ YourUserName why would i want to go somewhere without a functioning toilet! 
logansargeant where is your shirt. nobody wants to see that 
→ YourUserName i think you’ll find that i did 
→ oscarpiastri she’s a big fan
mclaren please come back, we miss you 
→ oscarpiastri yn says she still has another weekend before she has to return me
→ mclaren we were talking to yn
→ YourUserName miss you too, boo 🧡
→ landonorris why don’t you speak to me like that 
→ YourUserName ‘cause you stole my osc
→ oscarpiastri no one could take me from you 
user4 no because that last pic screams engagement photo and i don't know why
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charles_leclerc just posted
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charles_leclerc i am an incredibly proud father right now  
10,226 comments
oscarpiastri in other words, i convinced the prettiest girl in the world to marry me 
→ YourUserName and now i have the prettiest husband in the world 
user5 how is lando taking oscar looking at someone else that way?
→ landonorris not well
→ danielricciardo he cried the whole day
→ YourUserName that’s why i gave him my flowers
→ landonorris no i earnt those!
→ lilymhe yeah, i still have the bruises! 
user6 miss rabbit has fainted 
YourUserName i enjoyed our father-daughter dance
→ fernandoalo_official @ aussiegrit the monegasque is trying to steal our children
→ oscarpiastri now i’m in trouble with mark
→ YourUserName i’ll make it up to you on our honeymoon
→ oscarpiastri 😳☺️
user6 fuck you to all the bitches who said they wouldn’t last because they’ve never dated anyone else
mclaren what a beautiful couple. i think we need to put those up around MTC
→ YourUserName i think zak would really appreciate them in his office
→ oscarpiastri what makes you think i haven’t already put them up around MTC. gotta keep my wife with me wherever i go
→ YourUserName stop making me giggle 
user7 definition of soulmates 
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, yn. even though i asked oscar to leave you behind when he was adopted 
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName i made something 
10,229 comments
nicolepiastri and an amazing job you did, sweetheart
→ YourUserName i love you 💗
→ user8 nicer to mama piastri than she is to her own husband 
oscarpiastri i helped
→ YourUserName you contributed for like 2 seconds
→ oscarpiastri stop being mean to me or i may fall in love with you 
→ landonorris 2 second wonder
→ YourUserName you would know
charles_leclerc i’m too handsome to be a grandpapa 
→ YourUserName certified gilf 
→ oscarpiastri i cannot believe you made me read that. i thought you were better than this
→ YourUserName whoa, i have never been better than this and you know that but i can blame it on baby hormones this time
→ charles_leclerc and oscar will let you get away with it
→ oscarpiastri damn right. she just had my baby
landonorris does this mean i get the chance to win godfather of the year
→ danielricciardo don’t tell me they actually named you godfather. you can barely keep yourself alive
→ logansargeant yn got to pick me so oscar was given the choice to pick the other
→ oscarpiastri we made the decision together as loving parental unit 
→ YourUserName the decision was made whilst i was high on gas and motherly love 
→ oscarpiastri stop making it sound like i coerced you
→ YourUserName you had your top off! of course i was coerced. piastitties
→ mclaren yn, no
oscarpiastri sweetheart, i have loved you every day since we were 14 and being by your side these past 9 months, watching you go through such a monumental change, only proved that it was possible for me to love you even more. i can’t wait to see our family grow 💕
→ YourUserName i love you so much, oscie. from growing with you to growing our own mini us, i’d go through all the pain again for forever with you
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Hi, guys. If you have requested previously, I promise they're coming. I've just got them added to my list
Baby Fever Angst Series
Charles's Version | Daniel's Version
Lance's Version | Lando's Version | Max's Version
Tag list
@barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @leclercsluvs @weekendlusting @urdad-hot @lemon-lav @rosecentury @peachiicherries
1K notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 6 months
Note
this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!
Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)
Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.
Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol
Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx
If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.
“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.
Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”
Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”
When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.
Unknown Number
Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…
Y/n
Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.
The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.
Unknown Number
WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?
Unknown Number
YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN
Unknown Number
If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit
Unknown Number
LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE
Unknown Number
Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder
Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.
Y/n
You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!
His response was immediate.
Unknown Number
Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?
Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.
Y/n
*Image Attached*
Y/n
I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.
The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.
Unknown Number
Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.
Unknown Number
You are very pretty tho
Y/n giggled,
Y/n
Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.
Unknown Number
Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.
Y/n
How do I know this for sure?
Unknown Number
Trust me?
Y/n
Okay, ig. What’s your name?
The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.
“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.
However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.
Unknown Number
Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?
Y/n
I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)
Y/n
Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny
🏎️
The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.
Bob!
Good morning :)
Bob!
Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?
Y/n
Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.
Bob!
GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n
Y/n
Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol
Y/n
I live in London! What about you?
Bob!
Monaco
Y/n
Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?
Bob!
NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho
Y/n
Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.
Bob!
😭
Y/n
No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces
Bob!
Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.
Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.
She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.
Y/n
Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.
Bob!
Ok! text me when you’re free?
Y/n
yesss
There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.
Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.
Bob!
Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!
Y/n
sry, i just got home.
Bob!
Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??
Y/n
yeah
Bob!
Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you
Y/n
that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?
Bob!
you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times
Y/n
thats love fr
Y/n
but yeah its been a long day
Bob!
oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?
Y/n
Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.
Bob!
Talk to me about it then <3
Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.
Y/n
it’s ok. Thank you tho bob
Bob!
Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?
Y/n
no one?
Bob!
you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.
Y/n
We barely know each other.
Bob!
Do i look like i care?
She laughs and types,
Y/n
Bob, I don’t even know what you look like
Bob!
We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything
Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.
Y/n
People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?
There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.
Bob!
I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.
There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.
Y/n
Thank you. That means a lot.
Bob!
Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.
Y/n
When were you experiencing it?
Bob!
A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.
Y/n
You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.
Bob!
There’s not much to tell, Y/n.
Y/n
You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?
Bob!
I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.
Y/n
VAGUE
Bob!
Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs
Her eyes twinkle,
Y/n
Haha yeah right brotha
Y/n
That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.
Bob!
Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.
Y/n
You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?
Bob!
If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha
She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.
“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.
She breathes, “Bob?”
There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.
“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”
He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”
The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”
“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”
Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.
Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.
“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.
Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”
She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”
He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”
The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.
Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.
🏎️
“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.
“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.
Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”
Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”
Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”
“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.
Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”
Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.
“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.
Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”
“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.
Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”
Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”
Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.
“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.
“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.
Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”
He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”
She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.
Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”
Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”
“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.
Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”
Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”
Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”
As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”
Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.
Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.
“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.
Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”
Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”
Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”
Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”
“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.
Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.
🏎️
There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.
Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.
“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?
But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.
Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.
A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.
Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.
This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.
Robert Dancing does not exist.
🏎️
Unknown
Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?
Y/n
Everything is fine.
Unknown
Can I call you now?
Y/n
I’m busy.
Unknown
It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?
Unknown
Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?
Y/n
Stop messaging me.
Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.
Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”
She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”
Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”
“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.
“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.
Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”
A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”
A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”
“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.
“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.
He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”
She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”
“Y/n, I-”
She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”
A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”
Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.
He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.
What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”
With that, she hangs up the phone.
Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.
No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.
“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.
A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”
Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.
“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.
Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”
Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.
Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.
It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.
The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.
From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.
Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.
She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.
Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”
The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”
Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”
He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.
Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.
Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.
With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.
🏎️
The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.
She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.
He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”
It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.
When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.
“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”
The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.
The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.
The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.
He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”
Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”
He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.
Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”
“Y/n Y/l/n.”
He lifts his head slowly, “What?”
At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”
A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.
He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.
“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.
She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”
Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”
“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.
Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”
She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”
He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”
Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.
At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”
He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”
Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”
He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.
Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”
Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”
🏎️
The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.
Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.
So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.
“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.
A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”
Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.
When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.
Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.
He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.
He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”
He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.
The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.
Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.
“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.
She doesn’t know who he is.
He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.
“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.
Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.
“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.
“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.
“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.
Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”
What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.
“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.
She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.
“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.
“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”
Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”
He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”
Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”
Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”
Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.
“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.
He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”
Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”
His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”
She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”
He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”
Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”
Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”
She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.
🏎️
Y/n
Can you stop blowing up my phone
Bob <3
Why????? I’m bored baby
Y/n
im at work girly
Bob <3
girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me
Y/n
I think you might be obsessed with me
Bob <3
i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?
Y/n
girl
She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.
“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.
She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”
“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.
Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”
Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”
Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”
Lando hums, “An hour?”
“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”
Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”
She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”
He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”
“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.
He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”
She’d never get tired of saying it.
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redzie02 · 21 days
Text
San comes home from tour in the middle of the night
needed the comfort so here’s a short San fic
warnings: none ?/ maybe slightly suggestive at the end/ comfort/ dialogue starts under the cut lol masterlist
You'd been thrashing around for hours, trying to find comfort, but no luck. The bed was uncomfortable. Your pillow was too warm. Even your comforter annoyed you.
Peaceful sleep was not something you were well acquainted with the last few months, especially considering the absence of your favorite person. San.
You knew what you signed up for when you and San started dating, but it didn't make times like these any less difficult. Daily phone calls and texts only did so much to ease the longing.
Frustrated and miserable, you sat up and dramatically snatched your pillow and smacked it onto the opposite end of the bed. With a huff, you laid down and exhaled deeply, satisfied with the new sleeping arrangement. It was somehow exponentially more comfortable, but something was missing.
You couldn't be bothered to sit up again, so you slid your foot under San's pillow and gently tossed it to the other end of the bed. You held it tightly to your body, inhaling the subtle mixture of San's shampoo and fresh body odor before tucking it under your chin- the same way he holds you.
The remnants of San's faint aroma hit you straight in the gut. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your throat starting to tighten.
Just one more week and he'll be home. Don't cry. You repeated these words to yourself while blindly patting down the bed in search for your phone. You squinted at your screen before sending a text.
3:58 am my y/n♡: i miss you :(
You tossed your phone to the side, not expecting an answer. You'd sent San over a dozen texts yesterday, but he only responded back by hearting a few of the messages. A bit infuriating, but you understood he was most likely just busy.
-
You awoke with a startle when you felt something lightly dragging up and down your arm. The lamp in the furthest corner of the bedroom was on, casting a soft yellow glow, but still bright enough to leave you squinting at the figure before you.
You almost whimper when you realize San was standing just a few inches away from you. You practically leapt up, throwing your arms around San's neck, almost causing him to stumble. You couldn't help the whine in your voice as you spoke, your voice groggy from the fatigue. “I thought tour ended next week.”
His strong arms wrapped around your waist, constricting your breathing a bit, but you didn't care. “I got the dates mixed up, that’s my fault, baby, I'm sorry. I texted you when I was on my way thirty minutes ago, didn’t you see it? I sent it right after I saw your text.”
“I don’t even know where I threw that thing, if we’re being honest." He chuckled into your neck. "Ugh, I don’t care. You’re finally home.”
You pulled him backwards until he was laying on top of you on the bed. He lifted his head from your shoulder, his smiley eyes taking in every millimeter of your face as you did the exact same. He freed his right arm from under you and smoothed your hair out of your face. His breath tickled your cheek as he quietly spoke, “It was four in the morning when you texted me…Why were you up, hmm?”
You wrapped your legs around San’s waist, your whole body clinging to him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, your fingers caressing his warm, soft skin. “I haven’t been able to sleep without you.”
He raised his eyebrow, but his body relaxed even further in your embrace. “You never mentioned this.”
“The last thing I want is for you to worry about me when you’re about to perform for thousands of people.” You sighed.
He hummed in understanding, but rebutted, leaning down to place kisses on your cheek. “I want to worry about you. You’re the most important person in my life.”
“I’m telling your mom that.”
“Please don’t.” He pouted and took a moment to run his index finger across your eyebrows and down your nose. “I haven’t been able to sleep either.”
You pinched San's waist, drawing out a small yelp from him. “San! You promised you were taking care of yourself.”
“I was, I swear…but it really started to hit me a month into the tour. It was so hard not seeing your clothes all over the floor.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh? You make me sound like a slob…”
“What I mean is…the only reminder of you that I had with me was the pendant you gave me and your pictures in my phone. Nothing felt like home.”
“Oh. I almost wish that was all I had of you. Everything in this apartment and this city reminded me of you. It only made me miss you more.” His thumb stroked your cheek. "I know it's your job, but I hate when you leave."
“Me too, baby." San's eyes softened when they met your glossy ones, a small pang in his heart. He couldn't help himself as he brought his lips to yours, inhaling your sigh. What started off as soft kisses, grew more eager, months of deprivation just barely being chipped away.
San let out a noise between a whine and a groan as he pulled away. "I missed this,” he cups your face before dragging his thumb from your cheek to your now wet bottom lip. “And this.” He kisses the tip of your nose and continues to leave a perfect path of pecks down the side of your face. “This.” He places a kiss on your earlobe before taking it between his teeth, gently nipping. “You,” he whispers in your ear. “Us.” His lips leave a trail of kisses down your neck. The breath of his sigh tickles your skin, sending chills up and down your body.
You push San’s hair out his face, running your fingers through his silky, dark locks. You close your eyes, feeling your body relax just a bit too much. As badly as you wanted to keep going, exhaustion was beginning to eat away at you. “Sannie.”
“Hmm?”
“We should sleep.”
“Continue later?”
“Yes, please.”
a/n: San took a shower before falling asleep btw he is not stinky.,,,all my fics are lowkey the same lol
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hoshinasblade · 3 months
Text
i would like to apologize in advance because this sounds so rushed lol i just want to take a break from the angst. if u have any nsfw prompts, please send me an ask, i would like to write some more. THIS IS NSFW, MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.
sex is good.
but sex with hoshina soshiro is better.
it is saturday - on second thought, it may be sunday already, you can't really tell because it might well be past midnight. the entire day was spent replenishing the contents of your fridge - a grocery date has been the routine since you started dating soshiro. the dinner was a hearty meal that you enjoyed just as much as making it with your boyfriend - soshiro is meticulous and thorough in his cooking, and sometimes you even hesitate to offer help in fear that you only be a liability in the kitchen but tonight he trusted you with cutting some onions and peeling the potatoes.
the plan was to watch a movie you chose, cuddle and fall asleep in each other's arms. but your first mistake was that you did not research what the flick is about - it was the first thing to appear when you googled "what to watch with significant other" - so you were surprised that it was not even at the twenty-minute mark, and there is already a steamy scene.
"why's the guy eating her face?" soshiro wrinkled his nose before hurling criticism at the movie's leading man. he was licking the woman's chin now, and you cringed a little.
"don't be mean, soshiro. you kiss exactly like that," you responded but only to tease. more than anyone, you know that the truth is the opposite, but you are not about to tell him that. hoshina soshiro is already cocky as it is, you do not want to pile "excellent kisser" into the list of his achievements. unfortunately for you, one of the man's fatal flaws is his predictability, and so you waited for the dramatic reaction to come.
soshiro stole the remote control from your hands. you were comfortably leaning on him while watching, but now he turned to face you. "kiss me then", he dared, the challenge sounding more like a command. the room was dark, save for the light from the television. "come on, don't i get to defend myself? where's justice in that?" he narrowed his eyes at you, a taunting smirk forming on his lips. you're not surprised - an experienced high-ranking officer plays to his strengths, and hoshina soshiro does so well in provoking you to action.
as if on cue, the woman in the film moaned, but you and soshiro weren't even looking. he is focused on you this time, waiting for you to bite his dare. you were trying your best to steel your expression, but amusement was apparent in your eyes when you caught soshiro staring at your lips.
the flesh is weak indeed.
you felt soshiro grin into the kiss, happy with his victory - you initiated first contact, your lips touching his gently, your breath mingling with his. "can we turn that shit off please?" soshiro suggested, his left hand connecting with your cheek, his palm spanning up to your jaw, his thumb at the corner of your lips. you parted your mouth and licked the finger while making eye contact with him. "fuck it", soshiro cursed before grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you into him.
it was not hard to bring you under him, and this is hardly your first time being intimate with the vice-captain of the anti-kaiju defense force's third division. it is embarrassing to already be this breathless when soshiro has barely done anything to you. his weight partially on you, he is impossibly close as his lips find the soft spot near your throat. you closed your eyes tightly, feeling soshiro drag his kisses lower and lower until he had to lift the collar of the blouse you were wearing so he could reach the skin the fabric was covering.
soshiro groaned when he discovered you were not wearing a bra underneath. he took off your clothes in one smooth motion and you did not resist. he nibbled at your collarbone, his breath fanning against your already heated skin. the temperature rise is apparent, and you feel burning up. "do you still think i kiss like that?" soshiro asked you, but the question almost did not register with you. your laugh turned into a sharp gasp as he trailed kisses down the valley of your chest, his deft fingers now working on the sensitive buds of your breasts.
"oh my fucking god", you swore. you are sure soshiro could hear your heartbeat now, and your pants got heavier as he held both of your wrists down the mattress over your head, limiting your movements.
"stay still for me," he requested, continuing his descent down your body. "baby."
soshiro had always preferred calling you by your name but he is also very generous with the pet names when he wants to get something from you. so far, his trick has never failed him.
"s-skip", your voice was husky from the tension. "skip that, i want you now." it's not that you are bored by foreplay, it's just that you are too wet now and if your boyfriend spends one more minute tracing patterns on your skin, you're afraid you would throw a fit.
impatience looks good on you, he was tempted to say. soshiro finally relented and released your arms from his grip. he kneeled in front of you, parting your legs. enough to make you squirm, soshiro seemed to be enjoying this game - he has a particular habit of taking his time with you, but as he takes off your pants and underwear, you realized he is just being torturously slow right now. a rough groan escaped you when you felt him bite you lightly; you clamped a hand over your mouth in reflex.
"you drive me crazy", soshiro said as he snatched your hand away, putting it at your sides. he gives you one final searing kiss before entering you. the world melted away.
your brain could not keep up with soshiro's actions anymore. one second you are looking up at him, and the next he had flipped your positions, your body hovering his now. your thighs on both sides of his torso, you relied on his hands on your hips, guiding you through the motions. up and down, up and down, you did not want it to end, and when you paused to catch your breath, soshiro had taken it upon himself to fuck up into you. "i'm close," you warned him when he picked up the pace.
that didn't take long, he thought. this is not your first rodeo -pun intended - so he knows you are more likely to cum faster when you are on top of him. ever the gentleman, he held your waist, lifting you a little, pushing inside you at a speed and angle that felt so good your body seized.
"soshiro, f-" he didn't cease moving, his mouth latching on yours, silencing your loud moans. tremors consumed you, a hot flush crawling from your belly outwards until your toes were curling with pleasure.
chasing his own orgasm now, soshiro did not have the self-control to stop the way his hips were moving, one of his hands left your hip to settle on your tits. you arched your back at the sensation. "say you want me to come inside you", he told you.
"i need you to come inside me." soshiro did not need to ask twice. scared that your knees would give out, you leaned into him and stared at his eyes.
desire overwhelmed soshiro and you watched him combust.
"you okay?" soshiro was the one to break the silence, your body slumped over his, unmoving. "did i hurt you?" the two of you are still trying to recover, and it warms you to know that even in this situation, his first thought is to find out if you are well. eyes still shut, you did not respond.
soshiro smacked you in the ass.
"you literally just fucked my brains out." and you're literally still inside me. you aimed to sound more forceful, but exhausted from your earlier activities, it came out weak. your head on his chest, you heard the rumble of his chuckle.
"oh god", he replied. "i gotta let you choose the movie next time too", he said, his hand on your hair.
you sighed quietly, sleep threatening to claim you. in the background, you can still hear the faint dialogue of the movie you and your boyfriend were supposed to watch.
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
Note
nagi has beef with any of your pets cuz why do they get to lay around all day but he doesn’t :(
*ੈ🌩️���₊˚— feline foe + seishiro nagi.
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૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — strangers to enemies except it’s nagi and your pet cat.
⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, semi-smutty, mentions of sex, suggestive towards the end, dry humping, owning a cat lol, the cat walks in on you, established relationship, pro player!nagi, fem!reader - not beta read !
⭑ words — 2K.
⭑ notes — thank u lambie for sending me this ! i thought it was too cute an idea not to write! also i queued this to post on nagi’s bday so happy bday to my bf <3!! enjoy! - m.list ✩
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it might sound vain, but nagi was sure that before it arrived, he was the centre of your universe.
he had all of your attention, always. you went out of your way to bring him lunches at the stadium during practices and helped him drink water or energy drinks on the pitch at his games because you liked to believe that it would bring him good luck and he let you. his teammates heave with jealousy each and every time.
when your days were done, you’d let nagi settle his head in your lap while you brush back his hair and scratch at his scalp — letting him game to his heart's content in your company. nagi might have been pampered too and much to the point where he expected to have all of your attention… so he doesn’t quite understand why all of it shifts to a brand new presence in your lives. 
your cat. 
miruku. milk.
it’s a ridiculous name for an animal, nagi thinks, it’s a pest. annoying. but he couldn’t say no to you when you’d brought the stray cream-coloured kitty home, soaked in rain from where you’d chased it around his apartment complex trying to bring it inside. if he said no to you, that would’ve been another issue in itself — and nagi hated when you fought. it was bothersome having you play silent treatment.
so you keep it, the kitten, and everything changes for seishiro nagi. for the worst.
miruku can do everything nagi isn’t allowed to nd gets away with it as well. he raids the fridge if you leave it open, doesn’t have to pay to replenish it because of course cats don’t have income. he wakes you up at ungodly hours for playtime which usually consists of you sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking around a ball of yarn for the kitty to play with. it’s irritating for nagi, having your warmth stolen away from him and pulling him out of the depths of slumber by your lack of presence— all because the stupid cat wants to play ball and you just can’t seem to say no to it. 
the feline that’s suspiciously close to looking like your boyfriend if he were to be an animal is also allowed to sleep in. miruku naps where he pleases, in the linen closet, the corner of the kitchen where the water pipes run hot, on top of the drier and especially by the front door where he trips up nagi on the way in from practices. it’s like the cat is purposely trying to make the pro-player’s life even more difficult than it’s meant to be and you find it’s every single movement adorable. 
the worst place miruku could possibly nap is seishiro’s favourite spot— on your chest. nuzzled against your boobs on a warm sunday afternoon where your boyfriend should be, where your boyfriend should be making you giggle by sucking hickies into your neck while he thumbs at the skin underneath your breasts. he should be suckling on the sweet expanse of your skin lazily, working you up just enough to offer yourself up to appease seishiro’s insatiable appetite.
and its so sick that he can’t because of your pampered little pet. you’d just brush him off and tell him ‘you’ll get your turn later, sei,’ which makes nagi hate that stupid fucking cat even more than anything.
you don’t ever let seishiro sleep in these days, ripping the blankets from his tall frame every morning with a slice of toast hanging from between your pretty lips as you say. “get up sei, wake up for me, baby.” you coo sweetly, briefly letting go of your breakfast to kiss his forehead before you rush out of the door. “i won’t be happy if isagi or reo have to wake you up for practice. ‘kay?”
“mmm…lil’ longer. please angel.” he groans but you weave your fingers through his snow white locks to scratch at his scalp before you tug on them slightly. 
“up. seishiro nagi. i’ll see you later!” the tone you use is warning, and prompts nagi to shift int he sheets to get out of bed. 
he huffs, stretching his limbs a little too similarly to your kitty companion before the realisation hits— miruku is laying in your spot, comfy and cosy. sleeping. and it only pisses him off more. that should be him.
“you’re a pain.” seishiro narrows his eyes at the snoozing feline, scratching it under the chin and the twitch of miruku’s ears tells him that he’s been acknowledged as a rival. 
so be it. 
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“how come this cat gets away with everythin’ ‘nd i don’t?”
nagi whines into your neck, watching with darkened and narrowed eyes as his feline opponent hops up onto the couch to join you both in your late night cuddle session. miruku makes his presence known, pushing his head under your chin affectionately and clawing at the fluffy blanket draped over you and your boyfriend. you obviously find it adorable, your hands slipping from seishiro’s soft white hair to tickle just behind your pet’s ear— completely discarding the man tucked into your side. 
“what are you talking about, sei?” you mumble absentmindedly — missing the way the striker squirms in his seat and squeezes you close by the waist, as if to pull you away from the offending kitty.
seishiro grumbles out a response. “he gets to sleep in, but when i do it, it’s a bother. same for when he gets in the fridge too, and when i nap on top of you—“
“stop complaining about him, sei. miruku is just a baby!” you scold your boyfriend, hugging your kitten to your chest, cooing down at him as if he really is a baby. nagi seethes from beside you, that should be him in your arms and not some cat-like freeloader from the streets. miruku blinks up at the white-haired pro player slowly, his mouth opening in a petty meow that almost makes nagi hiss back in response. 
“i’m supposed to be your baby.”
“and you are! but you’re just a little more self-sufficient than my precious lil’ kitty— he needs me to take care of him.” 
“why don’t you just take care of me? cats are s’pposed to be independent,” seishiro nuzzles into your neck, his lips still pouty against your skin and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t overwhelmed with affection for your two boys. “‘n looking after the two of us must be a drag…” 
rolling your eyes, you turn your head to capture nagi in a surprise chaste kiss just to sate him— brushing your lips over his delicately. “i do take care of you, seishiro. some might say you’re a little spoilt with how much i do,” smiling into the kiss, you scratch your nails through his scalp in the way that he likes, a lot similar to your feline friend before jumping up from the couch with a clap of your hands. “now which one of my boys is hungry?”
miruku is promptly shooed to the floor beside a frustrated nagi left without your warmth. the pair share a brief moment of eye contact as your boyfriend runs a hand over his face in annoyance. 
“i hate you.”
“meow.”
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the final straw for nagi is the night your cat makes it into the bedroom while you’re having sex. 
he’s pent up, training has been more intensive than usual and all he wants to do is come home and lose himself in you. you let him, falling into the sheets with seishiro nagi, your hands lost in his sea of perfectly soft white hair, your mouth on his, your legs wrapped around the small of his waist as he sinks into you for the first time in a long time. you share a moan, muffled by nagi’s tongue working it’s way down your throat and his entire body weight thrown over you. 
somehow he manages to tear through your clothes, tongue hungrily lapping over your pert nipples while you tug his aching cock free from the confines of his shorts. tears sting at your waterline as nagi presses into your cunt without much prep. he’s so big, you feel as though he might already be kissing your cervix without even moving and you tug hard on his hair at the feeling of nagi twitching within your walls.
“s-sei, god. fill me up s’good—!”
he cuts you off with a throaty moan, eyes rolling back as he gives an experimental thrust. “s’no fair…s’pretty. so tight around me, fuck, angel…”
the moment is perfect, he’s dizzy with love and desire and all caught up in the heat it all… that is until your stupid fucking cat starts screaming bloody murder from outside your locked door. 
“leave it,” seishiro grunts, pawing at your sides and languidly rolling his hips into yours. “s’probably nothin’, angel.” 
you gasp and nod, delirious with ecstasy and pull him closer but miruku seems to whine again— scratching pathetically at the door. “sei, what if—?” 
“he’s fine, jus’ focus on me, pretty thing.” and for the most part you try, you let nagi have his way with you— let him pin you to the bed and make you see galaxies and you’re both about to burst when he swears to the fucking stars he feels that cat’s paw between his balls. 
he doesn’t remember what happens next, just that he sees red or turns it and you are equally as embarrassed— shuffling out of the room to deal with your pesky cat, draped in one of sei’s spare hoodies. 
that’s when nagi decides he’s had enough. 
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his final plan isn’t to get rid of miruku but instead to steal your attention away from the dumb animal. 
nagi puts a little more effort into cleaning up himself and the house for you once he gets back from practice at blue lock ( after multiple face times to barou and isagi, reo and others ). he stops by a flower shop and puts together an arrangement that he thinks you’ll like because the colours remind him so much of you. 
when you come home, your eyes light up at the bouquet on your sparkling countertops and the sight of your boyfriend lounging around in your kitchen on his phone. “baby, did you get these for me?” you swoon. 
“yeah. on the way back from practice i went to that flower shop you always talk about.”
“sei, that’s not even on the way home,” you smile and his heart flutters in his chest. “you didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”
nagi bristles with happiness as you make your way into his arms of your own accord and hide your face in his toned chest. “i’d do anything for you, angel,” he mumbled into your hairline and uses a finger to tilt your head up for a gentle kiss, quickly distracting you from miruku who’s jumped up onto the counter. “missed you, s’much.” he knows exactly what he’s doing when he presses his cock between your thighs, dropping his lips to your neck wetly. 
“m-missed you too, sei but…gotta feed the cat…” 
your kitten purrs at your side but seishiro rolls you over, nailing your hips down to the countertops and grinds into you feverishly. his plan is working. 
“no buts, need you. god… s’not fair bein’ away from you f’so long. baby…fuck.” he’s whiny and needy, grabbing handfuls of your ass to slide you back and forth on his growing erection so that you become putty in his hands. you’re so lightheaded that you don’t even hear your cat meowing for your attention— clinging onto nagi’s broad shoulders for dear life. “unless you want me to stop?”
you blink up at your boyfriend, teary eyed and ravenous— for once not reaching out instinctively to pet miruku but instead reaching up to tug on seishiro’s soft snowball locks and bring him down to your height. “i don’t want you to stop, seishiro,” you growl, your voice dipping into sensual and sultry territory. “i want you to fuck me.” 
“can do, angel.” he coos, letting you drag him by the hand towards your shared bedroom.
nagi throws a smug look over his shoulder at your unhappy cat, grinning from ear to ear as miruku hisses at him in defeat.
nagi: 1 - miruku: 0
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yelenasdiary · 3 months
Note
I have request for A widow's sunshine
Could you write a reader that is like fifteen or sixteen and she found out recently she's like lesbian and she comes out to her parents and also tells them she has been dating someone for awhile
Hope this made sense, English is not first language lol
Coming Out
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader, Kate Bishop x Reader
Summary: You come out to your parents for the first time
Angst, Comfort
Warnings: Mentions of Homophobia?, Mentions of fears of being disowned, if I missed any, please let me know | 0.9K
AC: Thank you for sending this! I am also open to an alternatives to this! If you want Reader to come out as anything, I would be happy to write it! 
A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist
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For months now, you couldn’t come to terms with the feelings you were having. You knew deep down that your mothers wouldn’t judge you or disown you but still, the thought of coming out to your parents brought its worries. You’ve known since you started high school that you were a lesbian, you’ve never looked at a boy and thought about how they looked or ever having a little crush on any. But you found yourself crushing hard on a girl in your history class. 
Kate Bishop. What could you say about the girl with blue eyes and long dark hair without falling harder for her? She was funny, carefree and extremely skilled at archery. You ended up helping her with some history homework which is how the two of you formed a friendship, a friendship which soon led to a relationship. Being a sixteen-year-old and having a girl in your room wasn’t something that your parents worried about, in fact, they never had a reason to worry. You’d never been open about your sexuality with them, but you also almost never showed them any interest in a romantic life for them to have questions about. 
Well, Wanda did. Sometimes you’d come home from Kate’s house with a flustered look and your lips as red as strawberries. She didn’t want to scare you or make you think you were in trouble for anything, but it was something Wanda noticed and did bring up to Nat who was now her wife of 8 years. 
You wanted to tell them; you really did. You wanted them to meet Kate and for Kate to meet them but any time you thought to bring it up, your stomach turned and suddenly you were telling Kate that you couldn’t do it. But something changed in you tonight. It was time and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let the feeling in your stomach change your mind. 
Wanda and Nat were washing up the dishes from dinner, Wanda handing the wet plates to Nat to dry and put away when you had interrupted them. “Is everything okay love?” Wanda asked, drying her hands on the clean hand towel. You nodded, “I just need to talk to you both about something, its important” you replied. 
“Okay, how about we sit in the dining room” Your mother, Nat, suggested in a soft tone. You smiled softly in reply before wandering into the dining room and taking a seat, waiting for your mothers to take theirs. They sat together across from you, looking at them as they waited for you to speak only made your stomach turn more than before. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes dropped to your hands that were in your lap as you picked at your nails. 
“I….I don’t know how to say it” you said almost too quietly. 
“Whatever it is honey, we are here to listen” Nat replied, “did something happen?” She asked. You shook your head, “N-no, thing has happened, but something might?” You looked up slowly. Your reply only worried your mothers more. 
“What do you mean sweetheart?” Wanda asked. You could tell by your mom’s tone that your comment added more to their worries. 
“I mean-“ you sighed, trying to rack your brain for the right words to form but all you could think of was how nervous you were feeling and how you were starting to think this was a bad idea. “Y/n, it’s okay, just say whatever comes to mind” Nat said softly. You looked to her and nodded, taking a moment to gather yourself. 
“Well, I guess I know you both won’t judge or disown me, but I guess I am just worried about others” you started, “Mom, Ma, I like girls and I have a girlfriend” the words flew from your lips. Both of your mothers smiled at you, “oh honey, how long have you had that built up?” Wanda asked. 
“I guess I’ve known I’m a lesbian for a year but Kate and I, we started dating two months ago” you replied with honesty. 
“Kate as in your friend Kate? The one you have study dates with?” Nat asked, just wanting to know more about the young teen who has stolen your heart. You nodded, “I really want you guys to meet her, like properly. Not just in passing when you pick me up from school”
“We would love to meet her” Nat replied with another soft smile, “but you are studying at those study dates, right?” She added slightly rising her brow. Your eyes widened at her suggestion, and you were quick to close those thoughts down. “Yes, I promise!” You replied. 
“Sweetheart, what did you mean that you’re worried about what others might think? has somebody said something?” Wanda asked, bring the topic back to your comment that she couldn’t forget. 
“Oh, I guess I was just overthinking things” you said. Your mind now reminding you that all the people who love you would never judge you for this, if they were to do so, they would be judging your parents as well and you knew that would never go down well. 
“How do you feel about Kate coming over for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll cook” Wanda smiled. 
“I’d really like that” you replied, trying to hide the giddy smile that tugged at your lips, “so would Kate” you added.
Natasha stood up and walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you and placing a kiss on the top of your head, “we love you so much” she whispered, “and I’m really happy for you detka” she added. Her loving support really helped push any other negative thoughts you were having away. You knew you could never doubt the love and support from your parents and you were glad you were finally confident enough to open up to them.
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Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | @sxlfishbrokenheart | 
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silkval · 10 months
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♠】 find out what goes on behind the scenes with the darling of your choice!
send an ask with the name of your darling and the question numbers you would like answered, and you will get your request!☆
》 content desc/warnings
absolutely feral blade, like kneeling at ur feet n panting kinda feral, reserved-ish blade, reader does not hesitate to knock down blades ego (and he finds it hot), a little fluffy, but also mentions of corpses lol, …and fucking around said corpses, honestly not a lot of smut just suggestive, both reader and blades anatomy is not specified so go wild
★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★
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Ⅱ 》 what is the strangest place they've had sex with you?
not exactly a place in particular, but- yknow, in front of a few… not-very-alive looking bodies. what? he couldn't help himself- how could he, when you just looked so damn good after a fight? chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, that sharp gleam in your eyes and a vicious snarl curled at your features… it took less than a beat before he was dropped on his knees in front of you, panting like a dog in heat and practically drooling as much as the surrounding corpses bled… safe to say that was certainly one of the most ‘messy’ lovemaking session you two indulged in.
Ⅲ 》 do they wear lingerie or anything special for you?
honestly, the guy is a little reserved- at least when he first met you. always stayed modest when training; wearing a plain compression shirt when training compared to some of his other colleagues who went shirtless, preferring to change within his own quarters than in the changing barracks, so its safe to say it took him a while to muster up the courage to start wearing more revealing casual wear around you. it started with the occasional silk blouse with a few buttons loose- flustered and nervous about his little attempt of showing off to you yet you'd never guess from his blank stare, aside from the faintest tint of red on his cheeks. but now? oh, he will not hesitate to show off- now, half the damn time you see him he’ll be shirtless; comfortable as ever in your presence, he absolutely bathes in your attention now with no shame.
Ⅳ 》 what is the one kink they have they will never admit they have?
…teasing. oh, does it get to him. since he's always in such a position of power (except with you, of course), he's used to never getting any backtalk or any kind of retaliation- so when he first heard your idle challenge of his skills, sly drawl in question of his abilities or a smug grin with a dare of him to prove himself- he went weak. you had expected a haughty retaliation or at least a roll of his eyes- but certainly not… this. your darling had esssentially just turned into a mess; pupils blown wide, lips holding a slight quiver and silent as ever- before hastily snapping out a jumbled reply as he averted his gaze although it was painfully obvious how affected he was by just a simple tease.
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...did not expect that many asks 4 blade but I am so not complaining. he is such a loser and I luv writing for him
also tysm @sh1-n0bu!! i was so surprised to see ur username pop up in my inbox cuz I've looked up to your writings sososo much and oml you are such a sweetheart tysm💙💙
(also trying something out- just posting as usual instead of replying to an ask as the reach on my last post was. shiiit)
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onlyswan · 3 months
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dreamboat | jjk (2)
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summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.
non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 15.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k
warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho
<- part one (wc: 14.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)
note: yaaay full fic is out 🥹💕 i’ve been so attached to these two for the past month i’m gonna miss them sm :( reblogs and feedback are appreciated i’d love to hear your thoughts 🥺 p.s. it does get pretty heavy so pls take care of urself while reading 🫂 hugs and kisses
jungkook lets out a big yawn, removing his glasses so he can wipe off the sleepy tears from his eyes. his phone pings with new text messages and he peers down at the table to read them. 
  01:18am
stop texting.
why are you still awake? you have that big presentation tomorrow. 
you need your brain functioning at full capacity so you can answer the prof’s questions.
he types out his response.
  01:20am
i want to sleep too but i’m not yet done practicing 🥲
if you’re on a mission to make him fall hopelessly in love, it would be safe to say that you’re succeeding. instead of being a distraction, here you are showing concern for his health and motivating him about his studies. he’s not used to having this kind of dynamic with the people he likes. usually he’d be stubborn and stay on his phone, but he puts it down so he can refocus on his slides. he’s excited to do his presentation well and gush about it with you at the end of the day.
twenty minutes later, a rapping at the door disrupts his concentration. 
“he better not be drunk.” he grumbles on his way to the door.
no one else would disturb him at this time but taehyung. 
but it’s not taehyung.
it’s you. 
“i didn’t wake you, did i?” 
“no, no- i was still-” he takes a glimpse at his messy desk. “practicing for the presentation… uhm, i thought you were at work?”
“we don’t have work today.”
you nonchalantly bring out a glass full of green goop from your back, encouraging him to take it.
“here, drink this.”
he stares at it in bewilderment as he slowly accepts it. “what’s this?”
“bedtime smoothie.” 
you sense his disgust and foreboding.
“there’s bananas and cherry juice in there.”
that knowledge emboldens him to take a sip. he licks off the mustache it leaves on top of his lips. “hmm, not bad!” 
“i told you so.” you send him a tight-lipped smile which disappears in two seconds. “do you want some help practicing?”
“oh, that’s right.” his eyes widen. “you’re good at speaking!”
he steps aside so you can pass through the narrow entrance. 
“please come in.”
jungkook is compelled to make himself clear. he hasn’t invested on a shelf. never found the time. his room may look like a mess to an outsider’s eyes but he has an organized system and he’s incredibly resourceful. 
“jungkook… you can’t live like this.”
is it that bad?
his jaw slacks when you pick up a plastic bag on the floor and begin throwing in the scattered empty cans and bottles of caffeine on and around his desk, including the one he hasn’t finished drinking yet. that— he won’t win defending.
“you’ll die at this rate.” you rebuke him calmly. “do you even drink water?” 
“of course i do!” he proceeds to drink the smoothie you made for him. “but you drink a lot of coffee too.”
“not anymore,” you head to his fridge after dumping the plastic bag in the trash. “i’m already adjusted to my job… i’m taking these.”
you bring out the two remaining cans of energy drinks and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie. 
“you can’t just take them!”
you ignore his protest. “is the smoothie good? you like it, right?”
his shoulders deflate in defeat. he takes another gulp and swallows, nodding happily. “i like it.” 
“then i’ll make you an energy-boosting one when you need it. i received fruit baskets at work. they’d only go bad if i try to eat everything alone.” 
“sounds like a sweet deal,” he grins. 
he’s definitely not complaining. the artificial flavoring of the energy drinks pale in comparison to the real thing. 
“okay, let’s get started then.” you pad over to his desk. 
you hand him his laptop which is displaying his powerpoint before making yourself comfortable on his chair. 
he stands infront of you awkwardly. “we’re really doing this?”
“we are,” you reply curtly, sinking further into the chair. it’s a pretty big chair, even for him. it’s endearing to see you play around with it. “are you nervous? you can’t be nervous.”
“i’m not,” he lies. “i’m a professional!” 
you have no idea that you make him more nervous than having forty other people in the same room. 
he sighs. “hold this for me then.”
you take the glass into your hands, sipping a little. he clears his throat and pretends that didn’t affect him at all. 
“okay, let’s start… good mor-”
“wait-” you shake your head, demandingly waving your hand to the right. “wrong slide.”
 
“where are you? i thought you were going to help me with my project?” 
jimin, a friend he met through a school organization two years ago, begins coughing dramatically over the phone. “jungkook, i’m sorry. i’m feeling under the weather.”
jungkook grimaces, stopping on his tracks to berate him. “hyung, i can hear the dj music!”
“ah, yes…” he can practically hear the wheels in jimin’s brain turn. “actually, i’m about to leave the club! since i’m not feeling so well.”
“wow,” he huffs out a laugh. “you’re really terrible.”
“i’m serious! let’s reschedule tomorrow. i’ll buy you dinner so we can catch up too.” 
“fine,” he blows a loud breath. 
“i love you, jungkook-ah.” jimin proclaims with exaggerated affection. 
he makes a noise of disgust. “you’re really drunk.”
“oh, why aren’t you saying it back?” jimin angrily questions him. 
“maybe i will, after you buy me food.” 
“okay,” jimin cackles. “i’ll see you tomorrow then.” 
“okay, goodbye.”
he drops the call, still uncertain whether jimin was lying or not. either way, he gets a free meal and he no longer feels the need to complain.
he shrugs and continues his journey home. 
that is until he inhales the unmistakable scent of smoke from the alleyway. 
again, it could be anybody, but there’s a peculiar feeling that won’t let him move forward. deja vú is what they call it. it is often described as bittersweet, but jungkook is nervous. scared even. 
he doesn’t want his gut feeling to be right. 
he knows what your sobs sound like, their effect on him and his heart that is awfully weak when it comes to you, but he wants to be wrong so badly. 
right then and there, jungkook faces a dilemma.
those who hide do not want to be found. 
he has the choice to keep walking, pretend that he was never here. that it doesn’t hurt him to walk away. he can do what he failed to do the first time and not jump in to interpret your crying as a cry for help. 
he stands there like a fool waiting for the stars to spell out the correct answer for him to read. 
unfortunately for him, life doesn’t work that way and there isn’t even one to wish upon. 
you flicked his forehead and erased his memories. if he makes the same mistake twice, then maybe he can use that as an excuse to lessen the burden of regret. 
 
you flinch and lift your head in fear when something bumps against your knee, but that fear soon morphs into an entirely new fear when you perceive the person sitting infront of you. 
your bloodshot eyes make out jungkook’s features in the dim light. 
you’re no stranger to that look. you know what you look like. the cigarette tastes terrible, it doesn’t smell better with liquor either. there are teardrops on the ground and your sobs are caught in your throat and they come out as hiccups. you wouldn’t even dare to call yourself a mess, because scattered pieces of a broken whole float on the surface and sometimes miraculously wash ashore. you’re at the rock bottom being eaten alive and you’re not going anywhere else. 
“just walk away,” you croak out, pushing him away with the hand not holding the cigarette. 
he doesn’t budge. you don’t know if it’s because you’re too weak or he’s too strong. 
“i can’t leave you like this.” 
“you can,” you argue. 
“you don’t have to be alone. i’m here.” 
he holds your arms, coaxing you to recognize the sincerity in his eyes. those wide doe eyes, always shining when you reflect on their irises. you wish they could stay that way forever. you wish you could be at peace with that. 
“you can confide in me. you can use me. whatever you need to feel better. ____, please.” 
“you can’t help me.” you bluntly assert. before he begins begging. before he says more swoon-worthy words that would break down the walls you’ve built. “i appreciate the thought, but nothing you can do will make this better.” 
god knows that you’re yearning to hear them, but you still don’t know how much of it you can trust.  
“maybe i can!” he interjects. desperately. his grip on you tightens a little. it steadies your body as your mind and heart fall apart, but you feel suffocated. 
“jungkook, i don’t want to fight right now.” 
“if you just let me try, ____. i’m here for you. i swear i won’t pass judgement or-”  
“you can’t! okay? you can’t!” you break down, uncontrollable sobs making your words less coherent. “you’re just wasting your time!” 
with every morsel of strength you have left, you force yourself to stand up. an unnamed object clatters on the ground and you shove jungkook to the ground without meaning to. 
a combination of hurt and shock flashes across his face. you become racked with guilt.
however, this is what you wanted. this is for the best. you’re supposed to live a quiet life and not get too close with anyone, but you don’t cause a person this type of pain, and you don’t feel this guilty about it, if your hearts were never intertwined. 
you should be the one to walk away. 
every step you take to escape from him is heavy. you’re confused by the contradictions between your mind and heart and the last thing you need right now is confusing. what else can you do but run? 
jungkook wraps his arms around you from behind, stopping you on your tracks. 
“what are you doing?” 
the world stops for a little while.
“let g- let me go!” 
you struggle out of his embrace, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed he let you go so easily. 
“you think a hug’s going to make me feel better and fix my life? are you that naive…? wow, i envy you. if it was that easy, i wouldn’t be at this fucking dumpster with you!”
maybe you’re even angry that he did, pounding away at his chest with rigid fists to break his heart too. your throat is painful and rough from screaming but the thought of losing your voice doesn’t occur to you. apparently, you don’t care that you’re burning your lungs either. the world may very well end at this moment because that’s what it feels like. you have nothing left to lose but this vessel— and this vessel is heavy, worn-out, and incurable. 
you’re an overflowing sink of adrenaline rush, shaking and tearing apart at the seams.
“i never would’ve ruined my hair with this- this stupid color. i wouldn’t be getting cursed at by bigoted strangers because they hate my accent…” 
your forehead collapses on jungkook’s chest. a string of sobs follow the words that were forcefully uttered against your better judgment. you would’ve been fine after a smoke and a good cry, not processing anything so you can settle with being numb instead of jaded. 
“i’d still be studying. i’d become a doctor. i wouldn’t give a fuck about fishes and what they can and can’t eat.” 
 
for the first time, your laugh stabs him in the chest instead of making his heart flutter. 
“i’d be living a good life not being bombarded by someone who-” you hit his chest with every word spoken with gritted teeth. “wants to be the fucking hero. i don’t need you!” 
there’s no way. you don’t mean that. you’re just angry. jungkook convinces himself in his head as he openly takes the hits. he did say you could confide in him—use him—and you’re doing it right now. he just didn’t know he’d have to grow thicker skin on the spot to be what you need.
your icy glare pierces through him and renders him motionless. 
“you can’t do anything, so please, don’t feel bad for me.” you sneer. “it’s making me feel bad for you.” 
 
you’ve stormed off and jungkook stays right where you left him, wiping away his tears. the last time he cried was when his ex-girlfriend broke up with him. that was over a year ago, it only dawns on him now. 
you’ve been the only person in his mind since that one sunny june day. 
where he stands, the autumn winds are getting colder and the winter is fast approaching. 
just as fast your lives were weaved into a blooming wildflower did it also begin to wither. 
jungkook does want to save you, but he doesn’t want to be a hero. after all the time you’ve spent together, do you sincerely see him as someone who values self-interest most of all? the truth did come out, the snide truth, a bitter pill he can’t swallow. you don’t want to be here. he can’t save you. it can’t be possible when he’s part of the picture you can’t stomach to look at. 
“hyung,” he tries to be strong but his voice wavers, echoing the wretched state of him. “are you still at the club?” 
“i’ll turn on my location.” jimin responds without question, which jungkook is thankful for. “call me when you’re near. be safe, got it?”
“yes, hyung,” he ends the call. 
he inhales sharply, hoping that would alleviate the weight on his chest and allow him to move his feet. the heavy smell of burnt chemicals still hangs in the air. even after everything, he’s envious of the discarded stick of drug on the ground for having touched your lips. 
jungkook turns to leave, but is interrupted by a small object caught underneath his shoe. he picks it up for inspection— a blue lighter hand painted with a goldfish. 
he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 
 
you woke up with a pounding headache, burdened with immense regret you assume. you deserve it. you don’t remember the exact words you said but you only scream when you don’t know what you’re talking about. you pushed away the only person who cared enough to sit with you in the dark. the line between right and wrong is blurring. you don’t know what you’re doing with your life anymore, if you’re doing anything so that it could be heading somewhere.  
you thought life couldn’t possibly get worse, but here you are anxiously nibbling at your nails as you wait for a man to reply to your texts because you’re scared of losing him.
  08:25am
jungkook i'm sorry about what happened last night i never meant to act that way and hurt you. i was out of my mind
i know you really care about me and i'm grateful for that
please forgive me
  09:13am
[attached image]
you gaze wistfully into the aquarium. the fishes swim around with considerably more energy after their breakfast, and it drives you to wonder if jungkook fed them dinner. last night was the first night you received no messages from jungkook, not even an image alone. 
“i think i fucked it up with your dad.”  
you spot dahlia, and clementine, and coral, and tangerine… blissfully unaware of you drowning in misery.
accordingly, the wildcard emerges from the shipwreck. it swims to you, the glass acting as the barrier that prevents it from kissing your nose. 
it doesn’t do this to jungkook, so you like to think that you’re special. you feel guilty that you failed to treat it the same.
“poor thing,” you hang your head in shame, sniffling. “we haven’t even named you yet.”
 
you learned from the new security guard on the night shift that jungkook requested for her to take over feeding for the meantime. three more days pass without any sign or trace of him, and yet you still send him your good morning pictures and you hang out at the lobby waiting for him to come home. 
he has to come home soon. 
he still lives here… right?
  11:47pm  
how long will you ignore me?  
where are you? i'll come to you   
please, let’s talk
 
you jolt on your seat when your phone vibrates with a ping!
  12:01am
jungkook:
meet me at the rooftop
 
you are charged with joy and relief as much as confusion. 
there’s… a rooftop? 
 
you stand at the door staring at jungkook’s back, gathering all courage to face him despite your shame eating away at you.
“i didn’t know tenants were allowed here.”
“we’re not,”
he looks back at you, and surprisingly enough, his charming smile melts away your anxiety. you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or bad thing. it’s not right for you to fall in love.
“why are you still standing there?” he chuckles. he sits on a low table with his legs crossed, feet tucked beneath his thighs. he pats the space next to him. “here, sit.” 
with a nod, you close the door behind you. you sit beside him, but with considerable distance, like the first time you sat next to each other. 
“the view is quite nice.”
in consideration of the time, you didn’t expect so many lights. they look like shining stars from where you are, only that you can actually reach for them if you try. you even spot a ferris wheel. although, you’re not certain if it’s from the amusement park jungkook works at.
“it is, isn’t it?”
“do you go up here often?”
“not since the aquarium became our spot.” 
our spot.
you smile to yourself, eyes falling on your lap as you mindlessly fiddle with your fingers. 
“i’m sorry… for what happened.” you pause to swallow the lump in your throat, breathing shakily. 
as ever, it’s difficult to apologize to someone and agree that there are dispensable parts of you. you’re scared that you might cry again infront of him. it never ends well. 
“i-i was having a bad day, and i didn’t want to drag you down with me. but i got overwhelmed by my emotions and i said words i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that. i’m sorry.” 
“hey, i understand.” he replies kindly. “it’s also my fault.”
“no, it’s not.” you jump in, not being able to stand him taking blame. “you’re a really good person, jungkook.”
he shakes his head. “i should’ve backed off when you told me to leave.” 
“but i do like being with you.” 
“and you mean that?”
he gazes at you with those endearing doe eyes. you look somewhere else to quell the funny feeling in your heart. 
“of course i do.”
jungkook crosses the distance between you, teasingly bumping his shoulder against yours. “i like being with you too.”
just an hour ago you thought you’d lost him, now he’s here effortlessly making you laugh. perhaps you do take life too seriously, submissive to fear. you weren’t always like this. you wish you could unlearn the new way that you function. 
“so do you forgive me or should i grovel more?” 
“i forgive you.” he rolls his eyes. “i’m not that mean.” 
“apparently i’m the mean one between us.”
“you are,” he chuckles, leaning back and balancing himself with his hands anchored behind on the table. 
for some sick reason, this new position of his leaves you hot and bothered. thankfully, you’ve mastered the art of maintaining a calm demeanor. albeit, it’s not always that you use it for this reason.
“you seriously hurt my feelings back there, you know that?”
“i’m so sorry. i’m really, really sorry.” you apologize more expressively within the more comfortable space the both of you created. “…when is your birthday?”
his forehead wrinkles in confusion at the random question. “why?”
“you’re my friend.” you point out. “we should know these things at least.”
“it’s on september one.” 
“what?!” 
he blinks innocently. “what?” 
“it’s already november!” you point out, taken aback by the fact that you totally missed it. “why didn’t you tell me?”
“you were busy with work. besides, it wasn’t a big deal. i just had beer and meat with my friends.” he shrugs, brushing it off. “when’s yours?”
you rise on your feet, dust off your bottom, and begin marching towards the door.
“where are you going…? yah, ____!”
“i need to do something.” you vaguely inform him, waving your hand. “stay there! wait for me!” 
 
“what’s taking so long?” jungkook thinks out loud, scratching his head. 
it’s been fifteen minutes since you left. you couldn’t have forgotten about him already, could you? that might hurt him worse than when you were screaming and punching his chest. he slept over at taehyung’s dorm for a few nights, hoping to find some peace and clarity within a different space, but he was pretty much ready to forgive you when you texted him to apologize, then followed it up with a photo of coral eating. however, taehyung went on and on about his wounded pride, and maybe he did want to see you grovel and feel that he is at some level of importance to you. 
he perks up when the door opens and your head pops out of nowhere, peeking. when did you put on a cap and face mask? did you go out? anyway, you’re so cute, he gushes to himself. 
“close your eyes!” 
“why would i do that?”
“just do it!” you demand with an angry pout. 
“okay, okay- fine!” he surrenders. “i’m closing them now.” 
“no peeking. i see your eyelashes moving.”
“how do you even see from there?!” 
he hears your scoff and the clicking of your shoes as you walk. “you’re not sleek, you know?” 
a series of rustling. a mystery object placed on the table. he gets a whiff of your perfume, powdery and fruity sweet, the next second, you’re tying a silk scarf over his eyes. 
“what’s happening?” he laughs nervously. 
he knows that is not what’s happening, but the impure thoughts enter his mind anyway. 
“i need a minute.” 
you sit beside him, your knee bumping against his. he hears more movements take place. 
“can i remove it now?”
“i said a minute.”
he frowns impatiently. “a minute has passed though.”
“no, it hasn’t.” you counter. “now hush and cover your ears.”
“cover my ears?” he repeats to make sure he heard you correctly.
“yes!”
“why?” he whines. “what is this about?”
“just do it, please?” you plead with him sweetly, covering his ears with your hands as if to demonstrate. 
and since he’s already too deep into this, he obeys your third instruction. he puts his hands over yours, and then you slip away, leaving him covering his ears the way that you wanted. 
“okay, you can look now!”
jungkook removes the scarf over his eyes, and discovers a sight so beautiful, he wants to cry that he can’t permanently capture it in a polaroid. 
this is the first time he’s seeing you in this light, the warm orange glow of birthday candles that paints you spellbinding golden. you’re beaming at him, with a rare smile that reaches your eyes, as you hold up a round chocolate cake topped by fresh strawberries.  
just when he thought it was impossible to fall in love with you harder, you begin singing the happy birthday song. instead of clapping, you sway your body ever so slowly and gracefully. what is arguably considered the jolliest song on earth, you transform into a soft lullaby— the kind that flies you to the night sky and tucks you into bed on the moon, gathers the fluffy clouds and handcrafts them into pillows and a blanket. your voice is light and delicate, sweet as candy. it is an instrument on its own and you do not need anything else. he never knew you were a good singer.
“happy birthday, dear jungkook~ happy birthday to you…” 
this is his best birthday yet, and it’s not even his actual birthday. 
jungkook is stupidly and hopelessly in love with you. 
he welcomes doom, hangs its coat, and pours it a hot cup of tea. 
“i hope you like chocolate. i fought someone for this.” you shyly confess with a laugh. “turns out there’s not many bakeries open at midnight.”
he is speechless. 
his gaze falls on your lap for a moment, where lies an opened plastic clamshell container, two strawberries too small compared to the ones decorating the cake. on the table, a fruit knife sits on top of the cake box. 
you even decorated the bare sides of the cake with half strawberries. he doesn’t think he has seen someone do that yet.  
“i- i like it so much.” he stutters. “you made the cake so pretty.” 
“thank you!” you beam at the compliment. “okay, time to make a wish.” 
he panics a little. he doesn’t know if it’s only a personal or perhaps a universal thing, but he tends to feel pressured when he has to make a birthday wish. he always wants a lot of things. 
“five candles means ‘i’m sorry and happy birthday’ by the way.”
but there is five candles, so maybe he is free to be greedy this time. 
he slowly flutters his eyes shut, and he takes his time to think. after whispering his wish to the universe, he blows out all of the candles. 
“what did you wish for?” 
there is five candles, but he only wished for one thing. 
“if i tell you…” he begins, transfixed eyes tracing down to your lips. “will you make it come true?” 
they part slightly as your chest begins to heave, cranberry stained and inviting. 
he yearns, he craves. he doesn’t want to live with regrets, haunted by the what if’s. all or nothing. you deserve his all. he surrenders everything to your court for the touch of your lips. 
are you thinking what he’s thinking? do you feel the way he does? 
tell him he’s not the only one losing his mind. please. 
and when your eyes lock, there is a palpable electricity none of you can deny. 
“it’s for your birthday. you don’t have to ask.” 
again, the best birthday ever.
without another word, he crosses the short distance, pressing his lips against yours. 
there is no fireworks like in the movies and fairytales. instead, he gets flashes of memories in his mind. all those awkward and comfortable moments, stolen glances, blushing and stuttering, captured images, sleepless nights, tears shed. even the bitter memories inserted make this kiss much sweeter. it’s infinitely better than he could’ve ever imagined. 
he removes his hand tenderly cupping your cheek, also the other that is anchored on the table, blindly searching until he successfully engulfs your delicate hands in his. he holds them, and the board carrying the cake, tightly. 
when you smile against his lips, so does he. you give him a firm peck, so hot that he almost falters on his seat, before breaking away. 
“let’s put this aside first.” you giggle, guiding your restless hands to set it down on the table. “you have chocolate all over your hand.” 
jungkook can hear you, but he’s not listening. he immediately goes for your lips again, and ends up sorely disappointed when you dodge him. 
“whoa, wait. you’ll smear chocolate on my face-”
“you said i don’t have to ask.” he argues.
you narrow your eyes at him.
he hurries with a solution. “i’ll keep my hands behind my back.” and true to his words, he acts as if his hands have been cuffed. 
“that works,” you shrug. 
he is to blame for his nasty torture when you drag yourself closer to him, draping your legs over his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 
you’re practically sitting on his lap and he can’t touch you with his dirty hands. ridiculous.
there is the urge to complain, then lost and forgotten after you seal his lips with yours. he is the luckiest man on earth tonight.
 
“will you stay the night?”
jungkook’s cheeks are beginning to ache, but he can’t stop smiling for the life of him. how could he not? you’re lying on his bed, and this time you’re both under the covers. it can’t be more perfect than this, the way you’re mirroring each other. he’s admiring your face and you haven’t averted your eyes from his either. 
at this moment, it feels like nothing else in the world matters.
“if i’m being honest, i’m still scared of the ghost.”
“is he bothering you again?” he quirks an eyebrow, prepared to brawl with a bothersome spirit. he is suddenly aware that the lamp is the only source of light in the apartment. “do we turn on another light?”
“no,“ you chuckle at his reaction. “but he appeared in my dream once after that.”
“what about me?”
“you?” you send him a puzzled look.
he grins toothily. “do i appear in your dreams?”
that earns him a sarcastic roll of the eyes. 
“why is it suddenly about you?”
“i’m helping you get your mind off the ghost!”
“can we just… i don’t know…” you avoid his intense gaze, chewing on your bottom lip. “cuddle?”
this is real, right? he isn’t hallucinating? 
he already made out with you until the two of you couldn’t breathe. surely, cuddling is nothing compared to that… but he has pined for you for months. going from zero to a hundred is giving him emotional motion sickness. like a rollercoaster, but arguably more dangerous. and he shamelessly lives for that. 
“oh, so you got mad at me last week for hugging you but now you want to cuddle?” he mocks humorously. 
“change is the only constant in life.” you say as a matter of fact.
and jungkook isn’t very fond of that knowledge, but if it led you to his arms tonight, then he can try to make peace with it. 
he spreads his arms, and you push yourself close with an arm over his waist, until you’re properly hugging him and he has your body cocooned with his. 
he breathes out a sigh. this is heaven.
“so? have you dreamt of me?”
you make a noise of protest, cheek squished against his chest.
“come on, humor me.” he coaxes you into revelation. “it’s my birthday.”
“…we went on a ferris wheel once.“
“really? were we on a date?”
“i don’t remember.”
“what were we doing?” he continues poking.
“i don’t remember.”
“that’s it?” he grumbles. “you must remember something else.”
you giggle. “it was a long time ago, jungkook.”
“and you didn’t dream of me again after that?”
“stop,” you draw back just enough to see his face. “we have more important things to discuss.” 
jungkook gulps nervously. 
more important things like what? the meaning of that kiss…? um, kisses? the label of your relationship? are you really bringing it up right away like this? he imagined he would be the one to do it. 
“there’s one fish left without a name.”
oh… his face falls. 
“have you thought of one?”
“i have, but…” you jut out your bottom lip. “don’t we decide together?” 
beneath the stoic demeanor you parade around wearing, he realizes that you’re just like everybody else, craving to be held and to spend quality time with someone who makes you feel special. 
he doesn’t hold back on kissing you.
“we will!” he pinches your cheek, which brings out your smile. “i’ll tell you what i think.”
“that goldfish actually reminds me of you.”
“really?” 
you nod eagerly.
“how so?” 
“the both of you,” you giggle. “always follow me around.”
his jaw falls slack, not expecting to be called out like that. you’re having fun with the fact that he’s wrapped around your finger, huh?
“so you want to name it after me?” 
“something like that, but let’s make your name sound cute.”
you hum as the gears in your brain turn. on the other hand, jungkook is not thinking at all, he’s memorizing your face. maybe it’s an artist’s sickness aggravated when faced with the apple of their eye. 
“jung… kook…” you take a long pause, lips left in the shape ‘O’ due to the pronunciation of his name. “kook…?”
“you know, i do get called jungkookie sometimes.”
“jungkookie…?” you slowly repeat the nickname. 
seconds later, your face lights up. 
“then how about kookie? cookie but with-” you draw the letter into the thin air using your index finger. “a ‘k’?” 
jungkook is relieved that you instantly put two and two together. he didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. honestly, rather than a cute vibe, he’s going for the manly vibe. 
“it sounds so cute. what do you think?”
“i think so too!” 
as long as it makes you look this happy, he’d accept any name that you come up with. 
“okay, it’s official.” you return to cuddling up to him. “i can sleep peacefully from now on.” 
was that bothering you? you truly do care for them. he thinks you might care more than he does. 
“let’s sleep…” 
before closing his eyes, he plants an affectionate kiss on top of your head. the truth is he doesn’t want to sleep. if it was up to him, this moment would stretch into forever. as you slip into unconsciousness, he tries his damn hardest to resist it. he yawns, wipes his sleepy tears dry on the pillowcase, caresses your hair and forces his hand to move again when it falls on the bed. 
“jungkook?” 
he hears your voice in its tiniest form yet.
you’re still awake? 
he barely is anymore.
“mhmm?”
“i really am,” he feels a light tug at the back of his shirt, your weak hand forming a closed fist. “sorry.”
 
jungkook wakes up at 5am with his stomach grumbling for food. your positions shifted throughout the night and he lies there cuddling you from behind, spending five minutes or so dwelling on regrets. he pictures the cake in the fridge, still in pristine condition, and how different it could’ve been if he didn’t stop himself after three stolen strawberries. 
after that, he thinks about breakfast. rolled omelette would be amazing right now. he just stocked up on side dishes too. only problem is he forgot to buy eggs. 
who goes to the supermarket and somehow manages to miss the whole egg section? 
jeon jungkook, apparently. 
a challenge arises: getting out of bed without waking you up. he isn’t a novice, but he isn’t exactly an expert either. he figures it’s just based on luck, and he’s… very unlucky.
he manages to slip out the arm you’re using as a pillow, replacing it with a real one hoping that you wouldn’t notice the difference in your sleep. a second later and you’re already stretching out your limbs. 
“where are you going?” you utter raspily, swollen eyes from sleep peering at him.
“out- to buy eggs for breakfast.” he replies in a low voice.
you start to harshly rub off the sleep from your eyes. 
“i’ll go with you.”
“there’s no need.” he strokes your hair gently. “sleep more.”
you shake your head stubbornly. “i need to buy something too.”
you drag yourself off of the bed before he can stop you. from your toes down to the heel, you slightly stumble when your feet touch the ground.
“i’ll brush my teeth.”
 
once you and jungkook step out of the building, you both find that it’s still before sunrise, but the street lamps are already turned off. everything under the sky is washed with a shade of blue. it feels almost illegal to be here with no other souls walking the streets, but you can breathe a little easier, and you’re warm because jungkook is holding your hand inside the pocket of his jacket. 
what was supposed to be a stolen glance turns into an enamored gaze.
“you look pretty.” 
“so do you,” the two corners of your mouth lift into a quick, shy smile. 
“yah, jungkook!”
that’s taehyung’s voice.
his best friend approaches from the opposite direction, a pomeranian on a leash waddling and wagging its tail beside him. despite the distance, jungkook can already see his smirk poking fun at him. 
count on him to disrupt a perfectly romantic and peaceful moment.
as soon as they meet halfway, jungkook shows him a grimace. 
“what are you doing here?” 
“to return your camera,” he waves the silver film camera, its strap wrapped around his wrist. “i’m taking tannie on a walk so i decided i’d bring it over.”
“okay, give it and go on your way.” 
jungkook snatches it from him, wearing the camera around his wrist as the rightful owner. 
when taehyung finally sets his sight on you, jungkook’s fear of embarrassment instantly kicks in. if he says something stupid, he swears to god— he lets go of your hand in favor of putting his arm around your shoulder, gently tugging you closer to him. 
“you must be ____!” taehyung snaps his fingers when he, at last, recalls your name, which jungkook knows he’s grown tired of hearing. “nice to meet you! i’m taehyung.” 
“ah, yes…”
jungkook senses your awkwardness. he presses his lips into a thin line, sending his best friend a threatening glare that screams ‘i know i’m a hypocrite, but don’t embarrass me.’
“it’s nice to meet you too.” you offer him a polite bow. 
“yeontan seems to like you a lot.” taehyung laughs, gesturing at his dog who is nuzzling its face against your shin. 
jungkook also smiles in endearment. that’s another animal drawn to you for some unknown reason. he can’t say he’s surprised. 
“does he bite?” you cautiously ask.
“no, he’s nice. you can pet him.” 
you nod, bending down to gingerly scratch yeontan’s fluffy ears. “hello, yeontan.” you quietly greet him with a voice so sweet. 
“honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?” 
“must be when she rode the dreamboat before.”
“i don’t think that’s it though?” taehyung tilts his head, still racking his memories for your face. “i think i saw her more recently, but maybe not with pink hair.”
you stiffen beside jungkook, knees going weak out of the blue. you straighten up, but you keep your head slightly bowed down, hair falling over your face. 
“that’s impossible. maybe it was someone who looks like her.” 
“ah, maybe,” 
taehyung rubs the back of his neck, giving in to the theory.
“alright then, tannie is getting hyper.” he snorts at his pet trying to run away but is held back by its leash. “see you around, ____! i’ll see you at work, bro!” 
“sorry about that.” jungkook intertwines your fingers again. “let’s go.”
he moves forward, and you get left behind. 
“____?”
his concern grows when he observes your despondent body language. 
“are you okay?” 
“huh? oh- i’m okay.” 
you snap out of it, but as you walk to the convenience store together, jungkook gets the impression that something is weighing on your mind. 
 
jungkook watches you move around the store through the viewfinder of his camera, zooming in on your face when you whip your head around. it fails to capture the countless packs of lozenges you’re hugging to your chest.
“miss ____, who are you buying so many candies for?” 
you blink down at them before innocently staring back at the camera. “they’re for my co-workers. it’s flu season so many of them are getting sick.” 
with the sun returning to reign over the vast sky, the shade of blue has been replaced by an orange hue. the two of you walk back to your apartment building in silence. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, if it’s his fault or not, but your mood changed after your encounter with taehyung. 
you’ve decided you want some space and jungkook respects that. the entire time, he thinks about how his hand feels empty without yours. is he being paranoid? he feels like he’s already woken up from a dream too good to be true, crafted out of his greatest fantasies, and he’s going to be thrust into a nightmare— learning that none of it was real. this endless push and pull with you, he’s grown to be somewhat ill at ease in your presence. 
he wants it to go away. 
he moves closer, content with the mere brush of the back of your fingers against his, but that small pleasure is robbed from him when you pull your hand away. 
“let’s stop here.” 
the decisive tone of your voice instantly fills him with dread. 
you turn to face him, and he searches your eyes for any trace of emotion. sadness, or fear, or even humor… but he gets nothing. 
“let’s stop seeing and texting each other.”
and he’s scared most of all when you’re impossible to read. just when he thought he had managed to slither past your walls, he is met by larger and stronger ones with welded spikes.
“what are you talking about?” 
“i don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” 
you said it like it’s nothing. like you haven’t consumed his every thought since he saw you crying and you broke his heart without him knowing your name. like you haven’t been breaking his heart over and over again and he still can’t bring himself to detach from you. 
“what is this joke? it’s not really funny.” 
but he laughs anyway, or else he’d start crying, and you’d want him less. 
“just forget all about me.” 
his muscles tense. even now, he doesn’t know if he’s angry, but he is lost and it hurts so much, and he doesn’t know how else to express it without appearing weak. 
“you think that’s something i can just do overnight?”
“what makes it so hard?” you raise your voice. the venom stings without the bite. “you don’t even know me that well!” 
“then what was last night even about?” he hisses, hands balling into fists. “did you do that just to fuck with my feelings? am i just a game to you? what the fuck is your problem, ____?”
“you told me to use you to make myself feel better!” 
it completely catches him off guard when you stomp your feet and produce guttural screams— it borders on a childish tantrum— you damage your throat in doing so, voice coming out high-pitched and scratched up. 
his jaw clenches, straining to hold back his tears. the sun has risen and you’ve come to your senses. he regrets opening his eyes and acknowledging the morning. 
“it didn’t work— is that what you’re saying? is that why you’re throwing me away?” 
he doesn’t get a verbal answer, but your glassy-eyed stare and labored breathing have answered enough. 
“wow, that hurts…” he chuckles sarcastically. “yah, seriously- i have to give it to you. i’m shocked… you’re good. you’re a good actor.” 
he uses his middle finger to wipe the corners of his eyes, acting as though they are tears of amusement.
“you know, out of everyone i liked… you have to be the most cruel.” 
jungkook’s pride has never been this crushed. he feels utterly infuriated and humiliated. yet another exchange of ‘i should have listened’ and ‘i told you so’ between him and his best friend. he’s also sick and tired of his heart leading him to the opposite direction of the love he deserves. 
“i hope you find some other lunatic who would let you use them too. have a good life.” 
this time around, he walks away, and he would like to think that he did it on his own terms. 
 
jungkook loses his appetite after that. he informs his manager that he won’t be able to go to work because he’s feeling under the weather, then he drags himself back to bed. 
your scent has clung to the pillowcase, the sheets… 
it’s unbearable.
despite his lack of energy, he forces himself to set up the extra bed on the floor. he expected himself to have difficulty falling asleep, but the amalgamation of physical and emotional exhaustion pulls him down under.
he wakes up again in the afternoon. he ignores the cake in the fridge, instead snacking on yogurt and crackers while watching a movie on his computer. he takes a long shower after and buries himself in assignments until dinner time rolls in. 
by this time, he assumes taehyung has blabbed about what he saw this morning. his friends must think he’s out here relishing in the honeymoon phase. how he wishes it was true. 
he has that whole carton of eggs but he doesn’t have it in him to cook anymore. maybe it’s best that he surrounds himself with people, disrupt his depressing thoughts with loud chatter, and so he makes plans to go to the street market. 
“wait!”
he sprints to the elevator, managing to slip his arm between the doors before they close entirely. 
under different circumstances, this would’ve been fate instead of bad luck.
you stand your ground as jungkook enters the elevator, not sparing him a glance. just like you wanted, he also treats you with indifference. it’s hard to breathe in an enclosed space with him now that he hates you. 
two girls from the eleventh floor enter; they stand infront of you and jungkook.
“did you find the video?” the girl infront of you, with the blonde hair, asks impatiently. 
“wait- i’m looking for it.” her friend, you assume, replies as she is focused on aggressively scrolling and tapping on her phone screen.
“having a sex scandal with your professor? wow, that’s really something. how does that even happen?” 
your blood runs cold.
from that statement alone, you can make an educated guess on what exactly they are talking about, but your brain tries to reject the thought. there are many scandals going around these days. maybe they’re talking about somebody else. you hope they are. does that make you a bad person?
“that’s not confirmed, though. the guy’s face doesn’t show in the video… oh, i found it!”
she presents her phone screen to the blonde-haired girl, and you feel as though gallons of ice have been dumped over your head. through the gap between their arms, you get a good view of your face. of the video you were forced to watch so you could acknowledge your sin… the video that not only damaged your reputation but stripped you away of everything. your dignity, your dreams, your people, the essence of your being. 
you don’t need to look to know that beside you, jungkook is also secretly watching. 
you’re trapped. 
“this was really popular at snu but it suddenly got spread outside. my cousin who studies there said the girl’s parents are like- super rich- and they tried to bribe the university, but she still got kicked out. i think her name is ____?”
you bow your head to hide your face, vision gradually going blurry. strangers drop your name so casually to tell the shortest life story known to man. they discard the majority of the parts, retain and distort what entertains them, and in the end, they decide who you are. 
you knew it was going to happen eventually, but this isn’t how you wanted jungkook to learn.
you didn’t want to be here for it. 
“wow, she’s going at it.”
a scandalized gasp. 
“no wonder men are going crazy over this. even the quality is-”
“insane, right?!” the storyteller whisper-shouts. 
“but… what if she doesn’t know she’s being recorded? getting kicked out sounds a bit unfair, no?” 
“no, no- she even holds the camera when they switch positions. watch!” 
you can’t. you can’t take it anymore. you turn away, squeezing your eyes shut in extreme anguish. 
you don’t realize that you’re shaking until jungkook holds your hand tightly, it’s almost crushing. 
“ah, what are you doing?! turn it off! turn it off! it’s too disgusting from this angle!” 
you look at him in shock, for a split moment you forgot he was there. his features have softened; so does your heart. 
although you can’t exactly figure out how he’s feeling, you’d take anything that isn’t disgust. 
the elevator reaches the ground floor. 
as the girls take their leave, you also attempt to step out— but jungkook doesn’t let you. he grips your hand tighter and he presses the button of your apartment floor. 
“why did you- i need to go to work…” you meant to chastise him, but your voice comes out small. 
“stay a little bit. it’s still early.” he speaks to you softly, wiping off the beads of cold sweat on your forehead. 
when did that happen? 
“no, i need to-” 
you feel dizzy; the walls are closing in on you. the turning of your stomach is bordering on intolerable. you lurch, pushing him away as you clamp a hand over your mouth and gag uncontrollably. you’ve had to experience this humiliation in school hallways, public spaces… in front of your friends, your parents; in the dean’s office. this is the first time your body is having this type of reaction; you feel physically sick, like your body is shutting down. 
he rubs your back as an effort to alleviate your ails. “are you okay?”
you could answer, but what’s the point? you’re breaking down in front of him again. you’re no longer the mystifying neighbor he obviously yet secretly cherishes. he has discovered the missing puzzle piece you could never bury even if you died trying. 
“did you enjoy it?”
“what?”
you wish he would stop looking at you with those big, sparkly eyes. at this moment, they’re making you feel small. 
“the video. was it fun watching it too?”
the silence is suffocating.
he utters your name. he doesn’t know what to say; you don’t know what you want to hear either.
“it doesn’t change the way i see you.”
“bullshit,” you spit out— a knee-jerk reaction. 
“look, i-i don’t know what happened but this isn’t right. you don’t deserve this. you can sue ever- wait! ____!”
the elevator opens and he chases after you, effectively blocking your path.
he has officially wore you down. 
“it’s not me,” you declare near to tears instead of pushing him away. “it’s not me, jungkook. i d-don’t know how they- they did it. i know it looks so real but it’s not me. i swear-”
and as an act of desperation, after months of having given up on proving it’s all some sort of well-orchestrated deception, your hands come up to the buttons of your blouse.
“it’s not my body.”
“no no no- you don’t have to do this! this isn’t right!” jungkook freaks out and binds your wrists with his hands, unwillingly using his strength on you when you fight back. he anxiously glances at the camera monitoring the hallway. “stop, stop-”
“i just need one person to believe me.”
“i believe you, okay?” he captures your wrists in one hand, the other tenderly caresses your cheek. “i believe you. i promise.”
he cradles your head on his shoulder, hugging you so tightly it almost feels like you’re one person.
“when the girl said you might not even know you were being recorded… the terrible thoughts i had- like what if he…” 
it’s too much alone in his head. he can’t bring himself to say it into the universe.
“but you didn’t get hurt, right? nothing like that happened? it’s not even real.” he sniffles, holding you tighter as if that is still possible. “that’s a relief… i mean- this, this is bad, what happened to you is. but i was scared.”
you remain there, dumbstruck and motionless. the line between standing and letting jungkook carry your weight has blurred. 
you wish he would never let you go.
 
jungkook brings you to his apartment, sits you down in the kitchen, and takes out his birthday cake from fridge. he conveniently finds two pairs of chopsticks in a plastic bag on the table and offers you one, which you accept without thinking. you think he understands that you don’t want to talk about it but you can’t be alone right now either. 
chocolate is supposed to help raise one’s spirit, doesn’t it?
well, it tastes delicious, and jungkook is with you. you feel a little less shitty. 
he can’t sit still, though. 
he cracks open the eggs he bought this morning into a bowl and starts chopping up vegetables to be mixed into it. all the while you sit and watch in silence. no, in peace. the rhythmic tapping of the knife against the chopping board is like music to your ears. even the sound of the oil crackling as he pours the beaten eggs into the frying pan. 
you abandon the endorphin-inducing treat on the table. you saunter over to jungkook in search of something else more associated with love, sneaking your arms around his torso. a tidal wave of relief washes over you. this feels more like resting, and you can’t believe you’re saying this, better than drugs. as it turns out, you’ve been homesick for a body you haven’t touched. a hug can’t fix your life, but it may convince you that it’s possible to survive an unfixable life. 
however, the key difference between jungkook and nicotine is that you can’t simply have jungkook because you want to. 
what he has unleashed upon you is greed.
“i’m sorry,” the more you apologize, the easier it becomes, but you’re also growing sick of it. “i didn’t mean what i said. i was scared of your reaction when you find out so i pushed you away… i keep taking you for granted. i’m sorry.” 
“it’s okay, i understand.” he rubs your forearm comfortingly. “just don’t do it again… it really hurt.” 
“i like you too.” you confess like you’re running out of time. 
you no longer have room for apprehension. you can’t gamble with your chances once more when there’s not much left. 
“i wasn’t playing with your feelings. up until earlier, i thought i’d never be able to let you know, so i’m doing it now. i like you.”
a chill runs along your spine. it feels immensely intimate— how jungkook slowly takes a hold of your hand and guides it to his soft lips, pressing a long kiss to your skin. 
“i like you too, a lot.” his laughter makes his body vibrate, waking up the slumbering butterflies in your stomach. “incase i haven’t made it obvious enough.”
“will you stay?”
you nod your head as you joyfully munch on your fresh homemade meal. “they’re already forcing me to use my vacation days anyway.”
he makes a noise of surprise. “you’ve never missed work?”
you shake your head no.
“rude clients aside, i like what i do. it helps me keep my mind off…” you wave the radish-bearing chopsticks. “things.” 
he only nods, ruffling your hair affectionately. “you should eat well, okay?”
“you too!” 
you feed him a big bite of your omelette, and then rice, and then kimchi. 
it results in stuffed cheeks and aggressive chewing, but you look especially happy watching him eat. jungkook assumes that it’s just how you express your affection, and it’s euphoria to be at the receiving end. 
you found your way back to where you were last night— jungkook’s warm bed. comfy pajamas and tangled limbs. everything went to shit after you left, so if you were to get stuck here forever, he wouldn’t disapprove. 
he listens to you talk as half of his mind is preoccupied by innocently kissing every inch of the exposed skin of your face and neck.
“i’m going to the salon tomorrow.”
he inwardly groans against your neck when your fingers card through his silky yet messy hair, twisting and tugging.
“what color should i color my hair? red? orange? brown?”
“red sounds really great?” he draws back in excitement. “but i’m going to miss your pink hair. how did you maintain it for so long?”
“i only chose it because it doesn’t look good on me.” 
“that’s ridiculous!” he exclaims.
you snort. “i thought if it doesn’t fit me then it would seriously change the way i look.” 
“then you were very wrong. it fits you so well.” he passionately insists that you see yourself from his point-of-view.
“you’re ridiculous.”
you don’t believe him, but he still earns himself a kiss on the lips. 
“have you ever thought of getting a lip piercing?”
“why?” he fails to hide his smug grin. “would it look good on me?”
“mhmm, i imagine so.”
you lazily trace his lips with your thumb. it’s suddenly making him dizzy. 
“should i get it then?”
“nope,” you reply with finality. “too many girls would fantasize about kissing you.” 
he bursts out laughing. “isn’t that too much of a stretch?” 
“i’m a girl! i’d know!” 
“so you’re the jealous type, huh?” he cockily quirks an eyebrow.
“i’m not,” you scoff.
“possessive?” 
“maybe,” you shrug.
“cool,” he chuckles. “you want to keep kissing?”
you don’t answer and instead you meet his lips halfway with a tug at the collar of his shirt. you’re an amazing kisser; his brain goes haywire once you tilt your head and you kiss him deeper, tongue sneaking in for a taste. he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else again. 
as the tension escalates into something hotter, your wandering hand manages to slip under his shirt, teasing and caressing his skin. fuck, he feels like he’s running a fever. however, when your fingers begin tracing and teasing the waistband of his calvin klein boxers, much as it feels heavenly and stirs something feral deep within him, he has to pull away. 
not too fast. 
he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. he’s afraid you’re not thinking straight.
“are you free this weekend?” he asks as he catches his breath, tongue swiping over his swollen lips. 
“saturday night,” you reply with a drunk smile. 
“since you granted my birthday wish, shall we make your ferris wheel dream come true?” 
your smile fades away a little. “where you work?” 
he nods, but he senses your hesitation. “but we can go to a different one, if you’d like.”
as your silence stretches, he also begins to regret having asked you in the first place. after what happened only hours ago, you must not want to go out in public and risk reliving that experience. 
“…doesn’t it bother you that your friends may have seen the video already?” 
at that moment, taehyung’s voice rings in his ears.
‘honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?’
his heart breaks upon the sight of genuine fear swimming in your eyes. he dips his head to press a kiss on your forehead, and he hugs you tight. and tighter. he doesn’t pray much, or ask big questions, but he despises it when bad things happen to good people. he wants to protect you, but how?
“i’d tell them the truth. i’d fight for your case.”
“but what if they don’t believe you…?”
a deafening crash resonates in the break room as taehyung’s body slams against the lockers before collapsing on the floor. 
“ah, seriously! i said it’s not her!”
“what the fuck, dude?!” taehyung yelps as he sits up, putting a hand over his assaulted cheek. he’s more offended than hurt if he’s being honest.
as it turns out, it does bother jungkook.
taehyung’s phone landed a few feet away from him. the video is still going, and unlike the people in the elevator, he didn’t have the courtesy to keep it muted. obscene moans and sounds of skin slapping repeatedly play from the speakers at a low volume. 
“it’s so clear, look! how can it not be her?!” 
“it’s edited! it’s ai, you fucking idiot!” jungkook scowls at him. 
he picks up the phone, teeth gritted in anger as he exits the video and discovers that it’s posted at an adult website. the view count has reached five digits and the comment section is flooded. he knows this isn’t the only place it’s posted. hell, other people could have it downloaded. although it’s not your body, it’s still you being violated and lusted after. he feels sick to his stomach. 
“you should’ve said that from the start!” 
he looks away for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut, hard, hoping that would erase the explicit images and thumbnails from his memory. after gathering himself together, his eyes zero in on the report button. 
he clicks ‘submit’ before he crumbles, weakly sitting down on the chair. 
taehyung rushes to his phone that was tossed carelessly on the table. “ah shit- the screen is cracked!” 
if this is how he feels, then he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. 
he stares at the floor, eyes unfocused. the world goes on and his back remains hunched over as he struggles to make sense of what he should do. 
 
when you were called over to the human resource department, you didn’t exactly prepare yourself to watch your alleged sex scandal on a 21.5-inch computer monitor. the light from the screen reflects on your skin. you have to harshly claw at the skin of your knee to stop it from anxiously bouncing; you force yourself not to also gag when the you on the screen chokes and gags. 
“was this reported to you,” you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting your stare to the man in suit and tie. “or did you find it on your own?” 
“miss ____,” he leans in on the table, clasping his hands together. the golden band around his finger shines under the dim lighting of his office. “do you even understand the kind of trouble you’re in?” 
“am i being fired?”
“but you don’t have to be.” he bares his teeth as if he’s delivering good news. you long to destroy his face and his condescension with your bare hands. “i believe we can agree on an arrangement.”
“what do you mean…?” you ask carefully, grasping the tiny bit of hope that what you have in mind isn’t what he meant. 
“i think you know what i mean. you’re smart.”
your heart drops to your stomach when he side-eyes the screen.
“do you expect me to beg for my job and do the same things i did in the video?” 
“why?” his tone then becomes threatening. you begin to hear your heartbeat thumping loud in your chest. “you won’t do it?” 
but if you allow yourself to be intimidated and treated less than a human being worthy of dignity and respect, then you may never be able to forgive yourself. 
your sharp eyes and your cutting words make up for its trembles.
“you’re right, i’m smart. i know you don’t have enough grounds to fire me. you seriously think you can manipulate me this easy?” you contemptuously push over his name plate, the bronze metal tumbling and clashing with the wooden desk. “you’re not qualified for this job.” 
your dismissal of his authority bruises his ego. he holds you in a hostile glare.
“if i were you, i would stop talking. right now.” 
“or what?” you challenge him. “you’ll hit me…? what would your wife think when she hears about this conversation?” 
his face is contorted with anger and frustration, but he is visibly holding himself back from doing something else that would damage his career. 
“i plan on suing the people who are responsible for this. i’d appreciate it if-” you gesture at the monitor. “you can delete your copy too. i’ll clean my table and leave.” 
“you have a real attitude problem, you know that? you need your eyes opened to the reality of life.” the alarms in your head starts blaring when he slowly gets up from his seat. “i think i know what i need to do to fix it.” 
“don’t you dare touch me.” you grit your teeth, tears welling in your eyes as he circles his desk. “i will kill you.” 
he squats on the floor beside you, wearing a mocking grin. you want to move away, but the chair is too small, and you’re determined to show him that you have no fear. 
“you’ll kill me?” 
he grabs a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back, and a scream is ripped out from your throat. the pain is mind-numbing; if he does it long enough, your guess is that you’d surely faint. he forces your head to the direction of the monitor. 
“who you should be killing is the man who put you in this situation.” 
you close your eyes. you try not to let him get under your skin, but the tears rolling down your cheeks are your self-made traitors. 
you have. in your head. a million times. is it truly a man? is he even alone? 
as you tiredly re-open your eyes, you unleash the pepper spray you’ve been holding under your thigh and begin spraying it all over his face. when he collapses on the floor, screaming and clawing at his own skin, your hand also falls limp over the armrest. you take a deep breath, blinking at the mess you made with heavy eyelids. 
does it hurt that much or is he simply dramatic?
you’d stay and enjoy his demise, but you decide he’s not worth your time. 
“____, come back here!” 
“oh-” you freeze on your tracks. 
you pull the lace of your company id over your head, hurling it at his face. he rolls over with an agonized groan. 
“i quit!” 
you unlock the door, dry your tears, and walk out of his office with your chin held high.
you stand at jungkook’s door, staring down at your shoes. you’ve been contemplating on whether you should knock or not. you want nothing more but to crawl into his arms, but a part of you is holding back. is it right to drag him into your world? you’d hate it if he becomes infected by your sadness. it broke you to pieces when he cried because he thought you were hurt. what would his reaction be if finds out what happened tonight? 
“____!”
jungkook approaches with a plastic bag from a 24/7 restaurant nearby. judging by his tousled hair, he must’ve just woken up from a long nap. and you think to yourself—he’s so handsome—as he walks over to you and you scramble to collect yourself. 
“have you been waiting long? sorry, i had to buy dinner.”  
“i just got here.” you deny. 
“is that so?” he stops infront of you, eyeing your outfit. “is everything alright? you’re home from work so early.”
“i went home.” you force a smile. “i’m not feeling so well.”
it takes everything in you not to cry when he starts stroking your hair with the gentlest hand. 
“what’s wrong…?” he frowns. he worriedly presses the back of his hand on your forehead, then your neck. “you are a bit hot.”
“i think i just need some more sleep.” you dismiss the topic quickly, throwing your arms around his neck for the hug you’ve been yearning for since you walked out of that office. 
his free arm wraps around waist, pulling you taut against him. he doesn’t ask you anything. like you, he closes his eyes, and he nuzzles his cheek against you, not taking any second for granted. 
  —
  you spend the remaining days before saturday locked up in your apartment, withholding the fact that you quit your job from jungkook. with work gone and social media apps wiped out from your phone, there’s not much to do. just like always, you feed the fishes and converse throughout the day over the phone. they eat less and less as the weather gets colder. you bring up the growing size of the fishes and he agrees that they should be moved into a bigger tank soon. he sends you photos of him bored in class and you send him photos of you in bed. every second that passes by, you feel guilty for holding on to him until the very end. 
you greet him with a radiant smile, opening the door just enough for him to see your face. you can tell that he styled his hair, sprayed on more perfume than usual. he looks absolutely dashing. it almost makes you mad. 
“are you ready?” 
you can feel the crushing weight of everything that hides behind the door. your clothes, your shoes, your self-care, your stacks of medical textbooks… your entire life packed in boxes and bags. 
jungkook was right. out of everyone he liked, you must be the most cruel. 
he doesn’t take you to his workplace, and instead brings you to their largest competitor. the amusement park is swarmed by locals and tourists alike, waiting for the firework show to commence. you hide your face with a thick scarf wrapped around your neck. you’ve been waiting, freezing, in line for over an hour, but you don’t mind it at all. it only means more time spent with jungkook. 
you take turns in biting on the pretzel he bought to get rid of your boredom, happy and content in your shared bubble among the hundreds of voices within the vicinity conversing all at once. you become the other half of those lovey-dovey couples people cringe at in public. every now and then you and jungkook mimic a stranger’s voice, or the instrumental music from the nearby rides, and you laugh until your tummies ache. he hugs you to warm you up and you reward him with a kiss on the cheek. 
“your hair looks even prettier in person.” jungkook compliments you with stars in his eyes. 
“thank you! it turned out better than i expected. i’m really happy about it.” you gush, confidence renewed. you eat the last piece of the pretzel happily. “red or pink?”
“okay, red does suit you better,” he admits. “but i still think you were also beautiful in pink.” 
“since you’re always saying that, i’m starting to believe it.” 
“you should, because it’s true.”
“have i ever told you that you’re handsome?”
he shakes his head with a half-amused, half-sheepish smile. 
“well, you’re very handsome,” you declare playfully, but you believe it a hundred percent. 
“thank you,” he bursts into a fit of giggles, and it delivers you a special kind of joy— making him happy.
“lemonade?” he offers you the drink he’s holding. 
you slot the straw between your lips, taking a few sips. your eyes widen in surprise, also delight. “it’s hot?” 
“it’s good, right? i feel so warm.” 
he sips on the drink himself. at the same moment, the line begins to move. 
“oh! it’s our turn!”
he grabs a secure hold of your hand, not allowing a slither of chance of you slipping away from him. you give out your tickets, and the remains of them returned, one of them jungkook takes and the other, you slide into the pocket of your shoulder bag.
“oh, it’s too high-”
your nervous pondering is interrupted by a yelp, thanks to jungkook effortlessly lifting you into the moving cabin with his hands on your hips. with a boyish grin, he jumps in after you. 
he curiously watches you set up your phone on the parallel side of your shared seat, you and him filmed by the front camera and displayed on the screen. he chooses not to say anything, but he is pleasantly surprised that you are the first one who initiated on recording this memory. 
once you fix it into the perfect angle, you return and sit beside him with a hint of satisfaction painted on your expression. but as soon as the the cabin quakes mildly, it morphs into nervousness. 
“it’s okay, it’s normal.” he strokes the back of your head, reassuring you. “are you afraid of heights?”
you scoot closer to him, and he forgets how to breathe for a moment when you innocently lay your hand just above his knee. “i try not to be.” 
“i was going to suggest the rollercoaster next, but maybe not.”
once again, the cabin moves, causing a whimper to emit from your throat. your nails begin to dig into his thigh, their sharpness dulled by his denim pants. 
“anything but that- i have bad memories with the rollercoaster.”
“maybe i should sit on the other side to balance ourselves bett-”
“stay!” you quickly pull him back down, resulting to another shake. “in my dream, we sit next to each other.”
“oh,” his lips shape into a smirk. “anything else i should know about?”
“you had your arm around me.” you bat your eyelashes.
he does as you request, hugging you to his side.
“like this?”
you shake your head with a sound of disagreement, moving his hand from your arm down to the curve of your waist. 
“you suddenly remember everything.” he remarks with a teasing squeeze of your flesh. 
you sheepishly smile, shrugging. “eh, i remember this much.” 
he loves moments like this— when your innocence rises to the surface and allows him a glimpse of your purest parts. they completely contradict everything your brain leads you to think is for your protection. you don’t want to be alone, and you do want to be held.
amidst his bittersweet musing, the night sky begins to be lit up by a sequence of launched explosives, shooting off glowing embers that descend slowly through the air. 
he jolts on his seat and clings to you as a result.
“ah, that scared me!” he whines in annoyance.
you spare his scaredy-cat moment a short giggle. you barely pay him any mind; you didn’t even look at him. jungkook decides to watch the fireworks from your wonder-filled eyes. the colors soar across your irises— he can’t really differentiate the silver and the gold; there’s also blue and green; a lot of red. 
his view from here is one-of-a-kind. he temporarily mistakes you for a painting. brings out his phone. snaps photos of you like one instinctively does in an art gallery. 
the mortification only sets in when your eyes meet the camera and upon realizing, you give him your dazzling smile. 
“you should watch the fireworks too.” you scold him lightheartedly, redirecting his hands outside. “they’re amazing.”
and he obeys you. 
for a short while.
you catch him longingly gazing at you sooner the second time around. he likes that he doesn’t need to look away anymore because his feelings are already out in the open, and most importantly, reciprocated. he catches your eyes flicker to his lips. he swears this is the most romantic scene of his life. will anything ever come close? you cup his cheek in your delicate hand, bringing your plush lips to his. he wonders how many times you also hesitated to kiss him before. how long would it take before he has kissed you more times than he didn’t?
 
jungkook is glued to his phone, walking at a slower pace behind while you search the spacious parking lot for your motorbike. 
the wicked reality he stole you from momentarily waves at him as a reminder that ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. a notification from a fan that says they found a clip of your video on another social media platform and reported it there too. a notification containing the link. he clicks on the app and finds that his latest video has reached almost half a million views. 
technology has gone too far. how is there no law for this yet??? someone's life is ruined 
what is this. you've totally ruined the video for me
jungkook!! when are you going live again?
everyone stop spreading the video around!!!!!!!!!! report it if you see it!!!!
but how come you suddenly made a ten min vid talking against ai so passionately? do you know this girl personally?? haha
lol? he already talked about ai in a live before. his follower would know that he knows a lot about editing and technology too. hes using his knowledge for good. stop assuming
it was obvious from the start ㅠㅠ the expressions look a bit unnatural. this is unsettling.... i feel so bad for her
um .. am i the only one who doesn't know about this
you're better off not knowing 😭
it's gone viral recently
how? it's all over my feed
his temples throb with a threat of an incoming headache. he can only hope and pray that he didn’t do more harm than good… and by some miracle you don’t find out about this, at least not before he is prepared to see you mad at him again. sharply inhaling, he swipes out of the comment section and tucks his phone back into his small crossbody bag. 
“wait for me!”
he jogs to catch up to you, hurling himself to your back. you are both nearly knocked over if not for him throwing his strong arms around you. 
“you’re so hyper. are you a puppy?” you groan. “go put your helmet on.” 
“this hurts my pride. i said i’m not wearing it again!” 
he is, once again, left with no choice when you forcefully shove your only helmet over his head. 
“calm down, nothing bad will happen anyway.” 
“this feels so wrong.” he continues complaining. “everyone i know owns an extra, just so you know.” 
“well, i never planned on riding with a passenger.” you pull down the visor, sealing the deal. “hold on tight, okay?”
how often do you see a man on the road sitting at the back of an expensive motorbike that his cool girlfriend drives? jungkook wishes someone could take a photo and send it to him as a memento because being that man is pretty darn fun. except for the part that you’re not wearing a helmet and he’s also freaking out in the back of his mind, especially when the vehicle tilts even at the slightest. 
but yeah, fun. 
until the rain starts to come down and he ends up numb from the freezing cold. 
your driving speed decreases. you move farther into the center of the lane to avoid the slippery paint on asphalt. 
“jungkook, remove my glasses.” you instruct him urgently. 
“okay!” his arm freezes in the air. “wait, where do i put it?”
“fuck, anywhere. over my head!”
 —
owing it to your driving experience and extreme carefulness of your passenger, you park at your designated parking space safely. by the time you do so, the rain has become a downpour.
“run!” you shout as you both begin to brave it. 
for the record, jungkook tried. 
his shoe slides against the wet and slippery ground and a startled scream leaves his mouth as it all happens too fast. he lands on his butt, but loses balance again and ends up completely lying down in the middle of the parking lot. 
“jungkook!” 
alongside the fierce raindrops, your frantic footsteps bringing you to jungkook contest in creating loud splashes. you get down on your knees, forcibly shaking his frame with yet another call of his name.
“are you okay? where are you hurt?!” 
garnering no response, you resort to giving his face weak slaps. 
“stand up. this isn’t funny.” 
his ears catch you blowing out a sigh, layered underneath is the most adorable growl he has ever heard— reminds him of a tiger cub. there is the lightest trace of smile on his lips as you carry his head over to your lap with utmost gentleness. 
“jungkook!” 
you wipe his rain-soaked face with your rain-soaked hands as if it would do something. he dies of laughter inside. 
“are you being serious right now?!” 
he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the other, greeting you with the most gleeful giggle. he’s so stupidly happy it’s almost painful. chest-restricting. doesn’t help much when you hit his chest, rightfully so, and he laughs harder. 
“ugh, you’re so annoying!” 
his upper body tumbles over again to the wet ground when you return to your feet. the view from here is not that bad. he is losing half his mind from the cold and his eyes are blurry from the rain. it presents itself as the perfect opportunity to say something cheesy about going to heaven, but would an angel nudge him with their foot and say “stand up. we’re totally going to get sick now, you jerk!” before running away? 
in jungkook’s defense, he checked the weather forecast this morning. it’s painfully clear to him now that they lied. the two of you are dripping all over the floor mat in front of the building’s entrance doors. there is no other choice but to wring your clothes here to minimize the trail of mess you will leave behind when you go up to your units. 
you’re squeezing out the water from your hair. he is left with a white t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he does the same with his sweater.
the earthy and distinct smell of the rain clings to the air, and therefore, everything.
“jungkook,”
“yes?” he cranes his head to your direction and your eyes connect.
“don’t get sick.” 
“i won’t! i’m healthy. i only get sick once a year.” he boasts with a grin. 
given the length difference, jungkook’s method is messier than yours— he shakes the water out of his hair like a puppy. 
“okay, rude-” you chide at him, flinching away from the shower. 
“oh i’m sorry!” 
didn’t think about that, he winces. 
“aquarium after showering?”
“worms make me queasy.” you make a noise of disgust as you dispose of your plastic gloves. 
“but clem loves them.”
“true,” you return beside jungkook, who is watching your five beloved swimmers with pure fascination. “but not as much as coral does.” 
“sometimes i wonder if they’re getting tired of seeing our faces everyday.” 
“i hope not,” you frown.
after all, they’ve taken over a considerable chunk of your daily life for the past half year. you worried more about their meals than your own. you hated it when clementine and dahlia would get scared and hide from you at the beginning. you worked hard to gain their trust. how long will it take for them to forget you? contrary to the three-second memory span myth, you read that they can keep memories for weeks, some claim months, at least five, or even years. 
“yeah, probably not because they associate us with food.” he chuckles.
“that’s true.” 
he straightens up and drops himself on the couch. while you’re alone, you take your time to prepare your heart. 
you try your hardest to look at every little detail of each fish, anything you haven’t seen before. you always loved the way their tail and fins glide and flow as they swim, reminiscent of long hair blowing with the wind. when they play about the shipwreck, it feels you’re being healed. something broken can still be a source of joy.
“i had a wonderful time, by the way.” you turn to jungkook, making your way to where he is. “thank you for tonight.”
“me too. i was so happy.” 
he squeezes you to his side, dipping to press a kiss to your temple. you never understood people who preferred forehead kisses until you met jungkook. a kiss on the lips meant being wanted, and maybe that was everything to you.
“but i’m buying the extra helmet myself tomorrow.”
“you don’t have to do that!”
while he laughs, you force a smile. 
there’s no point. there will be no next time.
“no but thank you for everything, really… my life has been a living nightmare but- but i felt like a person again when i was with you.” 
you take a pause, willing yourself not to cry. you need to tell him everything you haven’t said so you can live with less regrets. 
“you’re such a kind person. i’m sorry that i always lashed out on you too. just because i was hurting doesn’t make it right to hurt you.” 
“why are you talking like that?” he questions you suspiciously. he masks his nervousness with a tone of humor. “it sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”
because you are…
you’ve never been good at goodbyes. the original plan was to leave in the middle of the night without letting him know, leaving a note was an option. either way you know that you will hurt him, and as an admitted coward, you didn’t want to witness that.
but in the future, when you reminisce about him, you don’t want to be overcome with guilt. and when he reminisces about you, you don’t want memories of you to be tainted with bitter resentment. you hope that when either one of you sheds tears, the pain of loss eventually becomes gratitude for what you had momentarily. 
and so, you take a deep breath.
“i need to tell you something.”
he stares back into your eyes without saying anything. in the duration of that silence, jungkook is able to interpret and predict where your shared story is heading. 
“you’re leaving…”
the end.
you never considered that hearing him say it would hurt much more than telling him yourself.
“when?”
“my flight is in six hours. i’m so sorry.” 
you nearly break down into the tears, but you harshly chew on your bottom lip. you can’t cry, not in front of him. you don’t have the right.
“my parents, they finally forgave me… i can continue studying with their help. but no one wants to accept me here anymore, i tried, everywhere… so i’m going back with them to milan.”
“where they work…” he says meekly. he remembers you mentioning it in passing.
“can’t you postpone?” he tries to spark up even a smallest crumb of hope. he places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly. “even just for a day?”
you shake your head, unable to look him in the eyes, but you flip your hand over so you can hold his. and you do. tightly. and when it doesn’t feel enough, you use both hands and you clasp him in between. 
the silence in between is suffocating.
“when will you come back?”
“i don’t know.”
“i can wait-”
“no, you can’t.” you interrupt, looking at him decisively. “you shouldn’t.” 
with hardened features, he challenges your stare. you’re not scared or intimidated. he’s not angry. he’s just… 
“that’s not for you to decide.”
fighting for you.
you’d be a hypocrite if you said that you wished he wouldn’t. 
“jungkook, please, don’t.”
you throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so he won’t be able to see your face and decipher your thoughts. deep inside, with logic thrown outside the window, where all you can see and feel and touch is him, you wish that he would beg and convince you to stay. 
“you’d only waste your time doing that. you’ll meet someone else…” 
those words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. possessive, he jokingly described you once. 
“don’t say that.” he interjects. 
“you deserve to be happy, jungkook. there is so much more to life.”
“i knew- i-i had a feeling you would leave soon. i just didn’t know when.”
a tear drips from your eyelash; you hug him tighter and wipe it off on his shoulder. 
“i wish i could’ve done more.” he utters regretfully. “to help you. and comfort you. you endured everything on your own…”
“you believed me and you stayed with me. you did more than everybody else.” 
taking away the science of it, it’s common knowledge that a hug has wondrous healing effects. it’s one of those things that we naturally learn through experience, feeling. the hormone and neurotransmitter oxytocin can affect how we feel and respond to pain. studies say that it kicks in for hugs that last at least six to twenty seconds. 
“will you be okay there?” he whispers. he’s gently stroking the expanse of your back and it feels like getting tucked into bed.
by now, you’ve been hugging jungkook for over twenty seconds, and you realize that the time is irrelevant. perhaps what they are referring to are the hugs you wouldn’t mind staying in forever. 
“i’m scared,” you confess. “but i’ll be okay.”
a glimpse at the aquarium and enters a silly, gutwrenching thought. 
“you know… maybe in another life,” you peek fondly into a future that may very well never exist. “we’re old and married, and we have a big pond instead of an aquarium.”
jungkook draws back and stares you down with his tearful eyes. 
you clear your throat, face going warm with regret. “sorry-”
“you’re impossible-” he mutters before leaning in to kiss you. 
you’re frozen at first, mind going blank, until he’s kissing you deeper, gripping your waist tighter, with intense emotions you’ve never felt him express before, and you are forced to remember that this kiss is a goodbye. 
your hands around his neck fall over his shoulders, and you grant him the power to let you fall into the abyss where nothing else exists but the two of you. 
you stop worrying about the time ticking. 
you do not think about pulling away. 
he is the one who breaks the kiss and your heart is broken. 
his gaze is heaving with longing as does his aching chest. “why can’t it be in this life?”
you think this is when the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on you. jungkook is once in a lifetime. he is the person you will dedicate a memoir to when you reach the point in life where the only thing left to do is to look back. revealing the closet full of skeletons of who you were and who you will never become. he will be the subject of your what if’s, the other main character of the alternate version of your life story. the cynics will clamor, your time together was too short for it to have meant something, ignorant of the most lamentable grief— and you will envy them for it.
the corners of your mouth are lifted into a wistful smile. “fate made us meet at the wrong time, when i’m the wrong person for us.”
  —
when you arrive at your apartment, you are deprived of the privacy to break down. your brother and your family driver, mister lee, have only begun hauling your bags and boxes. you try to ignore their presence, head straight to the bathroom, but as always, your brother doesn’t allow you peace. 
“are you seriously bringing your motorbike too?”
you take a deep breath to compose yourself, but you still end up gritting your teeth. “it’s mine.”
“it’s too expensive to have it shipped-”
“shut up, you’re not the one paying for it.” 
you turn on your heel, but you become rooted into place when you hear jungkook’s name. 
“that boy you were with- jungkook, is it?”
you face with him a look of suspicion, eyebrows furrowing. “why do you care?”
he casually leans against the kitchen cabinet, hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets. “he must genuinely like you a lot to make that video. the tide has turned because of him.”
“wh-what are you saying?” you sputter. “what video?”
he narrows his eyes at you. “you don’t know what i’m talking about?”
“are you fucking with me again?” 
“yeah- okay, nevermind.” he dismisses the topic, straightening up to pick up one of the boxes that will be carried to his car. 
“moon!” you irritatedly shout his name, throwing the first thing that your hand touches. the comb hits his back before falling on the floor with a smack. “what is it?!” 
“god, ___! it’s nothing! forget about it!” he barks, going straight for the front door with two boxes stacked in his arms. “go and make sure you didn’t forget to pack anything. i don’t need you nagging me when a package gets lost on its way to milan.” 
you’re obviously having a hard time. can’t he go a little gentler on you? 
“and cover your face.”
“does it matter? i’m already leav-”
“dad asked for it— not me. just do it, ____.”
you weakly slump back against the wall. you have no fight left in you today. you’d like to commend yourself for making it this far, surviving the worst of the worst and having the courage to come out of the tunnel, but you fail to make the distinction between being strong and becoming jaded. 
“ma’am-” mister lee offers you a handkerchief. “i found it in one of the drawers. did you mean to leave it behind?” 
you shake your head, and with a cold, shaky hand, you take it from his open palm. 
once the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, there is no more stopping them. 
as a sign of respect to you, he also leaves the room. 
you choke back a sob, clutching to your chest— the handkerchief you were never sure if you were given or you stole. 
jungkook’s tears glimmer from the lighter’s dancing flame. after several clicks, he manages to light up the cigarette. he isn’t innocent–after all he’s already an adult—but it’s a habit he makes an effort to avoid. surely, he can give himself a pass today, though. he’s heartbroken, and he feels pathetic enough hanging out in the alleyway you frequented. 
he blankly stares at the lighter you believe you lost due to your carelessness. thinking back to your words from earlier, he’s furious at how calm you appeared. it was an easy decision— leaving him behind.
the rain has stopped, but raindrops collected by the roof still trickle to the ground and clang against metal pipes.  
with trembling lips, he exhales the smoke— a sob threatens to be ripped from his throat and he roughly covers his mouth to stop it. 
what could possibly be the lesson he’s supposed to learn from this pain? 
he didn’t know where else to go. at his apartment, he’d feel you leave. at the lobby, he’d see you leave. he’d go far, but he doesn’t want to be too far. until the very end, he is at your disposal. 
you could’ve been the one. no, he desperately wanted you to be the one. if you had stayed, he would’ve loved you as often as he breathed— but your paths intertwined only to be unraveled. 
some sadistic tool, fate is. what was the point of finding you again? 
a passerby’s fleeting shadow blocks all sources of light casted over jungkook’s secret place.
you wear your only carry-on, a duffle bag, around your body. 
you cross the street with unhurried steps. 
as you climb into your getaway car, jungkook flicks off the ash from the cigarette held between his fore and middle fingers. 
the tires roll over the wet asphalt, leaving behind a hissing echo. your brother’s car follows suit.
thirty-five, thirty-six… jungkook anxiously counts the vehicles he hears driving away.
was one of them you? 
…are you gone?
352 notes · View notes
tojis-favorite · 1 year
Text
Speechless
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Your and Toji’s relationship was not a perfect one. You two were on and off, always arguing about the pettist things, so you took it upon yourself to suggest a break. There was no way you guys were going to break out of this cycle without some type apart to breathe.
Toji hated this; he was always checking up on you, sending you money out of nowhere. It didn't help that his friends were your biggest ops (not really lol). Let you even stand near another guy and it's being reported back to him within the hour.
That is exactly what was the case tonight. Your friend had done some serious convincing for you to go to this kickback that one of her friends was throwing. Deciding why not you got dressed, drank a little liquor and were now walking into the crowded house.
“Bitch this is not a kickback everyone and their mama is here.” You huffed out irritated already knowing one of Toji’s friends might be in the building. “You need to live who gives a fuck if there here.” She said dragging you deeper into the crowds of people.
Unknown to you, someone had already spotted you being one of tojis friend’s Geto (a/n omg imagine.) “Gojo do you see what I see?” Turning his head he sees you and your friend being approached by two guys getting ready to hit on you. Already having his phone out Gojo goes to his camera, snapping a picture of you smiling as the guy puts his hand on your lower back.
Sending it to Toji with the address attached he shows Geto his phone and they both laugh and continue to enjoy the party.
It has been well over forty minutes since you got to the party and you did not regret coming; you were meeting new people and you were having fun doing so. But you were hot and you knew you probably looked a mess due to the constant drinks you have been given to by your best friend.
“I need to go to the bathroom!” You exclaimed to your friend in the loud room and she gave you a thumbs up before walking behind you to look for the bathroom. “I can take her.” A deep voice chimed in and you side-eye your best friend to make sure she heard the same thing.
“Girl say the word and we’ll jump him right now.’’ She said seriously in her drunken state, shaking her head and saying “No it’s fine, i’ll be back.” You walk toward the staries to the bathroom. “Geto you guys make sure her friend is okay until we get back, make sure she drinks some water.” Toji told his two friends before making his way behind you.
Entering the bathroom first Toji follows behind you and closes the door locking it. Crossing his arms together the first thing he says is “This is what we're doing now?” Confused, you reply “What?” Toji tilts his head “What? Were we just letting random strangers in our face?” He said, mocking your voice.
“Toji don’t start this, I'm single-” “No you're not” his strong voice cuts in “You never have been and you never will be, no other person is going to take care of you the way I do and no other person can make you feel the way I do.”
Walking toward you he lifts you up on the bathroom sink and stands in between your legs. “When are you going to stop playing and come back to me?” You didn't know if it was the liquor in your system or if it was the way he said it (a/n it was both lmao) but you were feeling some type of way.
You did miss him and the in between of your legs were tingling… he must have known because he reached under your dress/skirt and put his fingers inside of you. “Your not wear any panties ethier I should fucking kill you.” He whispered in your ear as you leaned back into the mirror, mouth open as silent moans came out of your mouth.
Bending down Toji got on his knees as he circled his lips around your clit with his tongue and fingers going at the same pace. “Fuck Toji keep going please.” You begged pushing your hips deeper into his face causing him to groan with a mouth full of your pussy.
Going faster he shakes his head side to side as you felt his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. Grabbing his head you move your hips to feel your release approaching as your whole body starts to shake.
Put in a split second you feel nothing. The knot in your stomach is no longer there. Toji fingers were no longer inside of you and his mouth was no longer giving you pleasure.
“Come on Ms. Single lady I need to get you and your bestie home.” Toji smirks as he pulls you off of the counter and pushes you toward the door
Leaving you unfinished and speechless.
Sorry for being gone for so long a lot was happening in my personal life. I do have a surprise for next month so stay tuned!
I low key wanna start writing for Connie from aot should I?
Part 2???
1K notes · View notes
lucvly · 10 months
Note
can you do hcs of being chris’ gf and also matt’s and nick’s bff
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— being chris’ girlfriend + matt and nick’s best friend. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: fluff, cursing, suggestive, not proofread.
a/n: i love this omg?? keep feeding into my delusions please and thank you.
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— most times, you help them film their videos. you’re not really in them but they all love it when you’re their camera girl.
— when you’re at their house, you have to hang out in chris’ room, otherwise nick and matt are constantly talking to you.
— sometimes you’ll be in the pool with nick and forget your phone around the house, then when chris comes home looking for you, he just finds you out with nick. (“jesus, i thought you got kidnapped or something.” “by your brother, yeah.”)
— movie nights with chris start off normally, just you two cuddling on his bed and watching a random movie you picked out, but somehow nick and matt end up crashing it. chris gets so pissed because they’re interrupting your date but you have to reassure him that it’s fine.
— you’re always in their photo dumps LMFAOO. most of the time, their comments are filled with “spot y/n challenge go.”
— you and chris can’t have a proper date in his house because nick and matt always crash it. so you end up having to hang out at your place or coming up with outside date ideas (museums, picnics, etc.)
— one time you and chris were making out in his room, you were straddling his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hands were on your waist— then suddenly, a loud scream from the door. shit. matt.
— “the door wasn’t even open.” “well it definitely wasn’t shut either, kid.” “shut the fuck up matt.” “dumbass.” “what did you say?”
— sometimes you and chris peacefully fall asleep on call, then you wake up at 3 am because matt stole his phone. he ends up begging you to go to the gas station and get slushies. you do.
— you three have a groupchat LMFAOO chris hates it because matt, nick and you always gang up on him.
— whenever they get in arguments with each other, it’s possibly the worst day of your life. all three of them tell you their side of the argument. (of course you side with your boyfriend, but you appreciate their trust in you LMFAOO.)
— you’ll get calls at midnight from matt asking you to get rid of chris because he’s being extremely annoying. followed up by a call from chris telling you to not listen to matt.
— you go with them on tour obviously. you and chris sleep together despite both of you having your own little bed.
— i feel like chris would be the clingiest boyfriend ever gn, especially if you’re best friends with his brothers LMFAOO.
— you’re always hanging around his house without him even knowing it. this one time he was out for whatever reason and when he came back he found you and matt in the backyard playing pokemon go. safe to say he was confused.
— on a certain occasion, you and chris were baking cookies. after you took them out of the oven, you left them out on the counter to cool down— big mistake. when you came back five minutes later, the cookies were long gone. chris was pissed.
— whenever chris wants to plan some grand gesture or big date, his brothers help him 110%. on one of your anniversaries he filled your room up with balloons and chocolates. like, on an insane level. after the whole celebration you had to call and thank nick and matt for the help.
— despite them denying it, matt and nick think your relationship is so cute. they’re your #1 fans honestly.
— ^ which means they take pictures of you all day every day. chris sends you random ass pictures of you two it’s so funny. (“look at the pic matt took of us lol” “when did he even take that hello????” “idk but we look so cute”)
— chris is head over heels for you and he loves that you have such a good relationship with his brothers. it makes everything a lot easier since you can tag along to trips, tour, and just be with him a lot more.
— whenever chris posts you on social media, he posts the cutest couple pictures. however, the comments always include matt and nick with something along the lines of (“PARENTS” “you’re both disgusting” “get a ROOM”)
582 notes · View notes
withleeknow · 9 months
Text
wishful thinking. (02)
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chapter two: in plain sight
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summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.
pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content at the end, could've been edited more but oh well lol word count: 4.9k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › series masterpost › taglist
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Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you
boyfriend - Ariana Grande ft. Social House
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You end up not seeing Minho, nor any of your other friends, at all in the few days leading up to Yeonjun’s party.
True to your words, you were mostly holed up in your place, running on nothing but caffeine and sheer frustration, trying to finish your elective class’ final paper on the differences between the views of Greek philosophers. Time really flies when you wish it would slow down, because you could've used a couple more days to perfect the godforsaken thing.
You’ve been texting Minho though, and honestly, the man is practically a saint. You barely even talked about anything besides your stupid paper and your high maintenance perfectionist professor, and yet, he still listened to you yap away. He even offered to help you with your footnotes and citations, which you didn’t need, but the gesture was nice. If you had turned to Seungmin with your whining, he probably would've muted your notifications after three messages.
Regardless, all complaining aside, you did manage to pull through and finish the paper in the end, letting out a big sigh of relief the very second you clicked on the Send button on yours and your professor’s email thread just five minutes before the deadline.
Before you know it, it's already Saturday and Minho should be here any minute now so you two could go to the party. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to let a little loose tonight.
Even though a college party isn’t exactly your top choice of ways to wind down from stress, the mention of free and unlimited booze sure does sound alluring.
When your phone lights up with a simple i’m here from Minho, you quickly throw on a cardigan over a simple black camisole and denim shorts and check your makeup in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. He texted you a couple hours ago, saying he had some stuff to pick up near your place and asking if you wanted to walk to Yeonjun’s together. You sent him back an enthusiastic yes!!! in a matter of seconds, because lord knows you’d rather not enter the front door of that house unaccompanied. 
You opted for a simple fit tonight, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more decent only to go to the equivalent of a frat party.
“Hey, Min.” Your voice pulls him away from scrolling through his phone, diverting his attention to you instead.
“Hey,” he says, tucking the device into the pocket of his jeans. When he gives you a once-over, you do a little twirl for him, finishing off with an exaggerated kick of your foot at the end. “You look nice.”
“Just ‘nice’? I’m trying to get laid tonight. ‘Nice’ isn’t gonna cut it,” you joke.
He stares at you, a bashful expression befalling his features, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as he smiles in hubris. “You’re trying to get laid by whom?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “You tell me.”
He rolls his eyes affectionately before throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. One of his hands musses up your hair that you spent twenty minutes trying to make look perfect, prompting you to poke him in the side so he would let go of you.
“Hey!” you scowl, smoothing over the strands that he flicked out of place. “I worked hard on that!”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, clearly amused by the temporarily sulky look on your face. “Didn’t want you to look too pretty. Can’t have all of the attention on you. Someone might try to steal you away from me.”
“Did it occur to you that maybe I want some attention tonight? I’ve been a hermit all week, I deserve a little something.”
“Is my attention not enough for you?”
You squint at him for a second. Then, you start walking in the direction of Yeonjun’s house without waiting for him. You hear Minho launch a laugh your way, and the scuffling of his shoes on the concrete pavement as he easily catches up with you in a few strides.
He leans down to whisper directly into your ear, making your cheeks heat up but you’re glad that they’re partially masked by the poorly lit street. “You know you never have to try.”
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The walk to the party takes about fifteen minutes. When you’re rounding the street corner that leads to Yeonjun’s place, you can already hear the booming music coming from the biggest house on the block. Even from a distance, you can see people on the lawn and the two balconies on the second floor. You gotta give it to the guy - he sure knows how to throw a party.
The second you enter the premises, you’re almost taken aback by how crowded it actually is even though you expected this. A typical Yeonjun party.
You tug on Minho’s shirt, beckoning him to bend down so you could talk into his ear over the sounds of bad EDM and people basically having to scream in each other’s faces. “Are Hyunjin and the others here yet?” you ask.
“They got here right before us. I think they’re in-”
“Y/N!” The two of you whip around at the sound of a shrill voice calling out your name. Yeonjun practically shoves his way through the crowd of people when he spots you, bounding up to you and Minho with a bright grin on his face. “Glad you could make it!” he says, paying no mind to the man next to you at all. He eyes you up and down, shamelessly tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn, you look really good tonight.”
You give him a playful eye roll. Nonetheless, you still tell him, “Thanks.”
“You look that good to come to my party?”
You don’t mind at all the fact that Yeonjun is a natural flirt. That’s just a part of his personality, he’s inherently charming like that. It’s harmless and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Everything is all in good fun.
“Would you believe me if I said this is what I’d wear on a midnight convenience store run?”
“Ouch, you wound me.” Yeonjun says, holding a hand over his heart to emphasize his point. “C’mon, you can admit it.”
You open your mouth, a quick comeback about to be thrown his way but Minho chimes in from beside you.
“You should believe her,” he deadpans, stepping closer to you, one of his hands grazing your back. He's even standing straighter, with his chest all puffed out. “She even dresses like that when she takes out the trash.”
You turn to gasp at him before punching him right in the pec. “Hey!” Yeonjun is all but forgotten in a blink of an eye, because you have to defend your honor first.
“What? I’ve seen you do it wearing this exact same outfit.”
“Stop lying. It’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? I distinctly remember you wearing this when you went to take out the trash that night a couple of weeks ago while we were hanging out at your place.”
“Nuh uh. I didn’t take out the trash that night,” you protest, frowning. “I made you throw it out for me on your way-”
Yeonjun interrupts you with a chuckle, glancing between you and Minho as he gives your friend's shoulder an awkward pat. They share a look that you don’t quite understand. “Alright, duly noted. I’m gonna make myself scarce,” he says. “Help yourselves. Booze is in the kitchen!”
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After you’ve finally squeezed your way into the kitchen that’s overflowing with people, you narrow your eyes at Minho. “What was that about?”
“What?” He scans the selection of liquor bottles on the kitchen island before asking you, “Rum and Coke?”
Your favorite.
You nod eagerly, momentarily distracted before you have to circle back to your question.
“What was all that back there with Yeonjun, Mr. Grumpy Cat?”
“What was what?” He pulls out two solo cups from a nearby stack, along with some napkins, and meticulously wipes the plastic cups even though they look pretty clean to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. He shrugs.
“I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were that close.” Minho seems casual as he tells you this, not looking at you as he fetches the necessary liquor and soda from the sea of glass and plastic bottles in front of you.
“We’re not. I’m kinda friends with him because Jess is friends with him.”
“Okay,” he acknowledges, though he doesn’t seem entirely pleased with… you don’t even know what. “I don’t like him. He’s loud.”
“That’s not a reason. Aren’t you friends with him too?”
You watch as he mixes your drinks, a sight you’re familiar with whenever you attend house parties together. He’s always your designated bartender.
One for you, one for him.
One part rum, two and a half parts coke.
“It is a reason. And ‘friends’ is a stretch,” he says, handing you your cup before he tends to his own. His has less liquor in it, because you both know you like yours stronger. “We’re acquaintances at best.”
“You’re loud too.”
“My brand of loud is different.”
“Is it?”
He gives you a look. An offended cat, if you’ve ever seen one.
“Well, Yeonjun’s not bad,” you tell him. You take a sip of the drink, then give him a subsequent thumbs-up. “He can be a bit much for some people, but I don’t really mind it.”
When he’s done, you both try to navigate the battlefield that is Yeonjun’s extremely cramped abode. You try to stay as close to him as possible, meaning away from the loud boys that are either trying to get shitfaced as quickly as possible, or trying to suck faces with any girl they could find as quickly as possible.
“Still. You don’t think the flirting was a bit much?”
Minho pulls you to him by your elbow when some guy - probably a little more than tipsy, judging by the unsteadiness of the legs that carry him - tries to bulldoze his way through the crowd behind you.
“He’s always like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless.”
“If he asks you out, would you say yes?”
You blink at him in surprise, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. “What kind of question is that?”
“It’s just a question,” he says, then repeats himself. “So, if he asks you out, would you say yes?”
You let him guide you to a spot that’s more breathable, where people aren’t practically on top of each other trying to weave their way through. You think about it for a second, then realize that there isn’t much to think about. “No,” you say decisively.
Because it doesn’t make sense to envision you and Yeonjun together. You practically sit on two opposing ends of the same spectrum. People often say that opposites attract, but this isn’t one of those cases.
And… because you simply feel strange thinking about yourself and someone else. Like it's something you shouldn't do.
Minho gives you a hum in acknowledgment of your answer, which you barely catch over the loudness of the party. You do catch the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lip though, before he cranes his neck to scan the room for any trace of your gang of thieves.
“If I didn’t know any better,” you run the words over in your head before you decide to utter them out loud. Like you told him just now, harmless, right? “I’d say you’re jealous of Yeonjun.”
He turns, stares at you for a moment with unreadable eyes. 
“And what if I am?”
There’s something incredulous in the way you look at him. You think he would just wave you off or roll his eyes and move onto a new topic, not expecting him to fire back with a question you can’t really answer.
Or maybe he’s just playing along. You can’t tell.
“Am I that good in bed?” you chuckle, hoping he doesn’t notice the inkling of nervousness in your voice. “Did I do a number on you?”
He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as if in thought. Then, he answers, “Something like that.”
There’s a part of you that wants to dig deeper, to get him to say what he really means because there’s something in his eyes and there’s something in the way that his hand has moved to its designated place on the small of your back that makes your stomach roll with anticipation.
Once again, you don’t like that he keeps getting harder for you to read.
You try to think of words to say, of questions to ask, though you know this party isn’t the best place to voice them. “What d-”
“There you are!” Hyunjin pops up from behind Minho, practically jumping onto his back like a jumpscare ghost in a horror game, startling the both of you and almost making the grumpy cat spill his drink. Minho groans as he tries to shove his friend off, before sending Hyunjin a glare that makes the man bow his head in apology. He promptly drags you to where your friends are gathered on a big couch near the back of the room - Chan and his girlfriend Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, along with a distinct absence of a few more faces.
“Where are the others?” you ask, plopping down next to Changbin, followed suit by Minho.
“Jisung is stuck finishing a project,” Chan informs you. “And Jeongin is taking his girl to that new drive-in movie place.”
“They’re still in their honeymoon phase?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Ah yes, young love. Good for them.”
You catch up with everyone about your week, about their week; gossip about how much Yeonjun might’ve spent on this party and where his family’s downright insane wealth actually comes from, about Seungmin’s on-and-off situationship (which might be more interesting than all of the above).
Minho remains seated next to you the entire time you’re all drinking and laughing with each other. He keeps subtly touching you one way or another - a hand on your back because no one’s really noticing, a shoulder brushing yours, a thigh touching yours, a knee nudging your own every now and then.
It’s not until you finish your drink that Minho asks if you want another one, then stands up to head to the kitchen when you say Yes, please.
The second he’s out of earshot, Hyunjin jumps into action, motioning for everyone to huddle together, like he’s about to share classified information.
“Minho is seeing someone,” he says immediately. 
“What?” Changbin asks. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your body immediately stiffens at the conversation’s sudden turn. You try to look as nonchalant and quiet as possible, as if this is just a talk about the weather, missing the way a pair of eyes flits to you outside of your peripheral vision.
Hyunjin purses his lips, before clarifying, “I went through his phone last week.”
“You went through his phone?” Chan frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, dude.”
“He was in the bathroom and his phone was just sitting there unlocked. Then he got a text and I had to!” Hyunjin holds up his hands defensively. “Anyway, I don’t know if they’re dating or if they’re just fooling around, but there is someone! He’s simping hard.”
“How do you know that?” Seungmin chimes in. “Do you even know who it is?”
“I don’t know who it is. That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. There wasn’t a name name. He just calls her his-”
“What on earth are you guys doing?” Minho’s voice makes everyone disperse, leaning back into their respective seats like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. He sits down beside you again, handing you your cup back. You give him an appreciative but awkward smile. “What is Hyunjin blabbing about this time?”
“Nothing!” Hyunjin practically squeaks. The poor guy can’t spin a little white lie to save his life. Then he has the audacity to look offended as he gapes, “Also, why did you automatically assume it was me?”
“Because it’s always you at the scene of the crime.”
“It happened one time! No, twice. It was only those two ti-!”
Seungmin cuts in flatly. “He said you’re whipped for a girl you’re seeing.”
Everyone stops to stare at Minho. Even you turn your head to look at him, trying to gauge how he’ll respond to this. It makes you a little guilty, seeing that you’re part of the secret too, and yet he has to shoulder the lies by himself.
Well, technically, there hasn’t been any lying involved up until now. Just a simple withholding of the truth.
His face hardens for a brief moment, and you think he lets it show on purpose - his way of telling Hyunjin that he’s annoyed - because Minho can put on a flawless poker face when he wants to. There’s a couple of seconds where he clenches his jaw before he relaxes, the sharpness of his features softening as he shrugs off the accusation. “I am most certainly not whipped for anyone,” he says. “It’s just a casual thing.”
“If it’s just casual, why were you being so secretive about it, huh?” Hyunjin prods. 
“I wasn’t being secretive. I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business,” Minho answers coolly. 
“We’re your best friends! I tell you guys everything.”
“You sure do. Even things I’d rather not hear about.”
Jess and Changbin burst into light laughter, and you chuckle along with them but you don’t really find it that funny. You’re just trying to blend into the background, be a fly on the wall and observe how things unfold. Minho has assured you that there’s nothing for you to worry about, that there’s no way they could find out about the secret, but still.
Hyunjin groans exasperatedly. The nosiest drama queen you know. “Seriously, who’s the girl? I’m dying of curiosity here!”
“Drop it.” Minho glares at him.
“Just give me a hint! Is it someone we know?”
“You haven’t eaten tissues in a while, have you?”
“Try me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”
“Hyunjin, I swear to-”
“Okay!” Chan claps his hands together suddenly. “Let’s just all agree that we are all entitled to our privacy and people can share whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re comfortable, yeah?”
Everyone nods in agreement, except for Hyunjin who narrows his eyes petulantly at Minho as if to say This isn’t over. No one wants to poke a disgruntled tiger, let alone about something he seems so disinterested in sharing. Minho has always been a notoriously private person, even with the rest of the group.
Changbin shuffles a new topic into the mix to move things along, which you aren’t very keen on contributing to at the moment. When no one seems to be looking, Minho places a hand on your knee, rubbing it soothingly as if he can sense the unease that you’re feeling. It makes you glance at him, though neither of you says anything. You just look at each other for a moment, then turn back to the group when someone calls your name.
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Two hours and three rum and coke’s later, you were coming down from a good high when someone suggested ditching Yeonjun’s party to go to a club.
Normally, you would say no. You could only do one social event at a time, needing to recharge your metaphorical battery before you let yourself be dragged into the next one.
But you decided to make an exception for tonight.
Though, you promptly realized that it was probably a mistake.
You prefer the loudness of Yeonjun’s party than here. It’s loud and crowded, since it’s a Saturday night, and since it’s a club. The air is sticky and stuffy. The lights are perpetually blinding and headache-inducing. You’re not even on the dancefloor; you’re just hovering near the entrance and the bar, and there’s still barely any room to move. People keep trying to shove you out of their way, even with Minho attempting to act as your human shield. 
You let your displeasure be known through a deep frown.
Minho catches onto your chagrin almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning close to your ear to make sure you hear him over the music.
“Too many people,” you try to raise your voice so the booming noises don’t drown you out. “Can we go somewhere over there?”
He turns around, taps on Chan’s shoulder to get his attention before gesturing vaguely to that spot near the back that you just pointed out to him, presumably to let the others know that you’ll be wandering over there.
He takes your hand and leads the way. In the back, it’s still loud but less deafening than before, and much less crowded compared to the areas surrounding the dance floor.
“Better?” he asks.
You lean against the wall though you probably shouldn’t. The ick is apparent, but at this point in the night, you yourself are already feeling pretty gross anyway.
“A little bit,” you say. “Thanks.”
“You wanna go home? We can leave if you want.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
“Did you know that people who leave parties without saying goodbye save two days a year? It’s been researched.”
You rephrase your words so Minho would understand better. “Without Hyunjin’s permission?”
“Hyunjin has been pissing me off plenty all week. I can play my card for you.”
“What card?”
“The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ card.”
You tilt your head, clearly amused. “And how does that usually work out for you?”
“I don’t care how it works out because Hyunjin is not gonna do anything to me.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can always just throw him in the airfryer when he gets too annoying.”
This makes you laugh, recalling the exact moment Minho brought up the legendary instructions on how to cook Hyunjin.
“How violent,” you comment with a snort.
“He deserves it.”
“You know you still have a soft spot for him,” you say.
“I have a soft spot for you,” he replies.
“Now look who’s trying to get laid.”
He grins. “Could you blame me?”
Some drunk girls stumble into your space on their way to the bathroom, bumping into you, pushing you into Minho’s body where he instinctively puts a hand on your back to keep you steady. You glance up at him after the girls have safely arrived at the bathroom, only to find him already staring down at you. His back is turned toward where the lights are coming from and the angle shrouds his face in darkness, but you can still make out the stars twinkling in his eyes.
The sudden lack of space between your bodies makes your breath hitch.
“Are you still drunk?” he asks.
“No. Not really.” You don’t like the way your voice comes out small, vulnerable.
“I…” he starts, hesitating for a moment before he continues. His eyes flicker to your lips, and the breath that was previously caught in your throat further thickens. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you right now.”
For some reason, your heart leaps to your throat. It’s probably because of the remnants of alcohol refusing to leave your system, because how else would you explain the way your pulse quickens just from hearing those words coming from him?
He bites his lip, similar to how Yeonjun did it just a few hours ago, but seeing Minho do it is at least a hundred times more enticing.
You want him to kiss you too. You really do.
“What if the others see?” you protest meekly, but you’re already staring at his mouth, finding yourself gravitating toward him like he’s got you hypnotized.
“We’re all the way back here,” he tells you. “They won’t see anything.”
He leans closer until his lips are brushing yours. With a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head, he meets your mouth in a soft kiss, which is a stark contrast to the upbeat and booming music blasting all around you. Some guy drunkenly gives you two a sleazy whistle, the sound coming from somewhere on your right, but neither of you pays it any attention.
Your hands come to clutch at the collar of his shirt like a lifeline. He’s never kissed you outside of the comfort of your bedroom before, let alone amidst a sea of people like this. It feels strange to be intimate with him in public, but at the same time, it excites you. There’s still a sense of anonymity because you’re camouflaged by the lights, masked by the darkness, hiding in plain sight.
The kiss gets more heated. He guides you a step back until you’re all pressed up against the wall, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it the way he likes that makes him groan against your mouth. He sucks on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle dancing with yours, making your knees buckle. It’s dizzying. It makes your head spin, and you don’t know if it’s because there’s still enough residual alcohol in your system to knock your world off its axis, or if it’s just him.
The hand previously on your hips sneaks underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin. He gropes your breasts over the bralette you chose to wear tonight, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm, all the while slotting one of his legs between yours to help you grind on him. Your clothed cunt rolls over the denim of his jeans, and even though the friction is coarse and your movements are limited in this crowded space, the pleasure still sets your entire body alight. Minho spreads all over you like wildfire, and Minho consumes you like a hurricane.
You moan into his mouth when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, over the flimsy material of your undergarment. “Min,” you whimper desperately. You don’t know if he can hear you over the obnoxiously loud sounds coming from the speakers littered all over the place, but he groans against your mouth regardless. Almost like the nickname is driving him crazy.
He pulls back just slightly, to let the both of you catch your breath. “Should we go back to yours?” he asks, eyes still focused on your mouth.
You nod eagerly. You know you must be wet as hell right now, and if you have to wait any longer, you will probably explode from frustration. You might just drag him into that disgusting bathroom over there and let him have his way with you, but you will definitely regret it afterward because it’s a bathroom in a nightclub. It’s beyond revolting.
He helps you smooth out your hair, gentle and tender. In turn, you wipe your lipstick smudges on his face. Instead of taking you by the hand like he did earlier, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and navigates the two of you through the crowd, shielding you from anyone who might bump into you. You lean into the touch; it’s just comforting.
As you make your way back to the group - or what’s left of the group at the moment - his hand drops to his side again. There’s an inkling of disappointment that blossoms in you, but it dissipates quickly when Hyunjin spots you and lights up. Him and Seungmin are at the bar, seemingly trying to get the bartender’s attention. Changbin is next to them, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the girl he’s chatting with. You try to scan the crowd for Chan and Jess, and find them a couple minutes later, standing in a corner, pressed up against each other just like you and Minho moments ago.
“Where did you run off to?” Hyunjin asks. Clearly Chan was too preoccupied with his girlfriend to relay the information.
“It’s too loud in here, I was getting a headache,” you say, only half a lie. You know your face must still be flushed from your impromptu makeout session, but you hope your friend can’t see the rosy shade painting your skin under all the flashing lights. “Min and I just went back there to see if it was quieter.”
“Okay.” He seems to believe you. “We’re trying to get drinks! You want anything?”
“I think I’m gonna just go home. You guys stay and have fun though.”
Hyunjin looks at you like he’s so flabbergasted. “It’s not even 3AM yet!”
“Headache,” you say, pointing to your temple with an exaggeratedly pained expression on your face. “I’ll stay out all night with you next time.”
“But-!” The second he opens his mouth to protest, Minho cuts in sharply, his tone leaving no room for anyone to argue despite the gigantic pout on Hyunjin’s face.
“I’m gonna take her home and call it a night too,” he simply says.
Hyunjin groans, but he relents in the end, muttering to you something that sounds like “You owe me one,” when you go to hug him goodbye. Before you and Minho can reach the door, you hear your man child of a friend call after you two in his pterodactyl voice, “Don’t make Minho’s girl jealous!”
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.01.2024]
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burrowlvrr · 4 months
Text
— HUDDLE OF LOVE, joe burrow.
PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader
GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe
SUMMARY: In which — Joe faces an injury that brings his season to an early end, and when he gets home his wife makes sure that he knows his injury doesn't define him.
NOTE: I honestly feel like I ate this one up. But I also didn't really proof-read it, so don't hold me to that lol! This has been sitting in the drafts since Joe was hurt so it's been a min. Please send in some suggestions because writing is so fun to me now. Enjoy!
UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!
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"Y'know, football is a tough sport, and injuries are unfortunately a part of it. We'll regroup, support each other, and continue to fight through the rest of the season; but, as of now, it's looking like Joe will be out for the rest of the season." Coach Zac Taylor spoke into the microphone, Y/N's head fell into her hands as she exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. That was all Y/N needed to hear, picking up the remote before shutting the television off.
Y/N had to watch her husband suffer an injury during his game against the Ravens, and if it weren't for the huge mess her children were making — they probably would've seen it to. Thankfully, they were being too rowdy to hear anything that was said on the television. She directed Hudson to the playroom so he could distract himself, and she began running Elijah's bath water first.
She tried to distract herself with things to do, knowing the emotions she was feeling were just lesser versions of what her husband would be feeling once he got home. She was now nine months pregnant, and even though she walked with a very noticeable waddle, she got around pretty well. Not to mention, it's way easier to move around when there's only one baby inside you rather than two.
She finished washing Elijah's blonde curls and got him in his pajamas before sending him to the playroom with one job — "Tell your brother I said come on." She instructed, her son playfully giving her a soldier salute before running down their tiled hallway. Within one minute, Hudson stood right behind her as she finished running his warm water. "Can I get some bubbles, mama?"
Y/N smiled at her baby boy, "Yes, baby. You can get some bubbles." She replied, dumping a small cap full of vanilla scented bubbles in his warm water. She let her child play on his own while she sat on top of the toilet seat, watching him in adoration as he continuously pushed a small boat around in his water. "Okay, bub. It's time to get washed up now.
Hudson had no complaints, doing what he could on his own before asking his mother for help. She slowly got to her knees in front of the tub, being careful when she dumped cup fulls of water onto her son's head. Once she had his hair washed, she got him out and got him dressed in his matching pajamas with Elijah. Both of them being covered in orange and black tiger stripes, a large number nine on the back, along with the lettering "Baby Burrow".
"Can you tell bubba it's time to brush our teeth?" She asked Hudson, finishing up rubbing in the dollop of child's face lotion into his skin. Hudson nodded with a toothy, but pretty but toothless, smile before he took off running to grab his twin brother.
She grabbed their step stools from under the cabinet and got their tooth brushes ready, handing them each their own as they stepped up to the sink. "Hum your ABC's, remember? Mommy is in your room, yell if you need me!" She chirped, smiling at her boys in the mirror as they moved in an identical way.
She exited the bathroom, entering their shared bedroom and untucking their sheets for them. She clicked their LED light remote a few times, landing on the color blue for the evening. She always set an hour long timer; so that by the time the boys are knocked out, so were the lights.
She waddled back into the bathroom, seeing her twins already washing their hands as they knew they were supposed to. Her boys were already so smart and they were only three, she couldn't wait to see how intelligent they were in their classrooms. "All done!" Elijah turned around and exaggeratedly jumped from the step stool, of course Hudson mirrored his actions and did a hop of his own.
"It's time for bed, my loves." She smiled warmly, seeing their faces light up as they already knew what she was about to ask. "Who can get in their bed quicker?!" She asked, and both of her boys jumped off of their back leg and sprinted towards their shared bedroom. She giggled, turning off the bathroom lights before running a hand through her curly hair.
"Who won?" She asked, smirking at her boys as she entered their blue toned bedroom. Instant chatter filled the room, fingers pointed at themselves yelping about how they won, before turning their hand and accusing the other of being a cheater. Y/N couldn't help but laugh, no matter how many times they do this, it's always the exact same. "We can have a rematch tomorrow night, alright? We'll let daddy be the judge."
Both of them liked that idea, loving anything that had to do with their father. Y/N's stomach twisted at the reminder of Joe's injury, knowing he was no more than an hour and a half away now. With forehead, cheek and tummy kisses from both of the boys, Y/N sat on the floor between their beds and began reading their favorite bedtime stories.
As the stories unfolded, Y/N could feel the gentle kicks of her unborn baby, seemingly enjoying the bedtime tales. The connection between the growing family was palpable in these intimate moments.
The room, once echoing with lively laughter, now settled into a serene atmosphere as Y/N stood from her spot on the floor. "Sweet dreams, my little stars," she whispered, planting a kiss on each of their foreheads. The twins, eyelids growing heavy, whispered their sleepy goodnights. Y/N, with a content smile, left the room, closing the door gently behind her.
Y/N decided to take a quick shower, using the bathroom down the hall from her boys' bedroom just in case they woke up needing her comfort. She stepped out, washing her face and brushing her teeth, making her way to her and Joe's bedroom to put some clothes on. She always found herself freezing in her sleep, so she decided on a figure-hugging black long sleeve and a pair of customized sweatpants, the choice of lettering being "BURROW" right on her bottom.
She replaced her contacts with glasses and her tall socks with slippers, she tied her hair up into a messy ponytail before taking a seat at her marble island. She had tons of lesson plans to catch up on, doing them before the birth of her baby seemed like a good plan — because obviously, once the baby was out and a little bit older, she would have to return to work. She was an elementary school teacher, having a love for all children, no matter if they were her's biologically or just because it was her job. From a young age, she knew that she wanted to have an impact on people's lives, what better time to start than when their brain is still freshly developing?
Y/N had just closed her MacBook with a sigh when she heard the lock on the front door beep, indicating that someone with the code had just unlocked it. She chose to stay seated, not wanting to immediately bombard Joe once he got through the door. She continued to organize her stack of lesson plans, going on as if she didn't hear the shuffling at the front door.
It was unusually quiet to Joe, he furrowed his eyebrows as he turned his head. He listened for some sort of greeting, his eyes scanned the view of the house that he had. Nothing. No pattering of his children's feet, no scolding from his wife about their running, no 60's record spinning from the living room. He finally called out, "Hello?"
Y/N took that as her cue, sliding off of the barstool before waddling into the living room. She watched as Joe's expression visually relaxed, his shoulders now slouched as she smiled at him. "Hi, handsome. I missed you." She said happily, taking her hands and placing one on each of his rosy cheeks.
Joe wrapped his good arm around her waist. "I missed you more." He replied, looking into her eyes as she rubbed circles under his puffy eyes. Y/N helped him remove the duffle bag from his shoulder, carefully placing it on the bench near the door. Joe slid his shoes off, using his one good arm to lean on the wall as a way to steady himself. Y/N watched from a few feet away, waiting for Joe to break the silence himself.
That was when she noticed the anxious look on his face, he walked up to her and she looked up at him in concern. "Are they sleepin' already?" He asked, chewing on his bottom lip as he searched his wife's eyes. She nodded.
"Yeah, they've been out for a little over an hour now." She reassured him, knowing why he was feeling anxious and worrying about his children. He had always expressed his fears of parenthood and how his career could possibly affect that. Tonight would be one of those nights, luckily, Y/N knew that she could reassure him that the boys were not watching when he suffered his injury.
"You wanna go see 'em?" She asked, placing a hand on his arm lovingly. Joe nodded, blinking rapidly as he pulled his beanie from his head.
She reached out for his hand, he took it and tried to give her a soft smile. There was an understanding of what Joe was feeling, so they didn't need to say a thing as they ventured off upstairs. They stopped at the boys' bedroom door, and Y/N twisted the door knob as quietly as she could. She opened the door just enough that Joe could poke his head in and see his sleeping twins, Y/N followed his actions and a warm smile grew on her face. A regular occurrence in their room was Elijah getting out of his bed, and finding his way to Hudson's so they could sleep together. No matter how many times Y/N and Joe exited their room with them in separate beds, they would always come back to them sharing one.
Joe's chest heaved slower than before, letting Y/N know he had calmed down even if it wasn't much. "They're alright, honey," She spoke softly, using a warm tone that reassured Joe easily. It was no secret that toddlers are a lot to handle, but Y/N was a strong woman and knew how to work with her children. Sure, they were a handful today — but she would much rather chase them around the house, than try to wrangle them in the football stands.
Her round belly brushed against Joe's flat one as they stood close to each other, his good arm around her waist and her hand on his chest. "Absolutely pooped from all the hell they raised today." She continued, earning a soft chuckle from her husband, but another wave of silence quickly washed over them.
A million thoughts swirled around in Joe's head, his eyes darting from each of his son's faces. He inhaled deeply, then turned to face his wife with tired eyes. "Did they se—" He started, his voice cracking before he could even finish his question. But there was no need, Y/N knew him like the back of her hand, and she already knew what he was about to ask.
She shook her head, moving her hand from his chest to run through his blonde hair. "No, they were being noisy with all their toys when it happened. And I got them ready for bed right after." She explained, her eyes searching his for some sort of response. All he could do was nod, nibbling on his lip as she looked at the walls around them instead of his wife. "Why don't we go lay down, huh?"
They traveled down the hall to their bedroom hand in hand, the low chatter of their bedroom tv was the only noise they heard as they entered. The news reports dimly lit their bedroom, casting shadows on the walls as it bounced from frame to frame. Y/N didn't want to poke the bear just yet, so she decided to let Joe do his own thing while she freshened up before bed. Once she turned the faucet off, she heard a faint sniffle from their connected bedroom. She quickly wiped her hands on her sweats before exiting the bathroom.
She came out to find Joe standing in their tall mirror. He used his sleeve to wipe his nose, noticing that Y/N had came out of the bathroom. The television mentioned his name for what seemed like the millionth time that night, Joe's eyes snapped to the floor hearing it. Y/N gave a sympathetic frown, watching as he took a seat at the foot of their bed. She sat down next to him, placing a hand on his thigh.
"What did they say?" She asked, looking toward him but he was focused on the television in front of them. He brought his good arm up, rubbing his ear as he always did when he was upset. He could the frustration building up once more, he sucked in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. "A torn ligament." He replied.
Y/N nodded her head, "I'm not gonna tell you you're gonna bounce back because I'm sure you've heard that plenty of times today." She began, "We both know you will. You'll just have another surgery to repair it."
"Another surgery." He repeated, shaking his head and rubbing his temples. He still hadn't faced her, feeling too defeated to look her in the eyes now.
"You'll play again." She assured him, her hand coming up to play with the hairs at the back of his neck. "I know you will." Joe sat with his shoulder's slumped, the loss of the game resting heavily on them.
"I know." He sighed, moving his gaze to stare at the floorboards now. Y/N felt as if nothing she would say could help him feel any better, so she chose to let the silence consume them once more. The low chatter of the television continued, it was beginning to annoy her with how many times they'd brought up Joe's injury. The game has been over for hours now, we get it. With that, she got up from her spot beside Joe and turned the television off completely. The sudden movement made Joe look up, from the ground, watching as his wife waddled back to her spot beside him.
The silence was broken by Joe this time, "I feel like I'm being dramatic." He spoke up, causing Y/N to turn to him with wide eyes. "Honey, you just faced a season ending injury — and you think you're being dramatic?" She asked him, he shrugged his shoulders in defeat.
"I think you've got a hell of a good reason to be "dramatic"." She used her two fingers to quote the word, earning a very dry chuckle from her husband. She dropped her hands to her lap, cocking her head to the side as she looked at him in concern.
He wiped his nose with his sleeve again, forcing a smile and another chuckle before he spoke. "I just hate how long it takes to recover from these things. It's takes a lot of work." He confessed, making Y/N feel like their communication was finally working.
"Yeah, I get that." She began, "But you're strong and you're dedicated to this sport. It'll come so easily to you after your surgery." A small smile grew on his face, but he began to shake his head once more.
"It just really sucks." He said bluntly, "The only thing I'm good at, I can't even do again for ten more months." He huffed, his words spinning a wheel in Y/N's mind. Her lips turned into a frown as he talked down on himself.
"Don't talk like that, Joe." She said, "Football is not the only thing you're good at." Her wedding ring shined as she reached for his right cheek, turning his head to face her. "You're an amazing daddy and an amazing husband. A torn ligament isn't stopping that at all. Nothing is ever going to stop that, you hear me?" She searched his face for an answer, he closed his eyes for a moment as he began to feel them burning with tears.
Joe had always struggled to be vulnerable, but Y/N always found a way to make him crawl out of that shell. He couldn't thank her enough for that. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to, either. "I hear you." He responded, his voice cracking as he spoke. He bit his bottom lip, and nodded his head as he dropped his gaze to his fingers. A silence fell over them once again, but this time it was comfortable.
"We should really get to bed." Joe said, wiping his face with his hoodie sleeve as he stood up from the bed. Y/N's gaze followed him as he held out his hands for her, her eyes grazing over his new cast and sling. He followed her gaze and, in an embarrassed manner, dropped his left arm. She held on tight as she struggled to lift two people's body weight off the edge of the bed, her arms absentmindedly wrapping around Joe's neck. He exhaled a deep breath at her touch, and she let out a breath of relief due to all the moving she'd just done.
"We love you either way." She whispered, grabbing Joe's left hand and placing it on her round stomach. "All of us. We love you, and thats with or without football." Joe let the tears fall from his eyes, and let his hand rest in his wife's stomach as she moved her hand to wipe his falling tears.
He rubbed her stomach in a loving manner, his shoulders bouncing with each quiet sob that he choked out. "Yeah, I know." He barely got out the three words, Y/N kept wiping the tears and rubbing his arms up and down.
"You're strong and you will overcome this. You always recover in a way that shows how truly remarkable you are, Joe. That's never gonna change. No matter how large the obstacle." She grabbed a hold of both of his forearms lightly, being mindful of his injury, making him look her in the eyes. "You're capable of recovering from this set back. And you have nothing to prove to anybody except those boys in there — but they already know their daddy is strong."
"I love you." He said, closing his eyes with a sigh as she placed a loving kiss on his cheek. "I love you more, baby." She then placed a kiss on his lips, pulling him in for one more tight embrace before bed. He walked her to her side of the bed, helping her get under the sheets, before making his way to his side and climbing in right beside her.
Although he let a few more tears fall while lying down, he couldn't help but feel as if he was stronger already. She fell asleep before him, but continued to whisper affirmations and play with his blonde locks in her sleep. She held him to her chest, and his arms wrapped around her very large bump. He looked up at her in admiration, she never failed to amaze him with how patient she was.
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