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formulaforza · 2 years ago

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oh, simple thing— c.sainz

"the earth laughs in flowers" pairing: carlos sainz x female reader wc: 4.1k notes: guys remember when i used to write? back in january? crazy times. anyways.

You were five years old the first time you proclaimed that you were going to marry Carlos. It came, of course, after the implication that you would also be marrying Prince Charming (as long as he didn’t keep your glass slipper–shoes are a woman’s best friend, your mom had told you once and you never forgot it) and the gym teacher at your primary school, whose crush you’d never admit to anyone but your mom. Can you imagine the teasing? Thinking a grown-up is cute? It’s completely preposterous… or, when you were five, super-duper silly.

All three of the loves of your life were completely coincidental, coming to your brain while your mom read you a bedtime story completely coincidentally. You’d had gym class that day, of course. Played with the rolling scooters and argued with the older kids about getting a turn on the tube slide. Scooter day was always your favorite, so it was no surprise your teacher was in your good graces that evening. A

After dinner, while flipping lazily through channels on the big square television in the family room, your dad had clicked on the Disney Channel by mistake. Cinderella was halfway through and you threw a fit every time he tried to change the channel. You just thought she looked so pretty, in her big princess dress dancing at the ball.

Carlos, what had Carlos done to be in your good graces that day…? He wasn’t in your class, so you couldn’t enlist him in the war of the slides or crash into him on the scooters. He definitely wasn’t running around your house after dinner. If he was, your Mom would still be cleaning up after him somewhere in the house. Carlos, Carlos, Carlos… what had he–oh! That’s right! The flower on the way home from school. How could you ever forget the first flower? He’ll give you shit for it later.

Your mom and Carlos’ mom had been best friends long before you and Carlos burst into the scene. They liked each other more than just about anyone, and you never did understand how Reyes never tired of your Mother’s antics. She was always bossing you around, forcing you to clean up your toys and read your books. Carlos got away with whatever he wanted, his parents would even lie for him on his reading logs. Anyways, stay focused. Because your parents were such good friends, you and Carlos grew up side by side. Parallel play or bust, since neither of you were particularly apt at sharing. Everyday on the walk home from school, your moms would catch up on the gossip from the night before while you and Carlos tried to kill each other with various objects found on the sidewalk. This day, there had been eleven pebbles, two rocks, a stick, and Carlos’ metal water bottle (the one with the HotWheels logo on the side). Now, Carlos was charging at you with… a flower? A bluebell, one he’d picked straight from the ground, root and all hanging from his fist. When he held it out to you, you scowled. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. In fact, it was about as perfect as a bluebell from the sidewalk can get, but, you’re a little shit.

“It’s dead,” you said, took it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s not nice to pick flowers, Carlito. It kills them.” He burst into tears and your mother scolded you the rest of the way home, even though it was her who always told you to leave the wildflowers wild. After some time and consideration (a plate of dinosaur nuggets, half of Cinderella, and a bedtime story) you’d decided maybe Carlos was right to cry about the dead flower.

Carlos, it seemed, had gotten over the dead flower incident pretty quickly because, the very next day, he was already making a joke of it. He’d held up the walk home for fifteen minutes while he searched through a field in the park. Both of your mothers and Blanca had already shown him what had to be a hundred or so healthy, perky flowers. Carlos shook his head at each one of them, typical. You sat on the curb of the garden and played with the ants that had built a sandy hill beside your foot. You resisted the urge to stomp it, only because you knew you’d be lectured about leaving the bugs alone in the same way you were about leaving the flowers alone. After a lifetime–or enough time to have an after school snack–Carlos finally settled on the ugliest, most wilted flower you’d ever laid your eyes on. He presented it to you with a laugh and, because you’re just as stubborn as he is, you accepted the gift graciously and let it sit vaseless on your dresser for three days before someone threw it away.

Truthfully, though, the real reason you probably proclaimed your intent to marry him that night wasn’t some flower. It was that Blanca had defended you from his water bottle strike with a pebble to the back of his head, and you thought that would be a good kind of person to have as a sister.

Carlos was seventeen when he figured he’d probably end up with you eventually for the first time. There wasn’t anything romantic about it. It was more of an ah, fuck. It’s gonna be her, isn’t it?

Your families were in Mallorca, touring some vineyard–well, your parents were touring the vineyard. You, Carlos, and all of the siblings had snuck off from the group one by one and met up in the grove just outside the property. Carlos was bumming a cigarette from Blana when Ana finally turned up, stomping her way through the grass and wildflowers annoyedly. Carlos takes a puff of the cigarette and passes it over to you.

“You’re going to start a wildfire, you know?” Ana says, crosses her arms over her chest and pops out a hip all bratty.

“Ana,” Carlos groans, “shut the fuck up.” You exhale a puff of smoke through a laugh.

“If you’re going to be mean, I’m going back to Mom and Dad.”

“Okay,” he says, “have fun.”

“I will,” she proclaims, visibly annoyed that she isn’t drawing a reaction from her big brother. She loves to piss him off, everyone does, because it’s just so easy. “I’ll have sooo much fun telling them about how you’re all in the woods smoking. I’m sure Dad will love that, don’t you think, Carlos?” Blanca rolls her eyes. Sometimes it’s fun to mess with Ana, and sometimes keeping her humble becomes more of a chore than anything else.

Ana stomps away, her whole sneaky journey wasted, the group’s entire smoke session ruined by the pesky baby sister who can’t decide if she wants more to be included or to be a tattletale. “Don’t kill any more flowers on the way back!” Carlos calls after her, passes the cigarette to you again for one last puff before the lot of you have to make your way back to the winery, to the bathroom you’d all claimed to need to use over the past hour. Ana turns on her heels to make sure Carlos can see her eye roll. He just smiles, and you think if Carlos was your brother you probably would have killed him with your bare hands a long time ago.

You squat down to put the cigarette out in the dirt and Carlos digs a hole with his heel for you to drop it into, kicks the dirt back over it and stomps on it a couple times. “Fuckin’ snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

He snatches up one of the stomped on flowers, pulls it from the ground–root and all–and presents it to you. “You really are such an ass,” you say, take the flower and link your arm through his for the remainder of the walk back. “I love you,” you add, “but you’re an ass.”

You were twenty the first time your friendship with Carlos became a threat to one of your relationships. It wouldn’t be the last time. You’d been together for seven months, you and Mateo, Mateo and you. Met at a club in Barcelona and the rest was history. It was a simple conflict of interest, a scheduling woe. You were forced to make a decision. Your boyfriend’s grandma’s birthday party… or Carlos’ debut in Australia. To you, it seemed like the easiest decision in the world. His grandmother isn’t even that old–she’s got plenty of birthdays ahead of her, ones that you’d be happy to celebrate. But Carlos’ debut? Really? That’s once in a lifetime. It’s the shit you just don’t miss, even if you’re in the hospital or literally on your deathbed (which Mateo’s grandma is NOT, by the way. She lived seven more years according to recent Facebook posts).

“You’re going to Australia?” He’d scoffed when you told him, mentioned it so nonchalantly over dinner. When I’m in Australia, don’t forget to water the plants, or something along those trivial lines. He was just as offended as you were utterly confused. There’s no way he thought– “What about my abuela’s birthday?”

You’d laughed. The wrong thing to do, you know, but it was an action done without thought, without intention. “What about it?”

“You’re supposed to come with me.”

“I never said that,” you shake your head and he pulls a face. You set your silverware down and prepare for the coming argument. Normally, you’d just back down, but this is Carlos we’re talking about. Carlos, and his dream. Carlos, and his reality. “I didn’t,” you reaffirm.

He leans forward onto the table, elbows shaking the entire thing, rattling the wine glasses and ceramic against the wood. “I assumed you–”

“–I don’t know why you would assume I‘d be doing anything except supporting Carlos,” you say, more defensive than you intend to be. It’s just, you can already see where this is going, even if it’s never gone there before. You’ve watched the girls Carlos brings home look at him the same way Mateo is looking at you right now, or more importantly, how he doesn’t look at you.

“You know, I don’t either.” He nods, but it’s more of a full body movement, like he’s rocking forward, lips pursed and jaw tight. His eyebrows raise like he’s going to shrug, like he’s surprised with himself. You doubt you read the emotion right. “It’s always about Carlos, isn’t it?”

You lean back in your seat, cross your arms over your chest, close your eyes just long enough to hide the eye roll, and then you’re piling the silverware and the napkin onto the plate and moving the party to the kitchen sink. “I’m not doing this right now,” you say when you grab the wine glass carelessly.

“Oh, so you know what this is about, then?” He calls after you, gathers his things sloppily and follows you into the kitchen.

“You just said it’s about Carlos,” you say, slamming the sink on and clattering the plates into the bowl. Carlos had told you about these fights, about the ones he’s had with his girlfriends. You’d laughed about them, always thought it was so funny–the idea of someone left fuming by your friendship. The crazy assumptions, they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried. You and Carlos are nothing but platonic, you’ve always been platonic, you’ll always be platonic. When you know someone as long as you’ve known Carlos, they just become a part of you, build this little home in your soul that blends in so perfectly you could never cut it out with clean margins. It’s not just Carlos, either. It’s Blanca and Ana, too. Hell, it’s even Carlos Sr. and Reyes, but nobody ever seems to understand that.

“It’s my Abuela,” he says, like you’re supposed to be moved or something, and he sets his dishes in the sink on top of yours. “It’s her birthday, and you’re supposed to come with me. I told my family you were coming.”

“I don’t understand why you would do that,” you start scrubbing the first plate with far more aggression than required. You’re not a good fighter, you get mean, and you get mean quick. “I was never not going to Australia.”

He laughs, leans against the counter with his arms crossed, staring at the ground, at the crumbs waiting to be swept up. “Because you’re never going to choose me over Carlos, right?”

“Mateo.”

“Answer the question.”

You freeze, squeeze the soapy sponge in a fist until there’s nothing left to ring out of it. “I’m certainly not going to choose your Abuela over my friend. Over my brother.”

“He’s not your brother.”

You sigh, go back to cleaning. “He’s like my brother.”

“Yeah, if you wanted to fuck your brother,” he says, and meets your eyes with wide, proud eyes like he’d done something, caught you in some illicit love affair. You resist the urge to grab the wand from the sink and spray him with a jet of water.

Instead, coldly, you’d replied, “get out,” and pointed to the door.

His hands shot up in some great defense. Or maybe it was offense, you really never could read him that well. “I see how you look at him.”

In. Out. In, and then out. Deep breaths. “I said leave, Mateo.”

“Because you know I’m right.” In, then out. “You know how fucked up it is that there’s three people in our relationship,” in, out. “Four, if you count Carlos’ girlfriend! What do you think she thinks about all this? You looking at her boyfriend like your favorite candy?” In, then. In, then–in, and then you slap him with a wet hand, the contact reverberating into a splash, coating the walls and the ceiling and the entire fucking room in anger. Anger, and dirty dish water.

The anger is deafening, the room so quiet that the sink makes the kitchen sound like it’s directly behind a waterfall.

He storms off into the living room. You return to the dishes, hear the jingle of his keys, the door opening. “Fuck you!” You call after him, but what you really mean is Fuck Carlos.

When you get the breakup text a few days later, you’re not surprised. You put on your best face and pretend you never read it because while your boyfriend did just break up with you in a seven word text, you’re sitting out the back of the Toro Rosso motorhome watching Carlos pace.

You’ll tell him later, you think, after the race. And then, you don’t dare ruin the celebration, ride the high out until it can’t be ridden any longer. By the time you do get around to telling him, you’re all but moved on, mentioning it nonchalantly amongst the chaos of his first season. It falls away to the backburner, into irrelevancy, and Carlos never does ask what happened to sour the relationship. He does, however, have a wilted arrangement of flowers delivered to your front door with a handwritten note–ugly and dead, just like your relationship. You’d laughed for maybe twenty straight minutes.

Carlos was twenty-four when he realized he was in love with you, that maybe he always had been. He’d just broken up with a girlfriend, one whose name he hardly remembers now. Alessandra… Alena… Adrianna–oh, screw it. It was definitely an “A,” and if it wasn’t, he’s sure it was a vowel. Not the point. He was twenty-four and had just dumped whatever her name was because it just didn’t feel right. (What does right feel like at twenty-four? And how do you know it when you see it? The world may never know).

It was three races into the 2019 season, and he’d been having a particularly unlucky start with his new team. He’d spent the offseason relatively alone in Woking, finding his footing in a new place, a new team, a new car. Everything is gray, you’d told him the night he announced his impending move, scrolling through your phone at Google search results for the town. “It’s not gray,” he said, and without needing to say anything or flash him a look, he backtracked. “Okay, it’s a little gray.”

Three races in–an engine fire and two first lap collisions–in, and everything is feeling pretty gray, not just his rainy apartment (flat, he’s been taught to call it) in Woking. The cards felt stacked against him, and reluctantly, he’d called in reinforcements to Baku, a couple of good luck charms in the form of the people he loved. You, Ana, and Blanca flew in together and made Carlos come pick you up from the airport himself.

You climbed into the backseat and were anything but gray. You were glowing, completely and utterly sunkissed, and your hair was messy from travel but it reminded him of what you’re like after a good nap. Groggy and sleepy and desperate to stretch out like a cat. He hates that he knows how you like to stretch after a nap, the exact pattern of movements you do. Do you know how much time you have to spend with someone to memorize their post-nap stretch routine? Too much time, that’s how much.

You got into his car, all bright and sunny, and sure, his sisters were there and he loves them so much. But, you’re here, and you’re bright and sunny and everything feels just a little less gray. He pulls out from the airport and while he doesn’t realize that he loves you just yet, he knows something in him has been chemically altered by your smile, irrevocably so.

It’s Sunday when he realizes, somewhere between the checkered flag and the team debrief when you and the girls appear, practically crash into him like you’d been dropped down into the garage right from the sky. He hugs you, and you smell like sunshine. He wants to bash his head into the wall of his driver's room, to lay in front of Lando’s car and ask him to run him over because he’s not supposed to take note of the way you smell (unless it’s to call you out for smelling like shit).

You kiss his cheek and shove his shoulder because you’re so happy for him, because you’re always so happy for him. He doesn’t think it’s fair for someone like him to always have someone this happy for him. He loves that about you. He loves everything about you. He loves you. Fuck, he’s in love with you.

Lando nearly pees his pants over a tweet the next day. Carlos has reached a new level of Carlos-ing, it read, with a picture of him visibility distracted while being fed to the media pen. He can’t tell his teammate that the reason he’s so distracted is because he’s internally debating the pros and cons of ruining your friendship forever.

You’re twenty-four when you and Carlos start dating. The two of you drag it out for as long as humanly possible, stretch the patience of everyone around you so thin they won’t be surprised (or concerned) at the idea of you and him getting together. It’s scary. Really, really scary to admit your feelings for each other, to tell the rest of the world about it, but Carlos keeps bringing you these mis-shapen flowers, ones where the dye is soaked up poorly or they’re a couple days too wilted. It’s our thing, he would always say, and kiss you while you cut the stems to fit in your favorite vase.

He was right, it was something that was just yours. There was nobody else actively searching out dying flowers in the shops or carefully picking the dirtiest wildflower from its root on an evening walk through the city. That was just the two of you, and nobody else understood it.

“It’s gross,” a friend told you, twiddling one of the half-dead flower stems between her fingers while you shared gossip over glasses of wine. “You got these today and they’re ready to be thrown in the bin.”

“You don’t get it,” you’d swatted her words away. The dead flowers weren’t understood, and they didn’t need to be. They were special to you and Carlos, and when it came down to it, nothing else mattered to you.

“Seriously, though,” she’d continued, “It’s… I don’t know. Dead flowers, it’s just weird.”

Carlos is twenty-six when you break up. It’s mutual, it is. Even when it doesn’t feel like it’s mutual, when either one of you desperately searches to blame the other for the pitfalls, it’s still mutual, still two people who love each other. Who just aren’t in love with each other anymore.

There’s a lot of reasons if you want to get into it, but his new drive is the catalyst for pretty much all of them. Carlos is with Ferrari now, which is the dream, but it's also the nightmare. McLaren is iconic and historic but Ferrari… well. Everyone knows the Vettel quote, everyone knows the kid’s car is red. Ferrari’s Ferrari and you’re just… you. Time runs out, patience runs thin, and that’s the end of it.

You’re twenty-seven when you see him for the first time post-breakup. It’s a setup by your parents. Mallorca and the vineyard, again. You don’t think anything of it, so much has happened in the last decade and Mallorca is half of Spain’s favorite vacation destination.

He’s sitting with his family at the bar, the whole clan of them sipping from a wine-tasting tray. His eyes shoot up to meet yours with the loud creak of the old, heavy doors. He does a double take, and your stomach turns into a ball of knotted necklaces.

During the same tour you’d been on all those years ago, you sneak off with the same excuse you’d used. Blanca and Ana don’t follow after you to debate the environmental damages of bumming a cigarette in the grove or to threaten to snitch on you to your parents. They stay behind and listen and you stomp through the wildflowers to get some air. You’re already outside, Carlos would say if he were there. You’re my dirty air, you’d tell him, and he would roll his eyes, shove his hands deep in his pockets and rock on his heels.

He knows you’re not in the bathroom, there isn’t a single nerve in your mind that thinks he doesn’t know exactly where you are. He doesn’t sneak off behind you. You gather your thoughts in the grove by yourself, leant against a tree older than you’ll dream of being. You pick a wildflower, one that looks picture perfect, snap it carefully from the root and stick the stem behind your ear.

When you return to your party, they don’t notice you’ve been gone for far too long to use the bathroom or that you’ve got a flower in your hair. Well, all of them except Carlos, who slows his walking pace to drop to the back of the group next to you. “Nice flower,” he comments quietly.

You nod, watch your feet as they move in synchronized steps with him on the grassy path. “Thanks.”

“It’s dead,” he adds, and you smile dimly. “It’s not nice to kill the flowers.”

Carlos is twenty-eight when he’s perusing the birthday card section at the local gift shop. He’s trying to find one that perfectly sums up his birthday wishes for you. It has to be sunny and happy and so, so sorry for everything (even when it’s nobody’s fault). It has to say, I’ll always love you without saying I am still terribly in love with you. It has to be subtle and obvious and endearing and serious and funny. It has to be everything his words can’t be.

He eventually settles on one, tucks it into the yellow envelope and licks it shut. He handwrites your name on it messily, like you could get confused about who it’s for and need a label, or like he has a stack of yellow envelopes for dozens of other people sitting sealed on his kitchen counter. He goes to the florist next, picks out a stock arrangement from the fridge and a package of flower seeds. The final stop on his city tour is your apartment. Three knocks on your door, and then you’re undoing the deadbolt.

“Hi,” you say, confused by his presence on your welcome mat.

“Happy Birthday,” he smiles. “This is the last time I get you dead flowers.”

You and Carlos are thirty at your wedding. He cries when you walk down the aisle and there isn’t a single real flower in your bouquet. It’s all fake, and one of your friends asks if you’re worried it might look tacky or cheap. Anyone who thinks that shouldn’t be at our wedding, you’d told them.

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soothinglee · 2 months ago

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| shitty 808s - kim jongseob x gn! reader - 1.2k wc✔︎

my notes⎯ sorry for not writing in a bit- I got hit by a scooter and lost hearing in my left eye. anyway- enjoy! (ilovejongseobsm). also the reader is younger than jongseob- so they're the maknae! warnings⎯ lowercase intended, cursing, not really proofread, I don't know jackshit about making music- I do make it just for fun but I don't know it on a professional level. songs⎯ "take you there x no bs" | dj short and "trillions" | alicia keys

“dude this sounds like shit.”

“it’s literally only 808s. it’s not going to sound good.”

“tell that to carti.”

jongseob groans and relaxes his body into the creaky studio chair. from where he's at; body slouches and neck bent, he feebly grabs for the mouse, each time he reaches he just barely misses it- giving a pitiful grunt every time.

you slap his hand away playfully, scooting your chair over in his place to play with the track. in the 30 minutes you've been in the studio you only managed the 808s. ass, in your opinion but something to start the song off as a base.

"what are you doing?" he mutters, looking towards the desktop screen. the black background of the software lights up every time you move around tracks. the purple and blue sections reflect off his glasses, "stop pressing stuff, you're gonna mess it up."

a scoff leaves your lips absentmindedly, choosing to replace the pre-made 808s with a original. you play it back for a spilt second- nodding to yourself feeling content in your work.

"you should be thankful I'm helping you," you start, adding a few high hats some measures into the song, "today is my off day and youngji just came out with a new episode."

he rolls his eyes and reaches over to grab his water bottle, he uncaps it and throws the lid on your lap. you make no effort to move it, "you would've had to come in eventually. jiung needed you today to record your verse."

you reach over to twitch your hand infront of his bottle, as if faking him out. he jerks his body away from you quickly, the water shakes in his hand- some even coming from the top and onto his sweater.

"bro." it comes out weak and quiet, a frown forming on his lips but you're quick to talk over him;

"for him, I wouldn't have complained. it's different when I have to do it because it's scheduled then come in to help someone work on his song." you spilt the back ground voices you added from files and slip in theo's guitar solo along with a 4 bar bass drum.

at this point you haven't listened to what has been added, jongseob still hogging the headphones. though you have enough confidence in yourself, and as one of the main producers, to know that the song will be somewhat decent- and way better than whatever he had before.

"what even is your inspo?"

"'bambi', baekhyun."

he makes a face, "sexy, no?"

you shrug, clicking around on the application to add some reverb, "piece will love it, fnc will tolerate it, intak will be happy. what more is there?"

he doesn't respond.

the difference between the software when jongseob had it compared to it in your hands is insane. infront of you the screen decorated with rainbows of colors, the static lines tracking the sound range from lengths and size. it's beautiful.

you feel a heavy weight on your left arm and look down to see jongseob leaning on you, he lets out a tired breath, and reaches up to fiddle with the loose string on your sleeve.

"are you almost done yet? you're hogging my equipment and I have other stuff I need to do."

"is all you do is complain?" you ask, titling the song with a random phrase and saving it, "because if that's the case I'll just get keeho."

his grip on your sleeve tightens as he tenses. for some reason jongseob is afraid of keeho- the latter always picking on him and fighting him. you would ask why and how it started but in all honesty, you couldn't really care.

"no no no, it's okay. you can keep working."

a proud smirk graces your lips as you reach over to slip the headphones off his head. he lets you, reaching forward to give you better access, smiling when he feels your hands pat down the mess they left.

you bend down slightly, apologizing when his head falls from your shoulder, and blindly reach for the tower to unplug the cord from its socket. "alright," you mess with the setting once more, turning the volume up enough so it can be heard. "you ready?"

jongseob yawns, "about time." you smack him upside the head.

the song is only about 3 minutes long, but in that three minutes it sounded wonderful. even though you were on playing around with it, something to keep jongseob satisfied until he could figure out what he really wanted to do with it, you think it could actually be the final product.

as the song plays you would take a look at his face to gauge his opinion. he seemed to like it; bobbing his head with the melody, a soft smile on his lips. it made you feel somewhat better about missing youngjis' show.

"okay, what do you think?" you ask as the beat fades out, you pause it so it doesn't play again and turn your body towards him, knees knocking each other.

he doesn't say anything for a minute, staring at the poster on the wall behind your head. his face is back to neutral. you think about snapping your fingers infront of his face to wake him up.

after a while he takes in a breath and says, “buns, actual buns.”

“you’re only saying that because it’s not jiung working on the song.”

he doesn't say anything but nods in agreement. there's a cheeky smirk on his face. "if that's the case, I'll just delete the song." you move the mouse to press erase before a hand catches you before you do.

"don't." he says, a mild glint in his eye as he pries your fingers from the mouse. he gently places your hand back in your lap while maintaining eye contact, moving the device to his side of the table.

"so it's not 'buns'?" you ask, the smirk back on your face.

he hesitates and then says, "no it's still ass, but why would I delete it just to start over, waste of time."

you laugh and go to answer but your phone vibrating catches you off guard. you use your face to open it to read the message;

멘토르 (mentor) come to floor 4 pls, we're ready for you :)

"uh oh," the chair beneath you slides backward as you stand up to collect your belonging. the bottle cap falls from your lap as you hand jongseob his headphones, "duty calls, i'll be gone for about an hour or two, if you need me, don't. I'll be busy."

he laughs, watching as you put on your shoes. you places a kiss on his head as you retreat for the door. you hear the clicking of a mouse and muffled music from behind you.

as soon as you reach for the door knob a voice calls out. "yeah?"

jongseob, hood pulled back so that you can see the bangs of his brown hair, his glasses that reflect the sparkle in his eyes, and the big smile on his face says, "I know I give you shit but thank you. you saved me a lot of trouble."

you smile back at your elder, a content look matching his own, "hey, anytime."

you close the door and head towards the elevator.

⎯if you want to be apart of my taglist let me know!

→ thank you for reading!

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itadorey · 1 year ago

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☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐕𝐒. 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒

summary: would jjk characters win in a fight against the teletubbies? featuring: fushiguro megumi, itadori yuuji, kugisaki nobara, & gojo satoru genre: humor, hcs wc: ~750 notes: this is a repost

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 ੈ♡˳·˖✶

↬ fuck. no. when have you ever seen this mf win a fight? he gets his shit wrecked every episode. selene, if you’re reading this, i’m sorry but no. not even his shikigami can save him from the terror that is a teletubby. he’s strong, no doubt about that, but he doesn’t stand a chance. you thought todo fucked his shit up? the state he left him in is nothing compared to what the teletubby did. nobara will not let him live it down, and neither will gojo. but can you blame him? teletubbies are tall and low key scarier than the curses he’s faced. he definitely underestimated his opponent, and that was his downfall. the fight was over before it began, and the teletubby had no mercy whatsoever. he cannot look any of the teletubbies in the eyes afterwards. he can't look you in the eye either bc you keep teasing him.

the teletubby he fought: dipsy. he made sure megumi’s losing streak continued. definitely smacked the sorcerer with his hat.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 *·˚ ༘♡

↬ he wins. it’s a pretty steady fight without yuuji using his cursed energy. the teletubby is impressed with his speed and strength and even though the battle drags on, he graciously admits defeat (and no, it’s not bc he’s scared of what the pink-haired boy can really do). they become friends afterwards, because yuuji just has that talent, and they even go out for sushi together and bring you along. megumi is kind of jealous that yuuji was able to win so easily, and he hates the fact that the teletubby giggles every time it sees him bc it knows he lost his fight. yuuji somehow becomes friends with the rest of the teletubbies and honestly, they’re a pretty solid friend group. they don’t think he’s all that strong because he looks so sweet and innocent, but the original teletubby he fought shudders and tells them not to try their luck. he knows yuuji wasn’t at full strength and he fears his true power.

the teletubby he fought: laa-laa. they hit it off pretty well and sometimes sing together.

𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀 ࿐ ˚ . ✦

↬ yes! and it’s probably the funniest fight out of the four. she trash talks her opponent, and she has the ability to understand the teletubby language so she gets offended when it responds in kind. she’s so close to using her hammer and nails to attack, but gojo and megumi hold her back and confiscate her weapons. the teletubby knows just what to say to rile her up. it’s a dirty fight. the teletubby pulls her hair but she’s a bad bitch so she doesn’t flinch. in return, she goes feral, pulls the teletubby’s antenna, and kicks it in the legs. she wins, no doubt. she feels kind of bad afterwards but it’s honestly the teletubby’s fault for starting the fight. whenever they bump into each other (bc remember yuuji is friends with them) a fight always breaks out and you have the teletubby and nobara trash talking as they’re dragged away from each other. not gonna lie, even you and gojo were a little unsettled by her raw anger in the fight.

the teletubby she fought: po. she tried to defend herself with her scooter but nobara broke it :/

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ༊*·˚

↬ yes. he shows absolutely no mercy. gojo may be a cocky, arrogant bastard, but he has proven that he is indeed the most powerful sorcerer to exist. he’s giggling the entire fight, thinking about you and all the sweets that he can buy when he finishes his opponent off. this is the first time the teletubby feels fear, and he finds that he doesn’t stand a chance against the blindfolded man. remember how easily gojo defeated jogo? yeah the teletubby is a bit harder to deal with but it’s a piece of cake. he’s beaten up and exhausted by the end of the fight and gojo? he’s in pristine condition. in fact, he might even look better than he did at the beginning of it. there’s something wrong about beating up a well known children’s show character though, so gojo makes the effort to bring it along on his sweet-shopping adventure. the teletubby is wary of anything gojo gives him and wonders how this now-smiling dumbass is the same sorcerer that beat its ass.

the teletubby he fought: tinky-winky. the oldest and tallest of the teletubbies got utterly wrecked by our smug little shit of a sorcerer.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #nobara x reader #megumi x reader #yuuji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #fushiguro x reader #kugisaki x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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jinkookspencil · 1 year ago

Text

like couples do | knj

you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....

description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3

wc: ~1.6k words

Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.

Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...

Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.

Fuck.

Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.

Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection…

It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.

This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening.

The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.

Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.

You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.

He had to answer.

to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?

to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain

to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember?

to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)

The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.

“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”

“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table.

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.

“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.

“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.

“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.

“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation.

Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”

“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.

“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”

Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.

“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”

Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.

"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.

"Oh, she’s pretty!”

"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."

"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"

"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.

"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”

“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage.

“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….”

“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."

“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.

“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.

“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes.

“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”

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cher-rei · 4 months ago

Text

afterglow pt- 13 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, fluff, slowish?? burn and just a good time

[wc: 5.3k] afterglow masterlist

notes: rahhhhhh!!!

spamjam._.

liked by liverpoolfc and 3 244 225 others

spamjam._. may 24th anyone? [tagged: taylorhinds]

view all comments below

taylorhinds 👀💜 [liked by spamjam._.]

liverpoolfc collab of the century I fear

→ spamjam._. if you know, you know 🤞🏻

user collab?? are they doing a photoshoot together or something?

→ user probably, you know how jamie is and her random promo photoshoots for brands 😭

→ user take back to the adidas shoot last year omw

→ user life was so much easier back then

virgilvandijk oh, so you were serious? 😂

→ spamjam._. I had a 10 hour board meeting yesterday for this. don't test my commitment 🙄

trentarnold66 she's a baller 🥵 [liked by spamjam._.]

harvelliot LET'S GO!! COUNT YOUR DAYS ON THAT PITCH

fía.messi bro has me flying over for this 😭 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. I couldn't get your dad so I had to settle for the next best thing (and mateo is only 10 so I had to choose you 😔)

"what's the date today?"

"the 23rd," laura answered promptly and went back to typing something on her laptop while the rest of your media team carried on with their personal tasks in the meeting room.

you stood at the whiteboard in front— a black marker in one hand and your ipad in the other as you wrote out and marked certain dates down and finalised a few things.

"okay." you tapped the marker on your chin and took a step back from the board, gaining everyone's attention. "those pictures are up for the efl final, but I'm going to need a date for next week for my meeting with the set designers and stylists because I have a few ideas for the launch."

sienna, another member of your media team was quick to check her calender, her email set up on her desktop. "you're good for march 4th if we're set to release the shoot may 7th."

you bit the inside of your cheek as you thought for a moment. "put it down. I'd also like an update on the news for the boss' special collection and," you wrote down something under the title national duty. "I need the flags ordered asap."

the room fell silent after that, everyone in their own headspace while the sound of keyboards clicking sounded through the room. you wanted to make next season's kit release a big one, the board giving you three words to ride off of and the mock design for the kit a few months ago.

you quite liked the tribute to the design and after consulting a few close professionals (sophia and alexandra) there was an idea of what you were going for. the idea of a more sophisticated look and aesthetic ran through your mind, the question of how would you style the jersey yourself playing a role.

"moped," you blurted which got you a few strange looks. "I want a moped for the shoot."

logan, who was silent for most the of the meeting eyed you for a second. "like the scooter?"

"the bike from that one disney movie?" laura followed and pulled up her pinterest page, moving her laptop to show you and you nodded, writing it down under the kit launch column on the board.

"I want it in red and maroon and see if they can get the jersey design on it," you said while tieing up your hair because this was oh so obviously only the beginning of the meeting.

you had been so busy the past few hours, confined between four walls that the only sunlight you were getting was the light emitting from the passage through the simgular glass wall of your meeting room that overlooked the second floor. your phone was probably buzzing with messages from clara asking you when you were free for your lunch break but that was the last of your worries.

but eventually something caught your attention from the corner of your eye as you stood in front of your team, going over some extra details. "the videographers are working on it currently so all we nee--"

you paused mid-sentence, the glimpse of a figure strolling past the room catching your attention for a moment. "uhm, all we need is to check if..."

they walked past again, only this time at a pace that was definitely noticeable. normally you would've disregarded trent's childish behaviour in the middle of work but everyone was growing agitated and needed a break.

you flicked your attention from your team to trent who was strolling along with his hands in his pockets, only to come back a second time, then a third until your team gradually noticed him. your lips drew into a thin line as he sent them a small wave, pretending to be busy.

"okay, everyone we can take a break." you set the markers down, their thankful sighs of relied making you laugh. "I'll see you in 45, okay?"

the seven of your team members flooded out the door in no time, leaving you alone while trent waited until they were out of sight to finally enter the room. he walked up you the whiteboard beside you, trying to act as if he knew what any of the writing meant while you continued to joy a few things down.

"don't try anything, the walls are literally made of glass," you said unbothered without taking your attention off of the work in front of you.

from beside you trent mocked an expression of hurt, offended that you'd accuse him of coming here just to do something. "I wasn't going to. I came here because I just happened to be walking by after our gym session," he answered, the lie dripping off his tongue effortlessly and you gave him a look.

you didn't respond, instead becoming immersed in your work once again. the marker in your hand moved between the spaces of your fingers, a pout forming on your lips as you concentrated.

don't get him wrong, trent found it extremely attractive that you were in your element— your hair messily tied up, the marker in your hand spinning between your fingers and the look of determination on your face made him crazy. but he was just a man after all and wanted to spend some time with his... free trial user.

with a sigh he sat down at the desk, spinning aimlessly on the chair to try and cure his boredom. he hated this— referring to the lack of privacy in the room because the blinds were open. suddenly, he perked up at the sound of your voice, but to his dismay, you weren't talking to him and were on the phone with someone he didn't care about.

"yes, I'd like to keep them neutral but you can have a selection and we can test them out on the day of the shoot," you said and hurried back to the whiteboard to write something down.

the sound of the marker squeaking on the board made trent cringe, that and he wished that you'd just sit down for one second. when the call ended, you felt the his eyes on you, a look of judgement perhaps? but what did he expect? you were at work and had to get things done.

"someone's cranky," you joked while flipping through a binder.

he threw his head back with a scoff. "well yeah, you're not even looking at me. you probably don't even care that I'm here right now."

really now? you rolled your eyes at his exaggeration, a smile dancing on your lips. "a lot needs to be done before the end of the month unfortunately and I'm kind of in charge of that." you scrunched your nose at the last part, the feeling of admitting that you were in charge sending a weird surge through your body.

tent pursed his lips, his look softening at the way you continued to flip through the binder, mumbling to yourself about not finding something. "I know but--"

"--there aren't any 'buts'." you put your hands on your hips, sending him a stern look to showcase your point. "you're supposed to be focusing on recovering. it's already an issue that you won't be playing sunday, we need you fit for the last few games of the season at least."

the room fell silent again, slight tension building up but you didn't care because it was the truth. it wasn't just him— it was curtis, darwin, mo and dominik as well. a few of their most crucial players were injured and unfortunately that make their chances of winning slimmer. and as excited as everyone was to play on sunday— the kids included even if they only got about five minutes of playtime, but this was still a final.

the coaching staff was agitated, virgil didn't know how if the chelsea squad were going to put up a fight and the injured players were beating themselves up. it wasn't an easy time for anyone right now, but they needed to focus. and right now, it seemed that trent wasn't getting the message.

it was unlike him, and you could see from the way that his leg anxiously bounced up and down that he knew that. so as much as you needed to reprimand him and remind him of what needed to be done, you could also tell that he wasn't okay.

with a sigh, you put down your things and went to lock the office door and close the blinds. the room was encapsulated in slight darkness again, prompting you to switch on the overhead lights that weren't needed earlier on.

trent remained quiet though, even when you came to sit down on the table in front of him. you looked down at him, the footballer leaning back in the chair.

"talk to me, what's bothering you?" your voice was laced with genuine worry and it made him ease into his seat further.

"nothing's wrong. I just wanted to see you but I guess it's a bad time." he plainly shrugged his shoulders, a look of mock dismissal on his face.

you quirked an eyebrow at his answer. "that's the worst lie you could've come up with right now." despite your targeted response you gently took his hand into yours and prompted him to speak. "is it because you're benched for the rest of the month?"

"yes and no," he said, looking up at you. "yes because I let the team down when they need all the help they can get. this is important to all of us and ever since my stupid knee happened I've been acting up."

he didn't need to mention it, but he was referring to the match against burnley where he was subbed off at halftime. you knew that it took a toll on his confidence, both on and off the pitch. there wasn't much you could do unfortunately besides comfort him.

"don't look at me like that," he groaned and leant forward to rest his head on your thigh, the embarrassment sinking in. "I sound so emotional, my ego is buried six feet under right now."

you stifled a laugh at his retort and let your hands run gently up and down his back. "it's okay. I'll ask harvey to pick it up for you, it's not a problem for him."

trent couldn't help but laugh, the feeling of his fingers trialing your thigh sent a shiver through your body. the two of you held that position for a bit longer, the feeling of being near each other enough to ease your respective anxiety.

"you're going to get better okay?" you said softly and he hummed in response. "whatever happens, happens but you need to do what you can. that's all that matters, so for now you're going to be the best bench warmer ever and support your team."

it was the day of the efl final and the team was ready— standing ready with their mascots at their sides in the tunnel that you were running through to make some last minute checks.

maya messaged earlier on in the day to say that they'd be at the match today and you couldn't wait to see them again after such a long time, especially alex who was apparently extremely excited to be here.

today more than ever you wore your liverpool jersey proudly only to be called out for wearing it by a familiar face. you just finished wishing the team goodluck when a chelsea player caught your attention in the line beside you.

you eyes rolled at the sound of the voice but you turned to look at him nonetheless, the smile on your lips slightly forced. "colwill."

levi put out his hand for you to take into a friendly handshake, a cheeky smile on his face as he looked you up and down. "It's always weird to see you in anything other than blue. you switching sides for the day?"

the backhanded comment was obviously a joke, it was natural for the two of you to have banter like this despite the fact that it had been years since you last talked to each other. from the line beside you, harvey was shamelessly watching the back and forth.

it made no sense to him that you always knew someone. in every situation and match of theirs, there was always someone that you knew.

you scrunched your nose at levi, not liking the idea of wearing a chelsea jersey. "we'll leave those blue days of mine at the academy thanks. good luck for today though, you're going to need it."

levi stifled a laugh at your goodbye and watched as you left the tunnel, old memories flooding back but never staying.

"academy?" harvey asked out loud, not meaning for levi to hear but he did and nodded. when he told harvey that you played for the chelsea academy before you left london it raised some intrigue amongst the reds on his side.

judging by their facial expressions he could tell that it wasn't something you liked to talk about. "she got called up a bunch of times for the first team but never took the offer. first time around she was 15."

there was no other reaction from harvey other than an irritated groan, his head shaking to the side as they started to make their way out of the tunnel. "she's lived 100 lives I'm telling you."

from behind him, andy hurriedly shushed him, the laugh barely staying inside because of the strange encounter. but harvey was right— it felt like you've lived 100 lives because there was a piece of you everywhere, a piece of you imprinted within the memory of so many people.

"the carter effect," harvey mumbled to himself with slight distaste as he stood in his position on the pitch waiting for the whistle to blow.

agonising. that's how you'd describe the first of the match. it was like a game of tennis— back and forth but the team was showing resilience against chelsea and their 10 man defence strategy. the man to man marking made you want to scream, because this was not the strategy of a team that knew that they were going to win.

"fucking cowards," you muttered under your breath and jayden danns— one of the kids who were newer to the first team bench, gave you a look.

feeling his judgemental gaze on your side you looked at him with widened eyes, gesturing to the pitch. "it's the truth. you can't play football like this, it's disgraceful."

from the seat beside you, bobby clark, another one of the children (as you liked to call them) spoke up and asked you about how long the chelsea squad could play defence. there wasn't a definite answer on your side as you sat with your hand on your chin in thought.

eventually, it had all the kids in thought, all five of the boys that you were looking after watching with determined eyes to see if there was a break in chelsea's defence.

"the only forward who they're expecting to score is palmer," james said and you scoffed, the rest of the bench chiming in to talk about cole palmer's recent performance and how it's been saving chelsea a ton.

spamjam._. added to their story!

amongst the chatter, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. the name that popped up on your notification center made you smile— trent who was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players.

the last few minutes of the first half played out in a way that had your blood boiling. conor who was starting in trent's position today was playing exceptionally well for his first official start for the team, but someone else saw that as a threat apparently.

one shove from ben chilwell on conor had you out of your seat in an instant. the two players managed to fall on top of each other because of conor's honest tackle, and ben chilwell saw it as a challenge for something more.

seconds away from half time and a fight was about to break out and naturally the liverpool players tried to stop it, with a few players feeling provoked (cody and harvey). luckily it was broken up before anyone got seriously hurt, but by then you were already on the touchline alongside jurgen waiting to jump in.

the half-time whistle blew and you watched with distaste as they walked into the tunnel. instead of going up to the press room like you normally would, you decided to take a quick trip into the stands where the injured players were. you were alone today, and for another 4 months because clara was officially on maternity leave.

she was nearly 5 months into her pregnancy, but you still couldn't get behind your stupidity and not noticing any sooner. the signs were blatantly obvious but you thought it was normal— the loose clothing, strange cravings and her mood swings were nothing out of the ordinary.

she was doing well though, and was staying with her parents for the time being or at least until the season was over so that she could go back home with mason. at least she had stability, that's what mattered most.

"nice of you to visit us," curtis sarcastically greeted as you stood on the outside of the barricade. "I see the boys are treating you well."

it was clear that he was mocking you so you flashed him a tight lip smile. what the kids were doing was asking you questions about anything that came to mind— why you decided to work in marketing? was it true that you and trent were dating? (which you denied obviously)? who would win in a fight, a shark or a tiger? and funny enough you recalled jobe asking you the same question a while ago.

"a shark or a tiger?" he asked with a challenging smile.

your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at jude next to you, who shared the same expression of confusion. "well where's the fight happening?" you asked jobe who made it clear that he didn't like the follow up question.

he pulled a face at you, "what do you mean where's the fight?"

his question left you and jude speechless, his older brother trying to prompt his understanding of the situation further but jobe was stubborn and didn't care about the logistics of the scenario.

"it depends on where the fight is," jude said and you nodded. "they live in different environments entirely so it matters."

jobe rolled his eyes at the question, almost as of it were ridiculous. his shoulders tensed up and he leant forward on the chair he was sitting on. "yeah, but who would win the fight, this isn't about the environment."

you stifled a laugh, in further disbelief. "jobe where is the fight? where is it happening?"

"that's not the point!"

you couldn't stay to chat long to trent's dismay. he couldn't even hold your hand and the look of despair on his face said it all. but you agreed on keeping it on the low, no physical contact in public because there were always cameras around.

you flashed him a smile and waved before heading back to the bench just in time. a sigh of exhaustion leaving your lips at the thought of another 45 minutes of back and forth.

it was around the 60' minute when something built up, having you on the edge of your seat and holding your hands together in prayer and desperation until the ball finally hit the back of the net. however your rejoice didn't last long because once again, the referee was checking for offside.

you stood with your hands in the air in shock, utter hatred for the decision alone. "that wasn't offside at all! what the fuck kind of decision is this?"

the rage and irritation in your tone only grew when the referee called it, your scream drowning out in the sea of groans from the supporters. if it wasn't for james then you probably would have gone up to the stewards yourself to complain.

this was nothing new for the team though, and it was evident in their unimpressed expressions as they got back into position again. you carried on complaining for quite a bit after that— if there was one thing that you hated, then it was cheaters and liars. there was no reason to call the goal offside.

not too far away in the stands trent had his attention on you, an amused smile dancing on his lips as you complained to the other players on the bench— exaggerating your movements and explaining further, your blood boiling.

curris noticed him watching and teasingly nudged his arm. "talk about passionate."

he was right, your passion for the sport was never something you tried to minimise or hold back and that was something that trent found extremely attractive. you were always standing along the touchline with your hands on your head in distraught or leaping from your seat when they scored.

this was a first for trent— his past girlfriends who attended his games usually sat in the family booth and watched from afar, possibility not knowing what was actually happening on the pitch. but the idea of having you so close to him on the once place that he felt the most at home made his heart race.

close, both literally and figuratively— you'd be on the touchline, at most of his games because it was your job but also because you shared the passion for the sport and that meant more than anything to him. the fact that he could share what made him whole, with his partner.

"saffie's at home watching peacefully," curtis then shook his head as he watched you talk to conor who was subbed off, probably complaining again. "and this beast is picking a fight with the stewards."

trent stifled a laugh at his retort, stopping himself to try and listen in on what you were telling conor who was nodding along.

"exactly! I would have thrown him to the floor, conor. you're weak my boy." you pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, causing curtis to throw his head back in laughter.

20 minutes and two yellow cards later, the score was still tied at 0-0. the thought of the match falling into added time made you nauseous, because at the rate anything could happen. with a hand on your forehead you sunk further into your seat, all hope lost as the kids put on their jerseys.

"save us. please." your voice was meek and desperate causing the three of them to laugh, watching as the sub board went up. "I believe in you!"

when the final whistle blew for a short break before the added extra time you got up from your seat and paced up and down to loosen the tension in your legs. jurgen was huddled with the team, strategizing but you weren't too sure what he could possible be telling them.

personally you would have told them to break the chelsea players' legs. or at least try and play a bit rougher but there was nothing you could do except sit and watch. the kids were doing well luckily, and you did a headcount oh how many of them were on the pitch.

4. there were 4 first team players on that pitch and the rest were the club's academy kids going up against a full cheslea squad in a cup final. it was jaw dropping to witness this in person.

when jurgen came over for some water you asked him what the strategy was, to which he just shrugged with a smile. "I told them to have fun. just kick the ball until it hits the back of the net."

you blinked up at him for a moment, the answer a surprise to you but it made sense. there was nothing better that could have been done, so instead you started to pray and manifest, begging the universe for a goal or at least an opportunity.

with your lips pursed you looked up to the timer above the pitch, the big 116 mocking the players on the pitch. there was 4 minutes left and chelsea's management decided that it was a good time to make a substitution. obviously it was to waste time, but even then it was a stupid idea.

the players on the pitch were out of breath, virgil had swear dripping down his forehead and a look of complete exhaustion hiding behind his blank stare. what a way to make people suffer.

it wad the last corner of the match probably and tsimikas was up to take it. naturally you got up again seeing as this was probably going to penalties which you were confident enough in.

with hopeless eyes your eyes followed the ball as it crossed into the penalty area where the players were showing each other, trying to make way for a header. the stadium held it's breath, everyone's hope deep in the dirt until virgil managed to get a touch on the ball just enough that it successfully hit the back of the net.

it happened so quickly but the adrenaline eventually kicked in and you were being pulled into a hug from jurgen. on the other end of the pitch, virgil was sprawled on the floor, the boys surrounding him and laying beside him. it was all over once the final whistle blew seconds later and you heard the bustling noise from behind you.

darwin came running down the steps, pushing curtis to the side as he leapt over the barricade and onto the pitch in excitement with the staff. it was all too much, the overwhelming feelings of anxiety and excitement whirling inside of you.

you were left speechless, nothing more to say than. "how the fuck?"

the celebration was nothing short of heartwarming, but the feeling of watching the chelsea players leaving the stadium without saying a word was a better feeling.

"maybe you should actually try and score next time," you said with a teasing smile directed at levi who was heading towards you up the stairs with the rest of his team. "instead of standing as if you were the great wall of china."

all he did was shake his head and gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder as be walked past, before quickly turning back. "I still think you look better in blue though."

you stifled a laugh, not bothering to answer and instead made your way to the pitch where the banner was set up to take a few pictures before they came down to sing the anthem with their proudly adorned medals and trophy.

while they did all that you made a quick run up to stands, eagerly minding your way until maya, noah and alex were in the clear. the excitement on alex's face was enough for you, a proud feeling of warmth spreading through your chest.

"how was it buddy? did you have fun?" you asked and pulled him into a tight hug.

the younger boy nodded happily, going on about how scared he was and how he really wanted ice cream during the match because it was "super intense". when the time came you bid them goodbye and headed back down to take some pictures.

a fond smile formed on your face at the sight of the academy players, the group immediately making their way over to you with their medals and bombarding you with excited comments.

"I can't believe I nearly scored twice," jayden said with widened eyes, still in disbelief as he held up two fingers. "that's more than once and I just got here."

"which means that you better score soon, the season is nearly over." you lightly punched his arm, the group of academy players following you through the crowd of staff on the pitch.

once again james forced a sarcastic laugh, looking to jayden with his eyes narrowed. "well I just got here too and got booked 3 minutes in. I literally breathed."

not long after that, the photographers called all the academy players together for a group photograph and you took a step back and watched. but your attention was promptly caught by trent leisurely strolling beside dominik and mo.

with a smile you waved him over and suggested that he joined the picture since he was an academy graduate as well. he wasn't too sure at first but he eventually cut in.

after a few pictures your eyes squinted. "what's he doing here?" your question was directed at harvey who was seated on the floor, his face melted in irration as you spoke to him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he shot back and you nearly responded but the group dispersed, everyone going their own way as the celebration wrapped up.

naturally, you joined trent in his little stroll but made sure there was enough space between the two of you so no suspicion would be raised.

even though you were talking normally for the most part, it physically pained him that he couldn't even hold your hand. he gap between your bodies made him cringe, and what made it worse was that this was the first time that he's ever felt this needy or desperate to be close to someone.

but as you were talking to him now, the stadium still full of supporters while you stood in the middle of it all, he felt the desperation panging at his chest.

"bro are you seriously zoning out again?" you asked with a sigh. "this is the fourth time today-- and yes I'm counting."

"well sorry." he lifted his hands into the air in defence. "It's not my fault that my heart is in actual pain because I have to treat you like a normal friend in public."

your eyes rolled at his exaggeration, his dramatics being nothing new especially about this topic. "we aren't officially together yet so we can't do anything about it. calm down, loverboy."

normally this would be the part where he'd kiss you so that you'd shut up but trent had to bite his tongue today, and instead just nodded. it was the harsh truth unfortunately and as much as he loved private relationships, he wanted to show you off. he wanted the world to know that you were his.

but for the first time in a while he'd have to be patient.

spamjam._.

liked by judebellingham and 3 223 122 others

spamjam._. my kids dawg!! 🏆❤️ (and those other grandpa's too)

view all comments below

liverpoolfc red suites you so much more 🫶 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. say it louder for the people in the back 👏 @levicolwill

user ??? oh the dramaaaa

user 120 minutes of torture that I refuse to relive

bobbyclark can't believe that I made it onto the profile 😫

→ spamjam._. watch me crop you out.

→ jayden.danns @bobbyclark I'm the one who got the photocreds on her story 🥱 lower your tone in my presence

→ jamesmconnel and I got booked for breathing 😒

→ spamjam._. james that was a clear tackle?? you got booked for a reason 😭

→ jamesmcconnell yeah for breathing!!

virgilvandijk you should've gotten a medal for being the best cheerleader today 🥇[liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. aahhh!! I'm so glad my efforts were noticed

→ curtisjr you were screaming at the refs and nearly barged into the stewards room 🤨

→ spamjam._. which is more than you did today benchboy

mosalah grandpas? 😔

→ spamjam._. your leg is broken, so yes. grandpa's 😔

[next!!] [previous!!]

#cherrei writes #afterglow trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold #footballer imagine #liverpool fc #footballer x reader #football imagine #fanfic #liverpoolfc x reader #liverpo

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i-luvsang · 10 months ago

Text

meet-not-so-cute!au — song mingi

for : 1.5k milestone event ➖⟢ pairing : mingi x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, light angst ➖⟢ cw : sooo not proof read or edited, swearing, falling into water? ➖⟢ wc : 1.7K. enjoy sweet 🎧 anon!

moodboard : meet-not-so-cute!au + s.mg

⟢ falling into a fountain was absolutely not in your to do list for the day

⟢ but here you are, sputtering and desperatedly trying to untangle yourself from the limbs of the stranger who toppled into you and sent the both of you over the edge of the fountain and into the shallow water

⟢ you saw it coming, but not nearly soon enough to do anything about it

⟢ you had glanced up from your phone as you sat on the fountain’s ledge, a natural reaction to some person’s distant shout from somewhere across the square

⟢ but your gaze stayed up, caught on the handsome face of a tall man about to walk past you

⟢ only then did the reason for the shout come to your attention as a recklessly driven motor scooter speeds onto the side walk right in front of you

⟢ it seems that, in the same moment, the handsome stranger notices too, his surprised expression likely matching your own

⟢ he swerves just in time, remaining unharmed by the motor scooter until he trips in his rush to get away

⟢ and unlike the slow motion scenes in movies and dramas, it happens so quickly that you barely register him falling on top of you before you’re crashing backwards into the water

⟢ the only thing spared is your phone, as it goes flying out of your hand and clattering to the ground

⟢ you let out a yelp as you fall, but unlike you, your handsome stranger seems to have had enough time to react, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and using the other to break the fall

⟢ hitting the bottom of the fountain hurts, but not too much considering the short fall and the man’s efforts to lessen your impact

⟢ it’s beyond a huge mess, with water splashing into your mouth and the side of your face squished into this stranger’s chest as your clothes become soaked by the water

⟢ he rolls off of you, not without difficulty, and you sit up, spitting water out of your mouth and grimacing hard as you wipe at your face

⟢ you look yourself up and down, then turn your gaze to the man who is noticeably still very handsome when he’s a mess

⟢ you find some comfort in knowing he looks just about as pathetic as you and fight the sudden urge to burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all

⟢ the man’s on his feet before you, standing over you and holding out a wet hand, apologies tumbling out of his mouth

⟢ you gladly accept his help, face heating up when you forget to let go of his hand for a full few seconds after you’re securely on your feet

⟢ “thank you,” you smile awkwardly before telling him not to be sorry

⟢ “it’s not your fault some maniac who can drive for the life of themselves decided to go out and wreak havoc on the town for fun.”

⟢ “that’s true,” he responds, a smile breaking out on his face

⟢ with that blow to your heart, it takes you several moments to remember that you’re still standing in the water

⟢ you clear your throat, once again feeling the weight of your awkwardness before climbing out of the fountain, him close behind you

⟢ picking up your phone from the ground, you’re glad to find the screen still intact and almost move to put it in your pocket

⟢ “jesus,” you mumble, half laughing as you say it

⟢ when you stand up, the man is just standing there, an unsure, lopsided smile plastered on his pretty face as a puddle of water forms at his feet

⟢ “are you okay,” he asks

⟢ you let out another little laugh, this time because you find it sweet of him to ask

⟢ “yeah, i’m alright, mostly thanks to you,” you assure. “but are you okay? trying to break our fall can’t have been comfortable.”

⟢ you try not to think about how it felt to be pressed against his body like that

⟢ his own laugh is a bit of a good natured scoff as he rolls his wrist a few times

⟢ “i’m all good,” he smiles, “might be sore for a day or two, but it’s not bad at all. and again, i’m so sorry about this whole thing. is there anything i can do to help you, buy you a change of clothes or anything like that?”

⟢ “oh, no no! that’s alright, i appreciate the offer, though, really. my apartment’s not too far, so i’ll just change there.”

⟢ he nods in understanding. “i just hope i don’t make you late to anything,” he goes on, and you love the way his voice is so earnest

⟢ “no, not at all! luckily i’m not busy, i hope you weren’t though.”

⟢ “i’m lucky there, too.”

⟢ he digs his toe into the ground, and you find it cute until you realize you’ve just been standing there looking at each other

⟢ then, you break, suddenly bursting into laughter

⟢ “god, this is ridiculous,” you say, voice almost shaky through the laughter that honestly could turn into tears

⟢ “jeez,” you mutter, before apologizing for your outburst. “i don’t want to keep you from getting yourself dry and all that,” you empathize as the discomfort and annoyance start to settle in

⟢ “right,” he responds, but doesn’t move

⟢ so you take the initiative and give him a final awkward smile and wave, “well, i’m off. have as good a day as you can after this!”

⟢ you turn and several steps away, begin to wish you asked for his number, no matter how weird that would be in this situation

⟢ you glance back, assuming you’d be lucky if you managed to catch a glimpse of his back headed away from you

⟢ instead, you make eye contact with him as he heads in the same direction, some meters away from you

⟢ then, your annoyance grows

⟢ you’re wet, walking through the streets looking like a complete mess, starting to get cold because of the breeze brushing past you, and the guy you thought was cute is a potential creep following you home

⟢ you regret telling him your apartment’s nearby for the sake of easing his guilt and pick up your pace

⟢ when you glance back, he’s still there, though he’s farther away this time due to your quickened steps

⟢ you think maybe he could just be headed in the same general direction, but when he takes all the same turns as you, you decide to confront him, however stupid that decision may be

⟢ you turn the last corner to your apartment, making sure there’s people in the area and waiting to see if he’ll show up

⟢ when a minute or so later, he rounds that corner, your anger seems to catch fire

⟢ before he can react, you storm up to him, voice harsh

⟢ “what the hell is wrong with you?” you question

⟢ he looks genuinely confused, but you go on before he can get in a word

⟢ “are you seriously following me home after knocking me into a fucking fountain and acting all nice about it?”

⟢ “i– no, oh my god, that’s not what–”

⟢ “don’t act dumb, am i seriously supposed to believe you just happen to be headed to the exact place as me? you were literally headed in the opposite direction before we fell.”

⟢ he rushes to explain himself, and you’re almost disgusted by how genuine the sorry look on his face seems

⟢ “please, i am so, so sorry. i should have waited before heading home when i saw you headed in the same direction. you’re so right that this looks totally creepy, but i promise, i live in that apartment just right there.”

⟢ you turn your head to see where he’s pointing and scoff

⟢ “you live in my apartment,” you deadpan. “how’d you know that’s the one i live in? have you been stalking me? nevermind, don’t answer, just get out of here before i call the police.”

⟢ you back away as you begin to grow more afraid than angry

⟢ “no, i swear,” he practically begs as he fumbles for words. “i had no idea you live there, but i promise, i live on the fourth floor with my friend yunho and i swear i haven’t seen you before today. but i totally will get lost right now, i just don’t want to scare you if we run into each other in the apartment.”

⟢ that’s when total embarrassment hits you, and you wish you could go hide under a rock for all eternity

⟢ “you– you’re mingi?” your voice is suddenly quiet as you ask the question

⟢ “i– yeah?” now his face has gone back to complete confusion as your demeanor completely changes and you somehow now know his name

⟢ “fuck. i’m so sorry. i, um. i’ve met yunho a few times, that’s– that’s how i know your name, and jeez, i am so so sorry for flipping out on you like that.”

⟢ to say that you’re horrified is an understatement

⟢ “no! no, don’t be sorry, i 100% agree that i looked like a huge creep just now.”

⟢ you let out a hefty sigh and you’re back to wanting to burst out into laughter for some sort of emotional release in reaction to everything

⟢ and when you make eye contact with him again, he breaks out into stupid grin, and there’s no way for you to hold back

⟢ you both stand there, laughing at maybe nothing, clothes still dripping occasionally

⟢ “we should head inside,” you grin once you pull yourself together a bit

⟢ “definitely,” he laughs

⟢ you part ways in the stairwell when you reach the second floor

⟢ “so, uh– does it make me a real creep if i ask for your name and number?”

⟢ you grin at him when he asks, hoping it doesn’t show that you’re completely flustered

⟢ “definitely not. never thought i’d be glad to fall into a fountain, but here we are.”

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hyukassubi · 4 months ago

Text

🍪 02 | Of Roses And Cookies

♡𓂃 Pairing -> (Former) Knight! Huening Kai x Seamstress! Reader

♡𓂃 Synopsis -> Growing up, you never believed in purpose, nor destiny. Simply following the path of life, becoming a royal seamstress didn't at all seem like a bad idea. Only thing is, it wasn't your idea.

Your best friend who just so happens to be the crowned prince knows what it's like to grow up having limited choices, and Prince Kang Taehyun doesn't want the same happening to you. The commander knight, in turn, has other plans for the future. After Huening Kai closes a profound chapter of his life, he seeks refuge from the chaos of his past, opting for a cozier lifestyle instead.

... And it just so seems that those plans wouldn't be fulfilled without you.

♡𓂃 Wc -> 628

Tabby hands, scrappy clothes, Mary Janes strapped to your feet where ever you go.

Unlike Taehyun, just like Hueningkai, you did not grow up with a royal background.

Two high school sweethearts that started off as a fling had an accident, that accident being you. Your parents didn’t give up in raising their happy little accident, though. Sure, marriage wasn’t a privilege they had until way later, but you had a great time staying over at your mother’s bakery and your father’s florist nonetheless.

You always did.

The kids at preschool kept talking about the way you smelled.

How, every day, you’d be smelling of sugar and frosting, chamomile and roses, cookies and flowers. Seatmates betting on whether or not that girl will come in smelling like chocolate today, or perhaps pistachio, but then they get it all wrong and the room starts fuming of a lavender haze.

The attention was nice until you begin to notice how talk was all talk and no one really talked with you.

Except for one person— Kang Taehyun.

Boba-eyed, impressively pearly white grin, the face of a baby pumpkin, three year old Kang Taehyun was too adorable to be real.

The baby prince who, to everyone’s surprise, landed in a montessori preschool for toddlers who can barely spell their names instead of a high class Royal Academy for Babies. A small boy like him hadn’t yet any responsibilities bared upon him, anyway. There was absolutely no need to learn basic etiquette nor book-balancing on the top of your head at four years of age. And so, lucky was Taehyun for eating mud in playgrounds and zooming past the teachers in scooters when he should be tucked in a pillowed-up rectangular cribs for naptime.

For now, he was surrounded by village toddlers his age with sacked diapers and snot all over their faces. So, yes, perhaps the girl in the corner of the room dressing up chewed up barbies was a refreshener.

Taehyun whiffs the air, nose pointing to the ceiling, nostrils flared like volcano craters. “You smell nice.”

She looked at him for a second, and then went back to putting paper eyelashes on dolls in skirts and clay blobs for shoes.

Taehyun tilted his squishy-cheeked pumpkin head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in adorable concern. “Do you talk?”

No response.

“Don’t be shy, I think you should talk more. To me.”

You sat quietly for a moment, and… snuck a cookie out of the pockets of your denim overalls.

You split the huge chocolate covered goodness into two uneven excuses of semi-circles.

You gave the bigger piece to the baby prince.

You had always liked keeping the bigger piece to yourself.

The baby prince looked at the cookie, and then you, and then his relatively clean toddler hands, and then back at the cookie.

He grabbed it.

He never left your side since.

You thought you had to get on your knees and bow too after dismounting the carriage to meet the King and Queen at the corridor of the Grand Palace like your parents did.

And then Taehyun said, “It’s okay, a ‘Hello’ is enough for us. And no need to call me ‘Little Crowned Prince Kang’. ‘Taehyun’ is what I go by.” ‘Taehyun’ is enough.”

“What he said.” The King patted his son on the shoulder.

He must’ve been proud.

Your parents did not move.

You had no idea who you were, or what you want or could’ve been besides being the daughter of a florist and baker and the walking aroma therapy in your kindergarten, but you knew the prince had a warm heart and his actions might’ve left you feeling touched.

“Okay.” You replied. “Hello, Taehyun.”

The little prince smiled, and happiness never left him since.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

♡𓂃A/n: My personal favourite line: baby Taehyun sniffing the air and his nostrils puffing up like volcano craters.

What the little toddler reader saw that day:

FJKHKAUJJEHFOAI I cannot wait for you guys to devour the following baby reader chapters because they're sooooo cute

♡𓂃Tags: @sweetheartsaku @imcringebutimfree @i-like-to-read-at-4am @pengningie @marloree @stormy1408 @blossommi

Reblog & review if you like my work !!

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asapjens · 10 months ago

Text

NEW JEANS WITH A SWIFTIE S/O + NEW JEANS AS SWIFTIES I

WARNINGS; PART 1 new jeans x swiftie!reader, minji x fem! reader, hanni x fem reader, mentions of Taylor Swift, pet names, the girls having a crush on you, fluff, cringe, english is not my first language, i love you taylor

KIM MINJI WC: 295

Before you, Minji used to only listen to some of Taylor’s songs- the big hits and a few here and there between albums.

But the moment she found out that you were a Swiftie, she started learning some facts about Taylor and her music and listened to Taylor's discography, asking you for some song recommendations.

She would give you flirty compliments, mentioning how she thinks of you when she hears songs like "Lover," "Gorgeous," and "Sparks Fly" – you know, the whole playlist.

Minji showed up unexpectedly at your house with your favorite snacks and a teddy bear wearing a blouse that said "I LOVE TS." She asked if you would like to watch "Miss Americana."

This became a thing for the two of you. After watching Taylor's documentary, you decided to surprise Minji at her dorm with some flowers that you bought for her at the market.

When you knocked on the dorm door, a very sleepy Minji opened it. She was in her pajamas, her hair a little bit messy, and she was holding her phone. She looked incredibly cute.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you laughed at the pretty girl in front of you. When Minji yawned, she gasped upon seeing her crush at her door. Minji blushed and just smiled at you. "What... what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to fix her hair.

"Do you want me to leave?" you said, faking sadness in your voice and pretending to turn around. "No!" Minji quickly said as she grabbed your arm. "I'm just surprised you're here, surprised but happy," she smiled.

You laughed at her. "Well, I came here so we could watch the Reputation Stadium Tour. Since you surprised me last time with Miss Americana, I thought it was only fair for me to come here."

Minji blushed. She had already watched the Reputation Stadium Tour and the Folklore sessions so that she could learn more about Taylor for you.

"I would love to," she said. "Why don't you wait for me on the sofa while I make us some popcorn?" Minji offered.

You have liked Minji for some time now. You loved her smile, her hugs, and how she never made you feel silly about the things you liked. You loved how she would encourage you to keep talking about the things you enjoy.

"So that's why Taylor is re-recording her first six albums," Minji asked you what was your favorite song on ‘Fearless’ but somehow, the conversation ended up with you giving her a full biography of Taylor.

You looked down at Minji, and she was looking at you with full attention, her puppy eyes wide, and her mouth slightly open.

"I'm sorry," you said, turning away in embarrassment. "Why?" Minji said, sounding worried. "I... I know that I talk a lot, and you don't have to listen. I just thought you would want to know since you ask so many things about Taylor. But I understand if you're tired of listening to me-"

"What? No! I love it when you talk about things you like! You look so cute when you're focused on something," your friend Minji said.

You blushed at her words. "Really? You don't mind?" you asked shyly. Minji nodded with a big smile.

"Positive," she said, kissing your cheek. "And let me tell you this, Scooter Braun is such a bitch!" You laughed at Minji's curse.

Minji would ask you to be her girlfriend in a romantic Swiftie way. She would search for inspiration online and ask her friends for help decorating the place.

The moment you entered Minji's dorm, pink and golden confetti fell to the ground. You could hear Minji's bandmates screaming and giggling, and when you looked up, you found Minji holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers while "Mine" by Taylor Swift started playing in the background.

You guys song: Mine and How you get the girl.

HANNI PHAM WC: 343

BIG SWIFTIE

You knew Hanni, but you guys weren't close. She took a few of your classes, but you never really talked.

Sometimes she said hi to you, and sometimes you said hi to her. You guys smiled when you saw each other and those things.

Until one day, Hanni was running late to class and she bumped into you. "I'm sorry!" Hanni said, kneeling to help you pick up the things she accidentally made you drop.

There were some drawings, your notes, a pencil case, and some notebooks. While she was helping you, she saw a drawing.

She would recognize those blue orbit eyes and that blonde hair anywhere! It was a detailed and awesome Taylor Swift drawing!

"It's not your fault. I wasn't looking either," you said shyly to the black-haired girl kneeling to help you.

"Mhm, here," said Hanni, passing you the pretty drawing. You blushed at the picture. You never showed your drawings to anyone, so you were kind of embarrassed.

"Really pretty, lovely drawing," Hanni said with a smile. You took the drawing softly and got up in a swift movement, murmuring a "Bye" and walking in the opposite direction.

Hanni couldn't help but notice the friendship bracelet you were wearing.

It was a pretty pink one that said "The Archer." The bracelet had some details of Taylor's songs, and Hanni thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Now that she knew that there was another Swiftie among us, she started to pay more attention to you.

She noticed the pins on your backpack that were all Taylor's albums. She also noticed how your phone case was full of Taylor-related stickers, and she once saw you with the folklore cardigan!

Hanni was excited but didn't know how to get close to you.

So one day, she made a plan. It all started when she heard that a local park was projecting The Reputation Stadium Tour! The odds were in her favor.

She was going to invite you! She would buy some snacks and she would bring her Lover-themed towel so you guys could sit on the floor. She was going to tell you to wear the Cardigan since she had the red one! That way you guys could match.

Hanni took a few breaths before walking towards your table. It was lunchtime, so she thought it was the perfect time.

"Hi! Yn, I'm Hanni. I take French and history with you," she introduced herself first, but she knew you knew who she was. It was for politeness.

You looked up from your phone, and Hanni could see Taylor as your wallpaper. She almost giggled about it since she had the same picture as her lock screen.

"Oh, Hi Hanni" you knew who she was. Hanni laughed and prepared to say the words.

"I was thinking if you wanted to go and see a movie with me," she said, her big smile widening even more when the words left her mouth.

You blushed and opened your eyes even wider if that was possible. Hanni, your halfway crush, was inviting you to hang out with her! "I-I'd love to," Hanni felt a weight off her shoulders at your answer.

"They're playing one of my favorites in this park," she gave you the directions to the park, and you wrote them down.

"It's next Friday at 6 pm. I can come and get you, and we'll walk together if you like," Hanni said. You nodded shyly.

"What movie are they playing?" you said, making eye contact with the short girl.

"Reputation Stadium Tour," you almost fell from your seat.

"Really?!" you asked excitedly. Hanni smiled at you. "Yes! I thought you would like it!"

"I love it. Thank you for inviting me, Hanni," you said, wanting to hug Hanni out of excitement.

“I should be the one who's thanking you since accepted to go on a date with me”

You blushed at Hanni’s words. A date? You couldn't believe your ears, Hanni Pham just invited you on a date!

“Is going to be the best date ever” you said smiling at her. “Mhm, I’ll text you my address, give me your number,” You said handing your phone to Hanni.

Your hands touched Hanni’s and you felt a sparkle through the action. “I love your bracelet,” said Hanni while adding her number to your contact list.

“Do you want to exchange it?” you ask as you notice her wrist decorated with a blue friendship bracelet.

Hanni wanted to scream with excitement.

You guys song: King of My Heart and Holy ground

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unremarkablehouse · 4 months ago

Text

"If I were that Stoned..." Ch 1

Mature | MSR | S1 | WC 2,424 | AO3 | Ch 1/2

Summary: based on the prompt “Following the end of the “Deep throat” episode, Scully finally answers Mulder’s question ‘If you were that stoned what?’l

Notes: cleaning up my Master Fic list and posting stories from exchanges on my Tumblr.

Tagging: @today-in-fic

His head lolled on the passenger headrest as they drove in silence, oblivious to the shards of glass on the seat and the broken window. Disoriented and struggling to find his bearings Mulder ran through the last few days in his mind until he hit the blank spots. It was as if a word was caught on the tip of his tongue, and try as he might he just could not conjure it up the missing memories. As they passed the street the Budahas’ lived on Mulder suddenly became very animated and insisted they stop and check on them. Certain that if someone knew what the Base did to his memories, it was Colonel Buddahas. Their arrival to the house was met with a cold dismissal from Mrs Buddahas and Mulder’s indignation was enough to make Scully snap, her own sense of discombobulation from the turmoil of the last day catching up on her.

Taking control of the situation, Scully made it very clear that she would not be indulging Mulder anymore, and for the first time he realized just how mad she actually was. Dutifully, Mulder got back into the vehicle, becoming more cognizant of his surroundings as they drove off. The road towards the Base fence was ingrained in his consciousness but he didn’t dare question Scully as she pulled to a stop near the damaged fence instead of their motel. Wordlessly, Scully placed a gun in the car's glove box and locked it, Mulder’s concern grew wondering how she got her hands on the gun and the car.

“Mulder, hand me the car keys.”

It took a moment for him to comprehend her instructions, but he found the keys to the rental in his pants pocket and dropped them in her waiting hand.

“Mulder, I want you to get out of the car and wait for me at our rental, and God help you if you go near that fence.”

Not wanting to test her, Mulder quickly complied and made his way over to the rental car he had abandoned earlier.

Struggling to piece together these tidbits of information, Mulder felt a swell of remorse at the memory of stranding her at the hotel. As he walked to the passenger side door he spotted a tuft of ginger hair resting against it. The stoner kid had been waiting for him, his trusty moped ready nearby. Mulder gently nudged the teen’s shoulder to wake him, and was greeted with a big relieved smile.

“Mulder! Dude, we were worried about you.”

“I’m alright-”

The teenager eyed Mulder’s bedraggled state carefully, both of them aware that the ordeal he had endured was not something that could easily be brushed off. The slam of a car trunk got the teenagers attention, on high alert for danger like a spooked squirrel, still tense when he realized the noise was made by Agent Scully.

In a hushed tone the teen whispered to Mulder, “man, you should have seen your Partner, she went all Rambo on this Suit. Stole his car and held him at gunpoint just to find you.”

“What?”

Mulder looked over to his petite Partner standing by the strange car and started putting the pieces together.

“Dude, you don’t want to piss her off, she’s a badass.”

Scully’s footsteps approaching in their direction was enough to hurry the teen along, obviously intimidated by her. Mulder gave a bemused grin as the kid took off on his scooter, shouting “bye!” in an obvious attempt to avoid Scully.

“What was that about?” Scully asked as she opened the driver's door and let Mulder into the passenger side.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Scully wasn’t thrilled by that response but was focused on moving and quickly got the car on the road. Mulder noticed smoke coming out of the car that they had just vacated, suddenly it was engulfed in flames as they sped past in their rental.

“Scully, what the hell did you do!?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Scully replied in an ascorbic tone, not bothering to turn her head to even glance at the car she just torched.

Mulder was sure he was having some sort of psychotic break. His goodie two shoes FBI partner just stole a car, held a man at gunpoint, saved his ass, torched the car and didn’t even break a sweat. Who the hell was this woman!?

Making quick work of driving back to their motel, Scully ordered Mulder to stay in the car while she grabbed their things. Mulder felt a sting as she made sure to take the car keys with her; it was clear that Scully no longer trusted him. He wanted to make a crack about leaving the radio on for him but he could see she was in no mood for his glib jokes and he was fresh out of righteous indignation to justify his behavior. Mulder had fucked up big time. He had screwed over his new partner- who just proved to be a trustworthy ally, and all it got him was fragmented memories. Not to mention the Air Force would probably come gunning for him. And her. As he realized his actions could very well have cost Agent Scully her job too he felt sick with regret. He made a mental note to contact Deep Throat and the Senator when they got back, vowing to do anything and everything to protect her job. Just as Mulder was about to bury himself in a hole of self hatred, Scully opened the car door abruptly and handed him a bottle of water and two aspirin.

“Take these,” she instructed, Mulder quickly obeyed while Scully ran her fingers through his hair looking for signs of trauma.

“Do you have any dizziness or nausea?”

“A little nauseous and my head hurts, but I’m ok.”

Scully’s concern for his well-being was touching and definitely more than he deserved.

They drove in a weighted silence, Mulder resting with his eyes closed again and trying to summon the right words to say to her.

“Scully, I’m sorry. I never should have taken off on you like that.”

“It was stupid Mulder, you could have gotten killed or God knows what. I was worried about you.”

“You’re right, but also thank you for what you did back there, getting me off the Base.”

“You don’t have to thank me Mulder, I’m your Partner, but you need to decide to trust me or this is never going to work. Not that it really matters now, this is probably our last case.”

“I’ll make sure that it’s not, but trust goes both ways. I know I screwed up but I think we could be a really great team, if you still wanted to work with me.”

With his earnest tone and his sad puppy dog expression, Scully was powerless over her smile.

“Good to hear Partner. We’ve got 4 hours until we hit Sioux City, why don’t you try and get some rest.”

“Okay, Doc.”

Sioux City, Iowa

He found her in the hotel bar, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her legs swinging from the chair with two empty shot glasses in front of her sipping on a coke. Scully didn’t look old enough to be drinking at a bar, but you could never take this woman at face value he mused.

“Hey Lady, can I buy you a drink?”

Scully twirled around on her stool and her face lit up when she saw him. Her brilliant smile affected him, stealing his breath for a moment.

“Shot of whiskey,” she answered and Mulder motioned at the bartender to prepare two shots which were unceremoniously placed in front of them. Mulder clinked shot glasses with her but before he could drink Scully grabbed his wrist, “Mulder, wait. You shouldn’t be drinking, you were showing signs of delirium that could have been brought on by any number of drugs.”

Mulder was amused by her constant consideration, “I’m feeling a lot better now, no more nausea. Maybe they fixed that loose screw?”

“Okay, you can have one,” Scully agreed warily and resumed her post clinking shot glasses with him. They didn’t break eye contact as they drank, issuing a challenge to one another. The air was charged and Mulder found it incredibly sexy that Scully downed her shot in one smooth motion, not making any facial reactions. Mulder tried to suppress his wince, but the liquor burnt all the way down and then left a painful residue in his mouth. He grabbed for Scully’s coke and took a hefty swing to get rid of the taste. To his surprise, and relief, it was just coke and it instantly soothed the burning.

“You okay Mulder?” Scully was affectionately amused by his less than suave drinking abilities.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” Mulder admitted with a sheepish grin that earned him a gentle reassuring arm squeeze from Scully. Mulder’s body was filled with a warm sensation and he wondered whether he was intoxicated from the whiskey or from his Partner. He was willing to bet the latter.

“Come on Scully, I ordered a pizza, let’s eat.”

Mulder motioned to the bartender for the bill and closed out Scully’s tab, before she could complain he gave her a look and silently gestured that he owed her.

Grabbing his arm with both her hands Scully pulled herself down from the stool and allowed him to guide her to his room.

“Take me to your pizza-“ Scully commanded in her best Alien impersonation that made them both chuckle. Yup, Mulder was definitely drunk off of Scully.

The playful mood continued as they bantered and teased each other while sharing dinner in Mulder’s hotel room. Like magnets, they couldn’t seem to stop touching each other with gentle nudges and bumps, sitting closer than needed in order to maintain some form of contact.

Mulder’s eyes betrayed the intelligence of his mind as his brain tried to formulate a question. With a steady look, Mulder’s tone turned serious.

“Scully, the Stoner kid said you held a guy hostage and demanded he take me to you.”

“Mulder, with the amount of drugs he’d consumed he’s hardly credible witnesses,” Scully responded with a smug grin.

“Ok, but why did you torch the Base guy’s car? They obviously know you’re the one who took it?”

“They stole our guns, cut off our phones and did God knows what with you. I was pissed.”

Unable to suppress his laughter, Mulder was filled with sheer wonderment.

“Remind me not to piss you off!”

“Ditch me again Mulder and see what happens,” Scully said as she playfully bumped his shoulder.

“So let’s circle back to what you’d do if you were that stoned?” Mulder nudged Scully back trying to steer the conversation back into safer territory.

“I don’t think you could handle it, Mulder. What about you, have you been that high?”

“I smoked a little weed in college, but not much because it made me paranoid.”

“You, paranoid?!”

“Shocking, I know. But this one time I was in Amsterdam with an ex-girlfriend and I ate what I thought was a blueberry muffin from a cafe before we were meant to do a tour of the city. It turns out that it was Space cake, needless to say I missed the tour. My ex found me outside the cafe 3 hours later. Apparently, I had spent the whole time trying to cross the road to meet up with the group but I kept missing the light at the crosswalk.”

“Why didn’t your girlfriend go back for you sooner?”

“Scully, in my experience, I’m not the guy people go back for.”

The look between them was rich as they silently pledged their loyalty to one another.

“So what about you Scully?”

“No, I’ve never eaten Space cake in Amsterdam. I just smoked a little in college and Med school. One thing I miss-“ Scully stopped herself and cut the story off with a never mind. Mulder was instantly intrigued and he had to know what she was about to say.

“It was nothing. It’s just, have you ever had sex while stoned?”

Mulder shook his head, excited to see where this conversation was going. Scully had his undivided attention and she decided to draw it out for him.

“You know it’s an experience. The whole world reduces to just you and your partner. All that exists is the sensation of them touching you and release. Everything is heightened, it can be intense.”

Mulder’s heart was in his throat and his whole body was frozen, just when he thought he knew this woman she flipped the script on him again.

“Alright Mulder, I’ve rendered you speechless. My work here is done, I’m going to bed.”

“Wait... We could watch a movie… they’ve got Showtime-“

Mulder internally cringed at how lame that sounded but was delighted when Scully looked interested.

“Alright Mulder, let me just change into my pajamas and we can watch a movie.”

Mulder quickly attempted to clean up while Scully disappeared into her adjoining room. Brushing his teeth Mulder retrieved his worn pajama pants and Knicks T-shirt, wanting to make sure Scully didn’t feel underdressed when she returned. Scully’s blue satin pajamas were a far cry from the frumpy flannel pants and baggy sweatshirts she wore on their first case. Mulder didn’t know what elicited the change, but he liked it.

“Are these new?” Mulder asked, running his fingers over the soft satin sleeve.

“Yeah, they were a gift from my sister actually.”

“So soft. I like them!” Mulder declared with a boyish grin that made Scully laugh in a way that was not entirely platonic.

“Come on, let's watch a movie, but no aliens or horror.”

They settled on an old Humphrey Bogart movie, both of them fans of Film Noir. It was not long into the movie that Scully stopped quipping with him, and Mulder looked down to discover she’d fallen asleep. In her sleep, her hand reached out and grabbed his, and his heart constricted at the sight of her tiny hand clutching his while she slept. Mulder wasn’t sure whether he should wake her, but carefully adjusted himself so he could comfortably lie down next to her with their hands joined.

He woke up to darkness, it was early morning and she was gone. The spare hotel blanket had been placed over him and she’d turned the tv off. Mulder smiled as he attempted to go back to sleep, his new Partner definitely was a badass.

#txf #the x files #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #txf fanfic #xfiles fanfiction #x files fanfic

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doimaru · 1 year ago

Text

LIKE WE JUST MET (p.js)

apart of a collection ⤳ ISTJ masterlist pairing: first love!jisung x reader genre: fluff wc: 2.5k synopsis: Coming back to South Korea after so many years, you hope that things hadn't changed much. But, how much many things can stay the same? And how many people can really wait for you after 6 years? note: i was also using broken melodies as inspiration if u squint since i couldn't decide between the two at first... and yes it's cringe and corny but it was the only way i could make the idea work!!! This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

You exhaled a sigh of relief as you stepped into your parents’ car. It had been years since you’ve been in Seoul, yet everything seemed the exact same as you had left it. The airport was still busy as you remembered, and your parents' car still smelled just like lemons. Your little brother smiles cheekily at you before squealing, “How does it feel to be home, sis? I can’t wait to tell you everything you missed!” and you swear you would have cried just hearing his voice. It was different than it was 7 years ago now that he went through puberty. It wasn’t just that he went through puberty, but that you were finally hearing it in real life and not over a phone or facetime call. “It feels the same,” you say, making contact with your dad in the rear view mirror before continuing, “but everyone’s just… older?” you say hesitantly. Your family laughs at your comment before your mom sniffles quietly. “Mom? Are you crying?” you ask while putting your hand partly on her shoulder and partly on the back of her car seat while she laughs again. “It’s just that we haven’t been a full family in a long time, you know?” she says, looking back and smiling at you sweetly. You smile back as your dad grabs her hand and gives it a kiss, while mumbling “Well we’re here now, honey.”

You stood on the sidewalk in front of your house as you heard the box truck unload behind you. This moment was so familiar, as it felt like it was the summer before grade 8 all over again, when you moved to America with your dad. You sighed as you recalled how many friends you made cry that day as you looked down the road to the park where kids played. Where you once played with your friends. You stared back at your house before walking inside it after so many years.

You grinned brightly at your group of friends pulling up to your house on their bright, multi-colored scooters. “_____! What’s with these boxes?” Jisung asked as he swatted away the empty cardboard box that was about to fall onto him. “Jisung, you haven’t heard? Our _____ is moving…” Ningning sniffles a fake tear and wipes it off. Jisung’s eyes went wide and shooed all of your friends home to “privately talk to you” (everyone knew you were crushing on each other, it was quite obvious). Not before Jake screamed “They’re going to get their braces stuck together trying to kiss!” and Ningning laughing obnoxiously while skating away. You saw Jisung’s red-tinted cheeks before you gave him a sweet smile and led him into your backyard and inside your treehouse. Jisung and you always loved staying in it until late as it was adorned with multiple fairy lights, many pillows, and the ground was lined with fluffy blankets. Jisung smiled at you sadly, before encasing his small hand over your smaller ones. “____… You won’t forget me and find a new boyfriend wherever you go, right?” he asks timidly. “I won’t, if you’ll promise to stay here until I come back from America!” you look at him fondly as his eyes shift around, anxious. He finally makes eye contact with you before saying “Pinky promise.” and locking pinkies. Jisung began to speak, “ I—” “____! Come on, we need to get ready for the airport!” your dad interrupted him, Jisung just stayed silent before you yelled back at your dad, “5 minutes!” “Jisung, say what you need to say… I have to go soon.” you said before you saw him looking down at his legs, which were criss-crossed of course. “____… I’m going to miss you…” Jisung said and you swear you felt his voice falter into a softer voice than usual. “I’ll miss you too Jisung,” you started and hugged him. “I have to go now.” you said, disappointed that this was how your relationship with him was going to end. “I’ll tell my mom to call you often so we can talk! And don’t worry, I’ll find my way back to you.” you said before letting go of him, and you walked to the ladder. Jisung quickly trailed after you as he yelled your name. You turned around, looking at him confused about why he was pulling you closer before you felt it.

You felt his puckered lips meeting your slightly agape ones.

You gasped into his mouth and accidentally inhaled his breath, making him pull away and cough multiple times. He gave you a wonky smile before you reciprocated, speeding down the ladder before smiling even wider.

Your first kiss.

Walking into your house, you saw all of the photos of you hung up alongside the photos of your brother and family. You sat down at the couch before you looked around. You are right, nothing has changed in your house. There was no new furniture, not a single missing picture frame of you and your old friends. You grabbed one of Jisung, Sara, and you at the fair. You look lovingly at the photo, remembering this day clearer than any day in your childhood.

“Mom, I want that!” you screamed as you pointed at the beige and white hamster plush. The fair worker gently smiled at you before informing your mom that one play was $2. Your mom hurriedly shuffled around in her purse before pulling out six $1 bills, politely handing them to the fair worker. “Kids, go play!” she urged Jisung, Sara, and you to the stand. “This is going to be hard to win…” Sara mumbled before throwing the ball at the stack of empty bottles. In the end, your mom lost $12 dollars and you lost your dignity. None of you could even knock down three bottles, let alone six. You sulked towards the pirate ship before Jisung stopped in front of the line. “What’s wrong Jisung?” your mom asked as Sara and you both stopped walking, turning to face them. “I-I don’t want to go on this ride…” he mumbled before looking down, shamefully. “It’s okay! you girls go together, alright? I’ll stay here with Jisung.” your mom ushered you and Sara to go on the ride. Before you could protest, Sara pulled you by your linked hands white shouting “Come on!”

While on the ride, you looked everywhere for your mom and Jisung. You couldn’t find them at all, twisting your head in all sorts of ways before the ride stopped. Everyone rushed off the ride as you were still looking for your mom and Jisung. You heard Jisung yell your name before you snapped your head in the direction of his voice. You turned giddy as you felt Jisung wrap your hand around the soft, fluffy fur of the stuffed animal.

It was the hamster stuffed animal you wanted.

You squealed and hugged him as he laughed, saying into your ear “I got it for you!”As you pulled away you looked at him adoringly, and for the first time he felt shy under your gaze. You thanked him and looked at the plush again, then him.

It was the first day you started crushing on Jisung.

As you were about to walk up the stairs to your room, your mom called you. “____! Could you go to the store and pick up something, please? I forgot to go grocery shopping before picking you up from the airport.” Your mom spoke from downstairs, and you could smell the scent of braised meat rushing out of the kitchen as you walked towards the door. “Text me what you want!” you said before leaving the house.

You breathed in the cool, moist air of the grocery store before grabbing a red cart and opening your phone to see the grocery list and $50 of apple pay your mom sent you.

Eggs Milk Cereal (Anything your brother and you like) Salt Crackers You can get anything else you want with the extra. Love you!

You smiled at her text before looking for the items she requested. You placed the dark green box of Club Crackers into the cart as you wheeled it to the cereal section. You tried to remember what cereal your brother liked… Was it Frosted Flakes? Or Cheerios?

Scanning the isle, you took a lucky guess and looked for Frosted Flakes. You went to reach for them on the third shelf, but there was a problem.

You weren’t tall enough.

You sighed as you looked around for an employee to help you, but you couldn’t see any employees anywhere. Did all the employees really have to be busy right now? You just saw three on your way to the cereal section!

You looked around once more before accepting that you couldn’t see anyone that could assist you, before trying to reach for the box of sugary cereal once more. You were on your tippy toes, fingers nearly gazing at the cereal box before the scent of vanilla and coconut lingered around you.

It smelled just like the eau de toilette you got Jisung for his 14th birthday.

The person grabbed the box for you before you turned around, pushing the box into your hands.

For a moment, you thought he was Jisung. But the thought quickly vanished as you blinked and the picture of Jisung smiling at you was replaced with the face of a complete stranger.

“Thanks…!” you mumbled quickly before rushing off to your cart before he could say anything to you.

You sat on your pink, pretty princess bed as you opened boxes to put your belongings away. Your room is still as cute and glittery as you remember, the years of love (stickers and drawings) shown on the walls around you. You gazed at the photos on the wall and laughed at the picture of Jisung and you with flower crowns in the park next to your house, where you both met.

You were on the grass, picking flowers as a shadow blocked your sight from picking a white flower. You quickly looked behind you before you saw a small boy’s big, anxious eyes gazing at you. “I—... Wow, you’re beautiful!” his little voice said before you laughed at him. His face lightened up as you invited him to pick flowers with you. Every time you went to talk to him, his eyes still peered at you lovingly, in adoration. It made you just as nervous as him.

As you opened the last box labeled “miscellaneous”, you found your old flip phone. Your parents didn’t trust you enough with a smartphone, so instead they gave it as a farewell gift to keep in touch with your friends. It was fun, but short lived as you could only keep contact for so long. You kept reminiscing until you heard a group of people talking and laughing outside your window. Turning around to open your curtains, you saw a group of people around your age outside Jisung’s house.

Soon, you saw Jisung exiting his house. A girl wrapping her arm around his shoulder, her face scrunched up into a happy grin.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at someone who was once so present in your childhood.

Did he contradict what he asked of you before you left and found a new girlfriend? I mean you never really broke up and you couldn’t expect him to wait for you forever.

You chewed at your nails as you watched the group sit on his lawn, the girl’s arm still around him before her fingers entangled in Jisung’s now-dyed dark blue hair. You stare a bit more at her chipped, white nails before you abruptly shut your curtains closed.

Is it wrong to still be in love with someone you knew in the past?

It kept you up all night. What if he saw you? What if he's not the same person he was before? What if he doesn’t remember you? Similar questions swirled around in your head as you looked at the pictures of you and your childhood friends plastered on your bulletin board. Hopefully, you’ll figure out all the answers to your questions. And hopefully they’re all the answers you want to hear.

You groaned as you woke up to the sound of your younger brother running into your room. “Hello~! Get up! Let’s go get ice cream!” Your brother yelled, jumping on you. “Hey, hey! Okay. I’m up… It’s too early for ice cream!” you scolded him as you stood up, the hamster plush Jisung gave you falling off of your bed along with your pink blanket.

You were about to speak until you heard your door ring. “Where’s mom and dad..?” you rest your hands on your hip before your brother tells you about the “overdue date” they’re on, and that you have to take care of your brother while you’re away. You exhale as the doorbell rings again. “Go make your bed,” you say as you peek into his room, seeing his bed sheets messy and pillows everywhere. “We can go eat breakfast after and get ice cream.” you tell him as you race down the stairs. The doorbell rings once again, followed by aggressive pounding before you whine out a loud “I’m coming! Geez…”

Opening the door you freeze as you see who it is. Jisung mimicked the look on your face (of shock, by the way) as he saw you, his eyes lit up.

As you both stand still by the door, you look at the contents of the plate he was holding.

M&M brownies, your brother's favorite.

You look up at him and open your mouth to say something, except nothing comes out. You gaze at his face harder, noticing how he’s aged over the years. He no longer had his blue braces and his hair grew out into a mullet. His face was no longer the gentle, cute one you remember, now it was sharp and chiseled. He was now the tallest boy at school, instead of the shortest. One thing that never changed about him however, was the tint of softness in his eyes. He always looked at and treated you like you were made of porcelain ever since you were both kids. Also, he still smelled like vanilla and coconut.

“Jisung?” you muttered quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. His face slowly bloomed into a smile, the same smile you remember.

“Hi..!” He whispered, his voice now deep and rich. You smiled back at him, feeling the homesick feeling finally fading as you took the plate from his hands and led him inside. You listened as he excitedly talked to you. Every time you looked at him, your stomach churned with each word he said all over again.

Because he still looked at you like you just met.

#nct dream x reader #nct dream reactions #nct jisung #jisung nct #park jisung #jisung #jisung park #jisung imagines #nct #nct dream imagines #nct fanfic #nct dream scenarios #nct fic #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct series #nct drabbles #nct x reader #why am i like this

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marleyybluu · 1 year ago

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Fezco x f!reader

WC: 1.1k

Warnings: I made this as fluffy and sweet as I could. shitty ending cus my attention span can't take it anymore lol

A/N: yes. another one. I said I was feeding yall fez content. quick write up to distract myself from finishing the long ones 🤪didn't know what to title it sorry lol

Growing up you didn't have an interest in being someone's wife, let alone a mother. For years you swore up and down you'd just be the aunty who occasionally kept her nieces and nephews for a week. And then you met him, and your whole persona changed, you found yourself doing domesticated shit and actually enjoying it.

He made it worth it. Your friends and even your siblings constantly stated how shocked they were to see you so in love, so sprung. He brought out the best in you and you hoped you were doing the same for him.

But in his daily activities, you saw the appreciation he had for you. The adoration in those pretty blue eyes, the blush that would creep on his face whenever he looked at you reminded you how he felt the same way he did.

And so one day, you married him. It was a small gathering, both of you didn't have a lot of family and friends so it was pretty intimate but truthfully you didn't want like three hundred guests at your feet anyway. You two were becoming each other's family so only the close ones needed to be there. The ceremony was quick but the reception lasted all night, it was too much fun, enjoying yourself as you saw your new husband let loose and actually dance, lip sync love songs to you with a huge grin on his face.

You knew you made a great decision in choosing your partner.

At the time you were still unsure of kids, and he knew that, said you're the one carrying so whatever you were good with, he was good with. So you went two years married without children, but eventually, you saw something that helped you make a decision. When your younger sister had her baby and asked Fez if he wanted to hold her, to your surprise he said yes. And seeing that little blanket in his arms, the way he looked down at her and smiled. You knew.

Knew that you wanted him to experience it for himself, knew that you'd have no regrets in changing your mind. Younger you would be shocked at how one person made you switch teams.

Next thing you knew you had your own little person growing inside, and Fez took great care of you, took over everything in the house that half the time you had to ask if he wanted help which most of the time he declined but you'd help anyway.

For those nine months, you watched him transform into a dad, getting the nursery together on his own as a surprise to you and he did an amazing job. And the night you went into labour you'd never seen him so calm and ready, for a first-time father he was not freaking out.

When your son was born you'd seen him shed a few tears, he repeatedly praised you and thanked you for providing another person to love. You got to see how attentive he was, rushing over to the baby at every little sound and squirm, hardly wanting to put him down. You had to pry your child out of his arms. He looked like Fez, got his eyes and a bit of ginger was noticed in his slick hair. His placenta perm as you called it, you both laughed.

For the next four years, he taught his son almost everything he could, how to brush his teeth, how to ride a bike, how to ride a scooter-- before he started school, hell before he could even walk, he'd been teaching how to read and write, do basic math and so on.

It made you want another, so bad, you'd give him a stadium full of kids if it meant seeing him like that.

Which led up to today, you looked down at your little girl in your arms. You gave birth the day before and it started all over again, you never knew you had so much room in your heart. You officially had three people living there. Fez sat on the bed with you looking at her, the small sighs that left her pouty lips.

"She's fucking beautiful." He complimented, his hand carefully ghosting over her hair. She gave you more heartburn than the last one. "She is." You cooed tapping her nose. While you stared down at you could feel his eyes darting over to you, you turned to face him, knowing what was coming.

"Thank you, for everything, for my family." You bent your lips in to hide your obviously growing smile. "I wouldn't have done it for anyone else."

"I love you." He murmured leaning over to press his lips against yours. "I love you more."

There was a soft knock at the door, it creaked open giving you a peek at your mother's head. "Can we come in?" She whispered, you nodded, she opened it wider allowing your son and Fez's brother Ashtray inside. "Hi, Mommy." Your son smiled, he pulled away from his uncle and rushed over to you with a bouquet of flowers. "I brought these for you."

You could cry. "Thank you, my baby. Can you put them on the table for Mommy?"

He nodded and tried his best to put on the surface but he needed a bit of help so Fez helped him. He put sanitizer on his little hands and Fez placed him on the bed next to you. "Is that my sister?"

"Yes, this is your sister." You answered teary-eyed. His little hand reached over to rest on the blanket. "She's tiny."

"She is, you were this size once."

He laughed, just staring at her the same way Fez did. "Would you like to hold her?" He quickly nodded, Fez helped him position his hands and placed a pillow under them, you carefully rested the little one in his arms. He giggled nervously when she moved around but she settled in his hold. "I like her."

Fez laughed kissing his head. "We're glad you like her bud."

You looked up at your husband and winked. Your moment was interrupted by a serious question from your young one. "Can I have another one?"

"Another what?"

"Baby sister, I want two."

You covered your mouth to muffle your laughter, Fez turned his head away to hide his. "Um," Your voice was shaky. "When she gets to be as tall as you, Dad and I will talk about it."

"Don't worry, you'll get another one soon." Fez chimed in, you looked up to protest but honestly... he was right.

You'd probably have another sooner than you think.

if you liked this feel free to like this comments and reblogs appreciated peace and love, see you in the next.

🏷: @skyesthebomb @darqchilddaydreamz @bigenergy777 @realhotgurlshit

#fezco euphoria #f!reader #fezco x fem!reader #fluff #marleysfanfictions #marleywrites #headcanon #fezco fic #fezco x you

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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the sea around us; chapter four

In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.

(rafe cameron x f!oc)

(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)

warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)

wc: 2.9k

my masterlist

series masterlist

requests

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

On our way back, we stopped at the wharf because there was a bunch of commotion surrounding the police pulling a body out on a stretcher. We stopped and asked someone what happened, and we were informed that the body was none other than Scooter Grubbs. A lifelong pogue who somehow recently came into possession of, drumroll please, a Grady White. Which was now missing. My heart absolutely broke for his wife, Lana, as we saw her fall apart next to the stretcher. I truly couldn't imagine. Watching it was bringing me to tears, so JJ grabbed me by my shoulders and rubbed my back as he guided me back onto the HMS Pogue.

The drive back to the chateau was almost silent. Which we can hardly ever stand, but I could tell we were all just thinking so hard about what on earth happened. Why did Scooter end up with a gun, that much cash, and a Grady White?

We hop out of the boat back at John B's house, and Pope senses that now is the time to break the silence. "So, we saw nothing. We know nothing. We need to have total and complete amnesia."

"Pope is right," JJ says, unloading Kie's cooler from the Pogue. "Deny, deny, deny."

"Guys, we also can't keep that money JJ took," Kie says, shaking her head.

"And the gun!" I add, looking around at everyone to scan their responses.

"Yes, definitely the gun." Kie agrees.

"Kie, not everyone can afford unlimited data plans." JJ rebuts, John B agreeing.

"JJ, the girls are right. This is insane." Pope says. As I said, our collective voice of reason. "We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs."

"It's bad karma waiting to happen," Kie says.

"Not to mention a felony," I mumble, crossing my arms. "We've got to go totally dark."

"Exactly, and keep the money. No one will know we took anything if we don't return it." Kie, Pope, and I all simultaneously roll our eyes at JJ.

"No... No way." John B says, shaking his head as we all get up on the porch of the chateau and I lean on the edge of a chair.

"What? Why?" JJ asks, turning his hat backward as he approaches John B.

"Just think about it, this is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Some dude that's been buying cigarettes individually at the porthole. I have literally seen him beg for change in the grocery store parking lot so he could pay for gas." John B is right, this guy has never had a dime to his name. "We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat whose never had more than forty bucks in his pocket and all of a sudden-"

Kie cuts him off. "He's got a Grady White..."

"Just saying." John B says, raising his hands, mocking surrender as he sits down next to me.

"There's only one way he could have got his hands on all this shit," JJ says and I raise my eyebrow at him. "Well, two. One: Prostitution," I scoff. "or two: square groupers." He says smugly.

"Oh my god, the hurricane... He was smuggling." I say quietly, seeing the realization show up on everyone else's faces as well.

"Bingo, Snowy. I guarantee he was using it for straight smuggling. Probably a serious amount of contraband on board."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

Later that night, of course, the topic gets brought up again. It's pretty much the only thing we can talk about tonight, one of the only things on our minds.

We find ourselves sprawled across John B's room at this point. John B sat at his window, with Pope on the bed, Kiara on a chair, and JJ at the window opposite of the bed right next to me. JJ leans back into me after Pope snatched the money in question from his hand. "For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband inside of it. . . It probably belongs to someone else."

Kie shrugged. "Minor details."

Pope continued as if he hadn't heard her. "They could come looking for it. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid."

JJ leaned forward and snatched the money back. Spreading it so they could all see the multiple hundred dollar bills as he said, "Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time." He glanced over his shoulder, gaze meeting mine as he grinned. I return the amused smile as JJ looks toward the others. "All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Act normal."

Pope seemed skeptical, as usual. "Right. And how exactly do we do that?"

My gaze meets Kie's, and slow smiles grow on our faces, and we raise our eyebrows at each other; we're definitely thinking the same thing.

Kie looks towards the others, grin widening. "Kegger?"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

After we grab the keg and a few twelve packs for ourselves we make it out to the beach with cups, drinks, weed, and recycling bags (in Kie's case) in hand. It isn't long before we start to draw a crowd made up of kooks and pogues alike, along with some tourons. "Chum for the sharks", as John B would describe them- basically tourists on a vacation with their families, hoping to escape their parents for the evening.

John B and I are in charge of filling cups and handing out beers until we realize enough is enough and we're here to party. Not be bartenders. To be fair though, it was an almost "one for you, one for us" vibe, and we were already pretty drunk by the time the sun starts to set.

"Snowy! Come here!" Kie calls to me, holding out her hand. I can smell the weed on her, so it's clear what she and JJ have been up to.

"Hey." I smile, wrapping my arms around her waist when I walk up. "What can I do for you, Kie?"

"Nothing, I just missed you." Kie smiles, hugging me back.

"Kie, I need to borrow Snowy for a sec if that's cool-" It's JJ, and his arms are suddenly in between us pushing us apart as we both start laughing.

"Yeah okay, steal my friend, JJ. So rude." Kie giggles, pointing her fingers at her eyes and then at JJ as she turns to walk over to John B and Pope, where they're playing beer pong.

"What is up with drunk girls, man? You get one drink in you and just start mackin' all over each other." JJ asks, laughing as he has his arm around my waist, guiding me in the opposite direction.

"You're so dramatic, we were just hugging." I laugh, rolling my eyes and giving him a gentle shove, almost falling back myself in the process as I stumble over my own feet.

"Right- yeah so you're actually way more drunk than I thought you are, so maybe we should start to head back."

I'm not even that drunk. "I'm not even that drunk JJ, come on. What are we doing anyway? Where are you taking me?" I ask him, reaching up and putting my arm over his shoulders. It's not the most comfortable, since he's a decent amount taller than I am.

"A walk! What, I can't take my favorite girl for a walk these days?" JJ laughs, glancing back behind us. "Do you want to sit?" He asks, stopping. I nod and smile as he takes his shirt off, placing it on the ground for us to sit on.

I sit down on his shirt, crossing my legs in front of me and looking out at the sunset. JJ joins me, leaning his arm back behind me to hold himself up, and so I can lean back into him as well.

"It's beautiful," I say quietly, leaning my head on his shoulder and I can feel JJ's eyes on me.

"Yeah.." He agrees.

I glance down the beach at the party, seeing everyone back there having fun, the music sounds so distant.

"I miss BC." I sigh, my drunk mind letting me speak my every thought.

"Why?" JJ chuckles a little bit, pushing some of my hair out of my face with his free hand. "You wouldn't be a pogue and be friends with the coolest kids in the OBX if you were still up there. Besides, have you ever seen a sunset like this?" He asks.

I nod. "Yeah.. the sunsets back home were beautiful. This is too, duh, but so different. Watching the sunset over the mountains was something else. I miss watching them during bush parties. The vibe was similar, but everyone was miles from home with no service, everyone had a tent or their cars were loaded with blankets to sleep in, and you were surrounded by trees, sometimes on the side of a lake. The sun would start to set, then we'd get a bonfire going, and everyone would reek of smoke for the next week. It was.. special. Kegs would take me with him, I was too young to drink so he never let me, but he wanted to get me out of the house." I ramble on and JJ just listens. You wouldn't think he's a good listener, but he really is.

"I'm glad you moved. Maybe that's selfish of me." He says, smiling at me, his hand still on my cheek. I smile back. I can't tell if the beer just isn't sitting well, or if I have a million butterflies suddenly flying around in my stomach. I think it's the latter. "Maybe, if you don't mind, one day, we can all take a trip up there. I think that would be sweet." JJ suggests.

"Thanks, J. That's a nice idea. I don't know if the Twinkie would survive, though..." I trail off, getting more nervous as he stares into my eyes, scanning them, I wonder what he's thinking about. His eyes darted down for a split second to my lips, and I suddenly know. I should want this. I've been obsessed with him for years, I should want this, but something in my gut tells me I don't. I'm scared he'll just shut me out again- that he is just doing this to be cruel. "Maybe we should head back?" I ask, starting to get up. "It's getting pretty dark, I don't have my phone," I explain brushing off my butt and legs to make sure I'm not covered in sand. JJ gets up next to me silently, shaking off his shirt and putting it back on as we start to walk back.

"I just saw Sarah Cameron. She's here." Kie says, approaching us quickly as we rejoin everyone.

Translation: Sarah Cameron? Kook Princess, she has all of the boys in Kildare County falling at her feet. Kie's ex-best girlfriend- before me. Currently, her worst enemy. Daughter of Ward Cameron, real estate god of the Outer Banks, and younger sister of, you guessed it, Rafe Cameron.

"Oh god," I sigh, I already know this won't go down well if any contact is made. "I wonder if Rafe is here," I ask, more to myself than to Kie.

"What, Rafe? Why?" She asks me, tilting her head to the side and I can feel JJ's gaze burning into me, making me blush.

"No reason, I was wondering if maybe Kegs was here, they're hardly ever apart."

"Right, well if Sarah's here, that means Topper is here. If Topper is here, Rafe and Kegs are probably here, so yeah." Kie says, pausing for a second of confusion partway through her sentence so she could remember what she was saying.

I nod slightly and scan the crowd, looking for anybody familiar. John B walks us to us, wrapping his arms around me and Kie's shoulders. "How are my favorite girls?" He asks, rubbing our heads to mess up our hair. They know we both hate it. "Having fun?" He asks, just as I see Kegs approaching me, quickly. I push John B off and start to walk towards my brother, so he doesn't get involved with my friends. I notice he's with Topper, but no Rafe today. The beach parties were never his scene, though, as far as I know.

"Snowy, what are you doing?" Kegs asks me, he's angry, of course.

"Nothing! Jesus Christ- I can't hang out with my friends for one night." I say, pushing him back angrily. He hardly budges. "What do you want?"

"Sarah said she saw you making out with JJ," Kegs said, and I hear someone walking up behind me.

"Hey, yeah so that literally didn't happen." It was JJ, and he cut in before I could explain the same thing.

"You're a fucking liar," Kegs said, getting up in JJ's face now, but he doesn't falter.

"Kegs. Just fuck off." I sigh, running my hand through my hair. "She didn't see anything."

"I'm not lying, man. I promise you, the second I get the chance to mack on your sister, the whole damn world will know." JJ says, taking a step closer to my brother, moving so he's standing in front of me. "I'll call you personally." In shock, I look back at Kie, seeing her put her face in her hands and shake her head- even Pope and John B can see that that was not the right response.

I can see Kegs get super tense, and he pushes JJ back slightly and raises his arm, but I step in and grab his wrist. "Don't you dare, Kegs! Are you kidding?" I say, trying to prevent him from taking a swing at JJ. "He's just trying to rile you up, he's literally joking."

He's breathing heavily, refusing to look at me. "Kegs, you're drunk. Go the fuck home." I say, trying to shove him back again. Just then, Pope comes in and wraps his arms around me, lifting me up and pulling me back, as John B steps in next to JJ. They can tell that I'm not making a difference here. "No! Pope, seriously put me down. Nothing happened, my brother is being a dick." I try to explain. "Sarah's a fucking liar!" I shout, pointing my finger at her as I try to wiggle out of Pope's grip- but it's almost hopeless.

"Watch your mouth!" Topper says angrily, beginning to walk over.

"Hey, man, wait, she didn't mean it," Pope says, trying to diffuse the situation as he covers my mouth with his hand. I'm so mad, but more embarrassed right now.

Just then, I hear gasps and grab at Pope's arms as his grip loosens on me, JJ threw the first punch after my brother wouldn't. Fuck.

"Kegs! Kegs don't- I'm sorry, don't hurt him!" I shout, feeling tears run down my cheeks now as Pope quickly dropped his hand in shock. "Leave him alone!" It didn't matter. They start fighting, and JJ pushes my brother back, turning for a second to catch his breath.

"Dirty fucking pogues.." Kegs says, making John B turn from JJ's side and shove my brother back again.

Kegs is fucking delusional.

He pushes John B back into the water, and they keep fighting despite all of us screaming.

"Kegs, please! Stop!" I shout, but I can tell neither of them can hear anything. "What do we do?" I ask my friends, and when they all stand in shock, I run from Pope's grip and grab my brother, who's now kneeling over John B, whose head is in the water.

"He's drowning him- JJ, do something!" I hear Kie say, as I try desperately to push Kegs off, but he lets go of John B with one hand to shove me off of him. Pretty much as soon as I hit the water, everyone gasps and then gets quiet. Very uncharacteristic for fight spectators, until I hear a click, and push my wet hair out of my eyes and see what's happening.

"Yeah, you know what that is, your move, broski."

"Oh, my god." I start backing up, scrambling to stand up. Kie is already at my side and I hug her, hug her so hard, and put my face in her shoulder, pretending that this isn't really happening. It doesn't work. I peek back up to watch, to make sure everything is okay. That Kegs is okay.

"JJ, stop!" Everyone is yelling at him now.

Kegs lets go of John B and raises his hands, I look briefly over at Topper and Sarah and they look freaked. We all are. Everyone on the beach starts to run as JJ turns and raises the gun in the air. "Okay, everybody listen up!" He shouts. "Get the hell off our side of the island!" He shoots two warning shots up into the air.

John B finally sits up out of the water, and Kie and I rush over to him. "John B, oh my god." I give him a big hug and then Kie helps him up as I run over to my brother who's starting to leave.

"Kegs! Kegs are you okay?" I ask, but he still won't look at me. "Kegs, look at me!" I shout and he stops, turning to me angrily.

"You're psycho friend just put a gun to my fucking head- Snow. Just wait until Mom and Dad hear this. I could have died! Your friend tried to kill me!"

"You were drowning John B! He wasn't going to shoot you he just wanted you to stop. Please, Kegs.." He clearly didn't want to hear it, and he starts walking away, catching up with Topper and Sarah.

Shit.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

#jj maybank #obx #obx fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader

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