#I’d send a message to someone I thought it was and be like ‘hey man I saw your anon and would love to reconnect and talk’
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“15 missed Calls”—Geto Suguru
Synopsis: Suguru wasn’t a jealous or angry man but then you usually didn’t flaunt your ass a round in a tiny dress either- but hey, Halloween’s every girl’s pass at being a whore, right?
── ˚₊✩‧₊ A/n: ok yeah I’m late to post for Halloween but it’s like barely anything to do with it so <3 also I did stray away from what I’d planned to write but then hehe👉👈 also, thanks to @romiyaro for beta and in general (I swear I’ll get pouty! Reader in some Drabble now💀)
── ˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 3.9k
── ˚₊✩‧₊ warnings: MDNI!!smut!!fem! Reader x Suguru; pussy inspection; degradation; jealous (but totally not toxic) Suguru; orgasm denial; hinted power dynamics; reader is more or less a brat; spitting; Suguru is almost a soft dom? It was supposed to be just smut but idk (PWP)
“Crawl”
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up on me Su’”
A nod he passed mindlessly—“Sure thing babe- just lemme know if I have to pick you up and don’t get wasted, send me a message if you change locations and-”
A heavy pause settled in, you walked in skittishly—a bashful grin on your face, “This ok?” Question which referred your dress in place.
Mostly, it wasn’t ok—definitely not appropriate in the way the small little satin piece hugged your body, so short Suguru was sure you would flash somebody after two drinks.
But it was Halloween—every girl’s free pass at being a whore.
A sigh Suguru let out, “it’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous…��
Your smile, guilty, only spread further, “..but?”
He smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing, just take care ok?” A step towards you and a turn of his finger to give him a spin—chuckling as you twirled excitedly and then hugged him—he was very sure it would be a long night.
-
15 missed calls, 25 messages with the same connotation of “are you ok?” And “where are you?”
A single slurred reply to you 40 messages with a “suguwu :)):) m’ kay. Pck me up im 20?”
And with all obviousness, it wasn’t well received at all—so evident in the way tension hung heavy in the car, your seat belt properly holding you in place—his piercing gaze, and the certain placement of his hand on your thigh that kept you as sober as possible.
“Mm sorry,” you slurred out again, head lolling to the side to look at him—stuck at the way his jaw clenched at your words.
Not a word he passed, not a word after that, did you.
And hence, ride back home was quiet, awkward and…in some way, scary.
Click- the door fell shut, locked, entrapping what was of you and Suguru alone in the house.
And just so suddenly, every stitch in the hem of your flimsy red dress began seeming interesting—“What did I tell you?”
You winced and groaned, internally at his tone—“The fact that I trust you to- to, gods,” he paused as if searching for the right words—but you saw it, the switch in his eyes as they darkened just the slightest—“To leave the house dressed as a cheap little whore, one thing I asked for. Your fucked out lil’ brain can’t even do that?”
You stood there in the middle of your apartment, frowning and loosely, berated as a little kid, it seemed.
“Mm’ sorry Su’ it’s just- the girls-”
A sharp glare from him, enough to make your excuses die down your throat—“The girls this and the girls that right? Why was there nobody when I picked you-”
“-I ordered them all Ubers,” you muttered under your breath, a silence resting again.
“And you couldn’t one for yourself, why?”
You paused, hesitated—never once looking at him, “I thought…I thought I had you so…”
That was when Suguru took notice of the pout you held—the one you did all the time, The one he mostly loved.
“Besides,” you began—attention strained on the memory as you thought hard, “I’m not a child to be taken care of, or someone who’ll get lost-”
What you had assumed would quieten everything down only seemed to uproar a side of him you barely saw.
“Excuse me?”
You gulped, hard—“well yeah-”
“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, moving all so close—“You were down right freezing and shivering when I pulled up, I don’t care what your girls do but your tits were almost hanging out, like a damn slut. Hell, why did you have those 20 dollar bills stuffed in there?”
You almost wanted to chuckle at the last part- it would make for a funny story, but the look on Suguru’s face screamed that it would have to wait till at least, the next day.
“I was alright,” you scoffed, a hand pushing him away—not a budge that it caused in his stance, “The bartender…he was nice- didn’t even let no one come near our drinks and- and even offered me lemons after closing and-”
“-woman,” Suguru interrupted quick, a long sigh withdrawn, “it was me who offered you lemons,”
You waited—a pink tint already dusted your face, ears burning at his words, “oh.”
He sighed again, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as you bit your lip—gods how he adored you—especially when you wobbled slight, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling yourself into him, head resting in his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, against his body—his hands resting on your sides, “I know you’re a big girl alright? I know you can look after yourself,” he pulled away slight, a kiss landing on your forehead, “but it’s my responsibility too you know? And it was majorly annoying to have you gone like that,”
A nod you passed, again an apology mumbled except this time you were met by the shake of his head.
“No you’re not,” he mumbled, “you do this a lot you know?”
And you do, not informing him of the late night work sessions and what not, not informing him on time of a date cancelled, he was rightfully tired.
“Now, here on I’ll just punish you doll, you can deny it and we’ll go off to sleep and deal with it another time or you can be a good girl, my good girl and take everything because frankly, I’m a little too mad to sleep right now,”
You looked into his words, it wasn’t a bad idea, particularly, you would of course never utter a no.
But then, you knew what it entailed, you knew how it ended last time, how embarrassing but then just how much you loved it too—a nod, all the affirmation provided.
“Strip,” a command from there on, “quick,” he added, eyes boring into your form as he did so.
And strip you did, it wasn’t anything new but just the way your fingers trembled, as did your thoughts as you pulled down the satin dress down—Suguru’s groan was loud, sounding throughout the apartment—your breasts well out easily, “No bra?” And you wanted to snort at the obliviousness of the question, of course, no bra.
“At least tell me you’ve got your panties still on,” you licked your lips, face warmed up at his words—it wasn’t anything new, but then why did that certain tone of condescension feel just so right?
Suguru held back another groan as the white g-string came to his view, the one that he bought, “such a slut,” he whispered.
Over the couch, he motioned you—the sound of his tongue clicking as you stepped forward.
“I’m sure only good girls get to be with dignity,” there on his face, he held a grin which you wanted to slap away too—but all to no avail.
“Crawl” everything in his voice assured you that a brat was not what he would appreciate tonight.
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
It was simply embarrassing, in the way your hips swayed a little as you moved, all that was your dignity remained flitted to that small piece of clothing that you knew Suguru would probably tear away.
Your gaze remained downturned, too ashamed, humiliated to even look him in the eyes—but just one glance and you’d see that amused smirk, the satisfied expression on his face as he took in the sight displayed for him.
You halted near his feet- a ginger lick of your lips, unsure, uncertain on the sequence to be followed, tugging on the hem of his pants in a confused manner.
“Hm? Don’t know what to do? My, and here I thought the big girl was all so smart to do as she pleased,”
You let out a loud whine at his words, startled a little too as he squatted down to your level—“sh,” he muttered, pressing a finger to your lips, “all I want to hear tonight is an actual apology,”
Another nod, tersely you snapped your eyes away, knowing that’s as all you could do tonight.
He hummed along as well, getting up and motioning you with a finger too, “on the couch please doll,” and you were sure what was to come here on.
Across the arm rest you lay, biting your lip—so exposed, so vulnerable and to think he hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing himself.
His fingers were gentle in the way they touched you, you knew he wasn’t mad—but you knew you’d also end up crying by the time he was done.
They traced you gently, over your back, feathery touches to your spine—tickling almost, he bent down just at that too, down to your ear, “Feeling ashamed hm?”
A hum was all to add to his words as you lay yourself easy, tension ebbing away with the way he massaged you—“you know,” he began, “you should be more ashamed of your actions, acting like a brat rather than being ashamed of your pussy and bare ass on display,”
Just at that you wanted the couch to engulf you, you knew that he knew you did—that was the purpose, “You deserve some punishment eh?” A squeal you let you as his pinned you inner thigh, pushing it apart—“should get your pretty little girlfriends too eh? Make em watch since all of you seem like a bunch of sluts to me,”
All in good humour, you reminded yourself, but a small pout found it’s way along your features, as it always did when Suguru got degrading.
“15 spanks,” he mused, “just pink enough right?” — the sentence was ended with another pinch, 15, you but your lip—there would be something more to it.
“15 and you thank me for each, yeah pretty thing? Your pretty head can do that f’me tonight?”
you bobbed your head, not daring to even turn your head and look at him once.
A patient quiet settled in, your body relaxed further—Suguru smiled wide as he looked at you, so perfect for him, “remind me why you’re here sweetheart?”
The sweetness in his vice was sharp still, condescending in every way, “b-because I uh- I…I was out late? Didn’t—did not call o-or inform you-ah!”
-smack!
Your words simply fell short as the slap landed hard on your ass, so sure to grab it right after and and squeeze—Suguru pulled back, and waited.
“Thank you, Suguru,” you sighed, and you waited right after, expecting the next hit.
“We can stop if it’s too much-”
“-I’ll take it, wanna be a good girl, please i-”
A sharp slap on your right cheek and then the left, aimed carefully, accurately proportional, “atta girl,”
“Thank you,” you groaned at his words, eyes clenched shut, surprised in the way he chose not to hold back in midst of your words—but then, typical Suguru.
Just so, many a times Suguru landed the flat of Palm down on your ass, dusty pink to a rosy one, the process was slow as your backside gained its hue, so pretty.
18 spanks in, Suguru never spanked just the amount he promised, always more—the 19th spank sounded like a crack against your warmed up ass, you didn’t bother showing your gratitude.
A small pause, Suguru chuckled, “nothing? Why don’t I just-” a sharp pain elicited in you bottom half as another slap sounded in the room- a hard spank on your pussy, just hard enough to have you gasping.
“Thank you,” you mumbled out—tears forming at the brink of your eyes now,, form slumping onto the couch, exhausted and spent, sore from the position he’d had you hold so long.
“Bet you are, especially from all this wetness,” another slap on your pussy, “getting wet from your punishment?” Another slap, the tears threatened to spill, at this point, “that’s how sorry you are?”
You wanted to scream at him, thatyou were sorry but it was Suguru and this conversation was nuts to begin with so you remained your quiet, the pout slowly turning to a frown.
“On the couch, legs wide apart,” scrambling to your feet, you detested the way he chuckled as you grabbed onto him for support, the booze never helped and the way you were all so sore from hefty time spent in that uncomfortable position, nothing helped at all,, but that was fine, Suguru was gentle in the way he helped you settle.
“Just a small inspection, ok doll?”
The words and the fate of it came crashing down on you fast.
You gritted your teeth at his words, you knew what that meant—he would find your arousal, shame you for it, punish you maybe and you loved the process, every bit of it.
Sprawled across the couch, feet planted to your side onto the couch, while Suguru rested in the place between, warm breath tickling you, making your hole clench around nothing.
“If I slip these panties down,” you’re weren’t sure why he even bothered asking, the wet spot was all so apparent, “will I find you wet?” Even so, you lay audacious—a shake of your head, his smirk widened.
Fingers hooked into the waist and of your g-string, he pulled quick, not a second wasted , he’d been wanting to do this all evening.
An amused raise if his brow, eyes stuck at the string of your juices that worked its way from your pussy to the gusset of your flimsy panties.
There, finally, in all its glory, your pussy lay glistening with arousal under his gaze—“liar,” he grinned as he stared at it hungrily, “such a fuckin’ liar,” he repeated, almost in a daze.
Subconsciously though, your hips rolled, almost lifting to feel his touch, another set of clicking sounds, “don’t act like a cheap whore, you think I’ll just touch your pussy like that?”
Your eyes watched him, confused, as they stared down at his form in between your legs, kneeling for you, hair tied back.
“Need to see if this pussy’s still worth it babe,” and soon enough, everything made sense—a whine of disagreement rose through you, a glare from him acted enough a filter.
“Please, I’m sorry-”
“-prove it doll,” was all he muttered as he dove his fingers onto your pussy, mindful to only cause discomfort as he prodded at your folds, no more or less.
“Let’s see…” he snickered, “gods,” he chuckled, “think I gotta clean all of this before I can even start eh?”
Your eyes bounced around ditzy, you wanted just him, anything—“but the question is do we do this the right way and I wipe you clean? Or…” and all before the statement even came to its end, Suguru had dived in, pressed his hot tongue flat against your folds, basking in the gasp that you let out.
A sharp inhale you took as he pulled away just as fast, his eyes stuck onto yours, “I think cheap whores like you shouldn’t get the better end of the stick so…” with that, you cursed internally at the box of wipes that Suguru and you kept on the coffee table all the time—you cursed as the pulled out three tissues with ease.
“It’s supposed to cause discomfort so be prepared for that but if it hurts or is too much, let me know, ok?”
You nodded at his words, nervousness flickering on your face and he chuckled, squeezing your wrist slight—little comfort that it provided.
The first dab was ginger, as if testing his boundaries, soon came the second and then the third—until Suguru was easily navigating and cleansing you, almost felt infantilising.
How so very humiliating indeed.
“That’s your apology hm?” The smile jo longer rested on his face, “look at only me when I’m down here,” he added, noticing the slight hang of your head and almost closed off eyes.
“Such a naughty girl that you are,” he mused, “am I to believe you got this turned on from a spanking? Or was it something your girls did hm?” A sharp smack that ended on your hardened clit, he stroked it a little while he was there, “how absolutely pathetic doll,”
Shame blanketed you slight, not covering all of what you wanted for you still remained absolutely naked and open on for him, a satisfied hum he passed, tossing away the second tissue after dragging it from your slit all the way down to your other hole.
“Now that I begin inspecting my girl,” he chuckled at the pout you’d held the entire while, “you brought this upon yourself baby,”
And you had, but particularly, Suguru did think you held up better than most times.
You watched as he eyes your pussy, unsure of how to embarrass you further—he grinned, “my my, it’s so pink underneath all that slick hm? Almost as pink as your sweet ass,” with that he landed a sharp slap to your ass, just as a reminder—giggling at your squeal.
Thick fingers spread apart your folds slowly, tracing it over your pussy lips—a tickling sensation, “is your cunt clean enough to be used hm?”
You let out a sigh as he pulled at your folds, making sure to not once lay a finger on your clit—yet accurate enough to just pull back the hood of it.
“Is it clean enough that I can use your little hole now as a cum dump?” His fingers patted down onto your bare cunt, relishing in the wetness that seeped out your hole—“maybe you don’t deserve it all hm?”
With that, Suguru spit on your cunt, the wetness only ever grew as he Smeared it around, “had to make sure,” he snickered mischievously, “that this pussy’s still mine.”
You wanted to whine and groan, shove his head into your pussy so he eat you until you cried—but you know, you knew all too well that any attempts would only get your hands tied and mouth gagged with your soiled panties.
Suguru hummed, snapping his fingers, “eyes on me doll—now, I think, from the outside, you’re ok,” he smirked, “but I’d need to check the inside too right?”
You nodded at his words mindlessly, of course anything he said would he correct, “you’re lucky I’m not mad at ya, would’ve made ya bounce on that dildo of yours till ya’ cried,”
And by now, your patience was running low—Suguru was a tease, apparent from the way your clit itself twitched for his contact, your hips rolled and hole clenched uselessly—you were dying to fight back.
But you wouldn’t, because Suguru demanded a good girl tonight.
A finger moved into you slow, very slow, hips bucked only to be pushed down harshly by Suguru at that—“Take only what I give you,” he warned, loving the feel of your walls clenching about his finger.
You were to watch him, sure but nothing mattered anymore as your head fell back—“please,” you whimpered, “just a little more.”
He smiled at the way your face contorted about his thick finger, slow as he moved it about, a circular motion and then pushing it against your walls before pulling away entirely.
The slick coated his finger just as before, only this time He brought to his mouth still, tasting you right there and humming.
“Good as always,” he muttered, eyeing carefully your ministrations, “please Suguru,” you cried out, “touch me p-please,”
Tricky slope.
Suguru was going to touch you anyways, of course he would but your statement only ever pushed away the ebbing orgasm he would’ve provided.
“Of course, my love,” he grinned—slyly before pushing in two fingers roughly into your hole—loving just how you gasped and mewled about it.
Then again, nothing mattered to you anymore.
"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" your begs fell in a hoarse voice.
“A sweet spot already?” A toothy grin he held as he pumped the two fingers into you slowly, loving the way your eyes rolled back at his touch.
Your thighs were spread out wide on the couch — raised now in the air as he leaned his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that made you shudder and grip a cushion.
"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"
“Ah, ah, ah, only apologies I said, right?” His tone was so soft even so, almost heavenly that you felt.
You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls— sticky juices are all over his hand because of all that cleansing he worked out of you earlier. Suguru smiled to himself, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate getting that couch wet with your juices in the morning—to hell with that.
You looked cute, as you gasped and moaned in his fingers—he took note of the ever present pout on your lips, oh how he wanted to fuck it out of you—but then, the mean thrusts diluted down to gentle strokes soon enough, boy was he soft for you.
Suguru was doting still, knowing that no way you could’ve taken his cock without prep—struggling with even his fingers tonight, he loved being bigger than you.
Bigger, faster, harder and merciless as they pursue your orgasm.
"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"
"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.
He chuckled when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.
“Nothing unless I allow it,” he announced finally, ah—that was why he’d been lenient earlier—gods how you hated him.
He studied you intently as your orgasm built up, if only that was his focus onto other things— maybe if he would have had the same determination in general as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he perhaps wouldn’t have struggled with daily life issues as much as he had to.
Suguru's dampened forehead rested against your thighs. He felt the radiating heat of your pussy in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.
"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.
"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.
The apartment was filled entirely, with the sound of your gushing pussy squelching with his thrusts—so tempted to attach his tongue onto your cunt but he knew you’d never be able to control yourself after that.
But to tease you was the goal—just slightly, almost a feathery touch he lay on your clit as he began rubbing it again, “shit doll, I do think your pussy’s worth turning a cum dump into,” you groaned at his words—mind almost mush as you chased your high, clenching at his fingers—until he pulled out immediately.
Until your high entirely ebbed away.
A confused and betrayed look you passed him, “wa-wait what? Suguru-! I-”
He simply giggled at your state, slapping your ass one more time as he got up and away, “you’re an idiot if you thought you’d be cummin’ t’night,”
All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.
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4: the cold // series m.list
note: reblogging w fic taglist cos the limit is annoying n my posts keep glitching </3 sorry for the long wait! i literally finished c2u and was working on c2u's extras as well as attempting to keep my life together LOL . this jk is literally GETTING INTO IT YUHHH . hope everyone is enjoying the story ,, i'm so excited for the rest ! we're halfway thru :( if u missed aao jk ,, lmk ur fave moment of his as of now huhuhuuuu
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo
//
Picture this.
Jungkook sent you a text, claiming to be sick. He said:
jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: no fr i get so dizzy standing up lol
jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: deadass i’m wearing like 7 layers and i’m chilly af .. need the warmth of ur arms, baby 🙏🏼
jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: do u think u can come by w some medicine? i’d owe u like… my whole heart
jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: nvm gave that to u already 😘✋🏽
Your natural response to his concerning text messages was to call him. When you called to check up on him, you noted how he coughed at every perfect pause... How his voice was toned groggy with a hint of pathetic.
Just as pathetic as his lie.
Does he think you're dumb? Fine. Two can play this game.
The second Jungkook opens the door and is greeted by his friends, grinning goofily with alcohol in their hands—he feels the urge to shut the door at their face. “Ah, for fucks sake—”
“Not so fast!” Hobi squeals as he grabs your wrists and tugs you from the back of the crowd to the front. Offering you to Jungkook, Hobi winks, “I believe this belongs to you.”
Jungkook’s eyes soften at the sight of you.
Lowering his head, he purses his lips for a kiss. You blink at him, letting him stand there like a fool. A few of his friends chuckle at the rejection, but it doesn’t dishearten Jungkook. Instead, he lifts his head and carries on.
Hey, the kiss was worth a shot.
With a patient tone, he tries to talk this out. “I thought it was just going to be you coming over...”
Shrugging at him, you answer; “And I thought you were sick.”
"Well, what can I say? I always feel better whenever you're around." Jungkook chides.
Unimpressed, you tsk at him. “Nice try, buddy.”
Your hunch was right.
Jungkook wasn't sick.
There was no eye bag in sight, no cough to be heard, and with the short amount of time it took him to answer the door; he doesn't seem dizzy at all. If anything, he looks freshly showered and prepared.
For a sick man, his 5PM fit was rather suggestive. He's wearing jeans, and a white wife beater with an off-white button-up unbuttoned. He must know he's hot, right? He wore this on purpose.
"A little dressed up for someone who should be pretending to be sick..." you poke his chest.
Jungkook grins, instantly shrugging his button-up off. "Oh, my bad. Here, I'll undress and—"
"Jungkook!" you gasp as you tug his button-up back on. "Your friends are here! Don't be so shameless—"
"Whose fault is that?" he laughs. "___, was I not clear when I asked for you? You. Not the circus.”
“Hey!” Nam Joon cries from the crowd. “Are you calling me a clown?”
Jungkook lifts his head and shakes it. Smiling at his hero, he assures Nam Joon; “Not you, hyung. I love you.”
Earning a few laughs, the moment ends when Jin interrupts and pushes past you. Jungkook places his arm in front of your body, gently moving you against the wall. He shoots Jin a glare but Jin doesn't seem to catch on. He makes one final comment before inviting himself into Jungkook's home; “Stop sucking Joon's dick and let us in!”
As his friends cheer and begin to invade his home, you stand still and laugh at them hustling in. As they make random remarks, Jungkook warns them not to touch certain things in his living room and that his bedroom is off-limits. Walking in, his friends can't help but feel out of place when they spot the homecooked meal Jungkook prepared for you two. The table is all set up. The projector is ready to go in the living room corner, accompanied by the ever so comfy set up of pillows and fuzzy blankets on the couch… The fuzzy blanket on the couch that Taehyung and Hobi have now wrapped themselves in.
Yeah..
Jungkook did not see this coming. He groans at the very sight. His plans were ruined.
Once Jimin gets his little ass inside, you take that as your cue to head in. You duck under Jungkook's arm and just as you think you’re about to get away—he stops you. He takes a step back and swoops his other arm around your waist.
“Not so fast.”
You huff. “Okay. I’ll walk in slow motion—”
“___…” Jungkook says in a warning tone. “Yah, I said I was sick and you show up here with my friends?”
You poke his chest. “I had a feeling you were up to no good. I brought reinforcement.”
For the most part, Jungkook likes to think he has you figured out. Then, you pull shit like this and he is completely tongue-tied.
Jungkook can’t help but applaud your move. It’s petty and nonchalant… It’s well played. Yet, he feels bittersweet at the very realization that you’ve outsmarted him so early on.
To be fair, his main moves are centered around lies.
… Is it so wrong that he thought he could at least get one last good lie before facing the truth?
The truth is that he has grown to like you so much he has completely lost control of his words and thoughts. Every time he’s around you—that’s it. That’s the entire moment. That’s his entire world. He doesn’t know how to keep it that way, you know? He hasn’t figured out how to freeze time and just be with you. So, he lies. He lies in an attempt to make the moment last just a second longer.
He knows he could have you with a simple conversation and his bunny smile. He knows he’s kindhearted and would be a great boyfriend if you let him… He’s just having a hard time navigating through all the feelings. They consume him faster and fiercer than he expected. The only way to keep up is to keep you near, and the only way to keep you near is to keep making excuses.
Thus, this week’s excuse.
He huffs at you. "A home-cooked meal, a movie on my projector, and comfy blankets... Means I'm up to no good? Come on, ___. This is ridiculous!"
"You've been so mischievous ever since—"
"It was just the ice skating thing!" Jungkook defends himself.
"It was also the pocky thing—"
His eyes light up. Jungkook’s lips curve into a smirk. "Ah... Thinking about our kiss, huh?"
Now you feel sick.
Was he serious? How does he do this to you? He says everything so bluntly and out of pocket, your tummy has no choice but to flip upside down and feel all the butterflies flutter.
"N-no!" you panic.
"Pucker up and prove me wrong," Jungkook insists, shutting his eyes and pursing his lips at you. "Like you said, I'm not sick. Kissing me won't get you sick—love sick, maybe..."
You cross your arms at him.
"Jungkook."
Opening his eyes one at a time, he puts his hands up and lets you go. He'll admit defeat here. Clearly, you aren't happy with his moves...
He'll try this.
He'll try honesty.
“___," he smiles, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, I was trying to—”
“Flirt?” you finish his sentence. “Yeah, sure… Has it ever occurred to you that you can flirt with me without lying?”
His eyes widen.
“Does it bother you that much?” He asks, feeling like he is completely messed up. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it was harmless—”
You shake your head, denying his accusation. It was deeper than that. It is the principal and the root of his lying being a habit in your relationship.
“It’s not that it bothers me that much… It's just... Y-you don't have to do all this, you know? I like getting to know you, but it feels like it's impossible. You keep setting up scenarios for yourself to look good in or for me to take care of you in. I'd do it regardless if you're hurt or not. You know that, right?"
"I do," Jungkook agrees. "I just..."
You look at him with sincere eyes. "Jungkook, I'm just not understanding... Why? It’s just weird to me that you were so confident and honest when you confessed. To be honest, I really admire that part of you. B-but now that you’re… That w-we’re…. Uhmm—it's different. You're acting differently. You can flirt with me all you want. It's whatever... But maybe try something else? I'm tired of you lying, Jungkook.”
He gulps.
"You want honesty?" Jungkook begins. "Here it is... I like you too much. Like, so much that I don't know what to do with myself whenever you're around—not to mention it's even worse when you're not. I want your attention. All the time. Everything about me for everything about you."
"Jungkook—"
"Can you wait for me?" He asks you unexpectedly. "Wait for me to get it right... Because I know I can. I will get it right."
When you two join everyone inside, Jungkook’s apartment is filled with so much chaos it’s difficult for him not to A) partake and B) be upset about everyone crashing his date night (by ambush).
Honestly, Jungkook’s been pretty busy lately. He’s been neglecting his social life as school, work, and you (not that he’s complaining) have been taking over. In a way, he finds it sweet that you ruined his plans with yours. Especially since you came in with all his friends. It was a nice surprise. He will definitely take note of your sneaky ways too.
By the time everyone gets hungry, there’s barely any space for anyone to eat. Some friends are sitting on the floor, eating off the coffee table or parts of the couch. Others are eating standing up, and the rest crowd over his tiny kitchen island and dining table. There are a few girls you’ve invited here and just as usual, you all went to the bathroom together. As you all enter back into the scene, there is absolutely no space.
“___!” Jin calls you over. “Eat with us.”
You look at the girls and exchange laughs. They tease you before pushing to towards the dining table. As you approach, you realize there’s barely space let alone a seat. Without much thought, you gravitate towards Jungkook who is sitting and eating. Squeezing your way through, he notices you and nods towards Hobi. Hobi then responds by handing you a plate of food Jungkook set aside for you. Taking the plate, you thank Hobi. Jungkook then pushes his chair back and just as he’s about to get up from his seat to give to you—
“No, it’s okay. Sit.” You insist.
“But you don’t have a seat—”
Then, it happens so naturally.
You place your plate on the table next to his and take a seat on his lap. When you do this, all the boys exchange looks but say nothing. Their eyes almost pop out of their head and Hobi even chokes on his food. He tries to hide it and turns away so you don’t think twice about it. They’re all aware of how shy you are and this? This was a big thing for Jungkook that they couldn’t ruin. You were finally coming out of your shell.
Thank god.
Meanwhile, Jungkook feels winded.
He can’t believe this.
He can’t believe you.
But given the circumstances… He might just have to. So, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he smiles at you warmly and tells you that he put all your favourites on your plate. He tells you to eat everything and that he ordered strawberry bingsoo for dessert.
“I love strawberries!” you gasp. Looking up, you bat your eyelashes and tease him, “yah, you make it too obvious you have a crush on me… You know that?”
Jungkook squints at you, followed by scrunching his nose. You lean against his forehead and mimic his little stare.
It takes everything in him to not lean in and kiss you.
Slowly but surely, everyone leaves. The only ones left are you, Jungkook, and the other 6 clowns. Yoongi and Jin went out to start the cars while Joon, Taehyung, Jimin, and Hobi finished up taking the trash out or washing the dishes.
You and Jungkook are tidying the living room. He thanks you for organizing the little get-together and apologizes again for lying to you about being sick. You tell him it wasn’t that serious—it was just built-up confusion and frustration. Further, you tell him that you don’t want him to see you as someone that he has to jump through hoops to spend time with. You tell him you want it too. You want to spend time with him too. You want to get to know him too.
You want to fall in love—
"I can do that," Jungkook nods, understanding where you're coming from. Your thoughts are interrupted as he fluffs the final pillow and grabs your hands. He squeezes them and then lets go. "But only if you stop being so oblivious. At least try, you know? It's hard for me too. Like, we're dating and I'm trying to woo you and shit—"
Dating?
Woo you?
Shit.
Your heart skips a beat.
"Wait," you pause. "Jungkook, a-are we dating?”
Just when he opens his mouth to speak, Hobi interrupts.
“___, let’s go! Jin wants to race Yoongi!”
Jungkook blinks at Hobi. “You’re not racing when ___’s in the car. Are you mad?”
Hobi lifts his hands. “Shit man, I’m just the messenger!”
Without skipping a beat, Jungkook turns to you with stern eyes. “I’ll drive you home.”
You decline. “You’re already home. Relax, it’s Jin. He’s all talk and no bite.”
“___…”
As a compromise, you promise him; “I’ll ride in Yoongi’s car.”
He thinks about it for a moment. Then, he realizes he has no other practical choice. “Fine. At least if you guys do race, you’ll be in the winning car.”
Hobi coughs. “Yo, what the fuck? I’m riding in Jin’s.”
You laugh and tell Hobi you’ll meet them out the door in a second. Hobi leaves immediately, yelling at Jimin to trade spots with him so he can ride with Yoongi. Once he’s out the door, Jungkook’s apartment falls in silence.
“.... I better get going,” you breathe. “I’ll see you around?”
Scanning his apartment, you smile at the sight of everything being tidy. Picking up your feet, you head towards the door. Like a sad puppy, Jungkook trails behind you.
As you head out, Jungkook feels an urge in his stomach to make this moment last longer. “Oh... S-sure. See you at the library tomorrow?”
“You hate the library.”
“No, I don’t—”
“It’s also Saturday tomorrow.”
Jungkook blinks at you. “I love spending my Saturdays in the library.”
Giggling at his awful attempt, you remind him, “hey, we just talked about you and your fibs—”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jungkook surrenders. He puts his hands up and tilts his head. Pouting as you put your shoes on, he continues to ramble. “See what I mean? I say the wildest things just to be with you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, plopping back up. Jungkook then helps you put your jacket on and gives you your tote bag. “Whatever you say, liar.”
He rolls his eyes at you. As you open the door, you face him with a silly face. He ruffles your hair as he bids his farewell, “Goodnight. Text me when you get home, baby.”
Then, just like that, the door shuts and Jungkook is all alone.
As he turns away and finally feels like he can catch his breath after everything that happened between you two tonight, he hears the door knock. Turning back, he reaches for the doorknob, opens the door, and sees you standing there.
“Did you forget something?”
“Goodnight kiss.”
He draws a blank.
“What—”
Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as you tiptoe and reach for the nape of his neck and pull him close. Leaning in, you press your lips against him and kiss him softly. Without hesitating, he kisses you back and chases your lips the second you pull away.
You pull away too fast for his liking.
“Okay, goodnight—”
He kisses you again, deepening it as much as he can. When you pull away to catch your breath, he sneaks in one last kiss. Then, he kisses your cheeks and turns you around. Before sending you off, he teases you one last time.
“Go away. I hate you.”
Laughing at his words, you realize that sometimes—they aren’t so bad.
Him and his lies.
You and your reading in between lines.
#bts fanfic#jungkook scenario#jk fic#jk f2l#jungkook drabble series#jungkook fluff#jungkook boyfriend au#bts f2l#bts fluff
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MCYT HAVING A CRUSH • HEADCANONS
A/N: I write for Foolish and Punz now too, everybody cheered! Here’s some (really specific, too!) headcanons on how they would act when reaaallyyy crushing on someone… Any way, please keep sending me requests! May take a while for me to write them, but hey, I’ve been feeling really excited about writing lately 🫶🏻 My next, or one of my next, uploads will be a full-length little fiction piece of Dream having a crush, sooo we’ll continue with this crush theme… 👀
DREAM:
If you were a streamer yourself, he’d definitely gift subs on each stream of yours. Let’s be real, he wouldn’t settle for 20 gifted subs, make it a 100. Sometimes he’d donate and attach messages with them such as “hey nice stream you got there” or just straight up “(sugar) daddy dream is here”. UM, RIP CHAT. AM I RIGHT? Knowing him, it’d be an unnecessarily large amount of money, but he just wants to see the stunned look on your face and hear you thank and praise him for his generosity like no other. Man’s smiling so hard at himself and feeling a little prideful for being able to spoil you like that, in front of thousands of people watching too, and thinking if only he could spoil you as more than a friend.
Giving you piggyback rides! Or more like demanding to give you piggyback rides… Dream would give off such cocky energy when he’d get to carry you on his back, though. Like you were royalty and he was your carriage. I can just imagine him walking around piggybacking you and someone asking him for a favor, to which he’d reply “I’d love to but I’m kinda busy here, and my hands are kinda full so…” and gesture at you on his back and his hands supporting you. You’d hurrily try to climb off of him, to which he’d just yelp a little “no!” and then proceed to throw you a reassuring smile over his shoulder, silently telling you he likes having you so close to him.
Yeah so, those little acts of service are it for him. He’d feel the urge to spoil you, as stated before, and this side of him would strongly come out if you ever were to shop with him around. If you ever wanted to even look at an item, you better do it quick and not let him see. Because the moment he sees you looking a little too hard at or twiddle with something you’re considering buying, he strides over to you and starts asking “you want it? ‘Cause if you want it, it’s yours” and you can already see him taking out his credit card. And before he even gives you time to think, he has already bought it for you. Damn, he’d buy the whole store for you in a heartbeat if you asked. So, better not even joke about it to him…
You know the really cheesy move guys pull when they yawn and stretch and lift up their arm and then put it over their crushes’ shoulder? I feel like Dream would be so guilty of attempting that, successfully attempting that. He’d make it super playful though, he doesn’t want to scare you away, in case you wouldn’t feel the same way about him. After successfully getting his arm around you, he’d blissfully sigh “ah! This is nice, or what?”
He’d make playlists, for himself. And they’d be public for everyone to see. Nothing weird about that, right? Or at least at first, there was nothing exceptional about them, or so did everyone thought, until later a few fans pointed it out that, maybe coincidentally, the first letters of each track spelt out your name. Totally not a coincidence for Dream, even though that’s what he tells to the curious public: it’s all a coincidence. He wouldn’t be afraid to make his crush on you obvious to the world. Because no one would know just how serious he was about it, instead he’d just play it off as playful banter between two close friends. It’d be just for him to know that he did it out of true affection. Maybe someday for you to know as well, he hopes. But for now, he settles for playing it cool and laughing off the people online freaking out.
Even more of being close to you. Like in forms of giving you massages. Yep. He’d sneak up behind you and just start massaging your shoulders. In a totally friendly way. Or so he hopes it seems like, because again, he doesn’t want to scare you away. So a friendly massage. And who are you to turn down a free massage? And so he’s massaging away and relishing in getting to be close to you again. He’d get super into it though and probably make a few dramatic “Ohh! Ahh! Oh yeah!” sound effects of his own. He’d ask you then “you feel good now?” You know damn well that Sapnap would fight the urge to ask Dream does he like making you feel good.
SAPNAP:
Congrats, now that he’s (still secretly) hardcore crushing on you big time, you have a hype man of your own (that’s him). If it came to video games and watching you play them, he’d (sometimes lewdly) comment on every move you’d make in the game, such as “you’re so fucking good at that. You know what being around a good player, who’s also hot, does to me”, he’d scream “YEAH!” a little too loud whenever you’d win. Others hearing it will point out his constant praise with a “yeah, we get it already” to which he’d mumble a quiet “shut up” and bite back a smile. Like Dream, he just wants to like you loud and proud, but not give it away that he’s actually being serious and doing more than just platonic flirting. He also finds you being skilled attractive, no matter how small the said skill is. Even when it comes to mundane things, he’s still rooting for you. It could be something as simple as cooking with him and his need to praise you would get triggered by something as simple as you working a blender perfectly. Yeah… He cheers and claps when you’re done blending and then explains himself when you question what got him so excited, “n-no, nothing, it’s just that, that can be pretty tough, y’know? Especially avoiding spillage. Dream usually doesn’t know how to do it the right way so-“ “Yes, I do!” Dream would interrupt and yell from the living room. Sapnap just hopes he shuts up so he doesn’t blow his cover. He knows that Dream knows damn well how to use the blender, but in his eyes you’re just superior at everything, so even if it takes throwing Dream under the bus to make you feel superior, he’ll do it.
Okay, so, he loves praising you but he also likes hearing you praise him. He’d trick you into it though by asking you questions such as “don’t I just look so good today?” or “do you like this new hoodie I bought?” You’d have no choice than to agree and tell him that yes, he looks nice. It literally has him falling asleep with a smile on his face that night, wishing that the more you tell him that, the more you’ll also convince yourself that he is indeed pretty cute, and hot, and handsome, and all that. He’d do anything to convince you that he’s the most handsome thing you’ll ever see.
God help him if you’d ever talk to him about someone other than him, any other guy. Yeah, his heart would break a little, but it’d also make him super competitive and, well, petty as hell. You could even harmlessly compliment Karl and he’d instantly get into a “but I’m better” mood. And that’s also exactly what he’d ask you, “but he’s not as cute as me, right?” You’d be taken back a little and tell him that “I think there’s no reason for that,” which should be enough to reassure him and his petty mood, but he’d just pout and grunt back “we’ll see about that.” He can’t sometimes stand anyone else than him hearing those compliments from you, especially if he was in a grumpy mood to begin with. Talking about compliments, he’d also learn any skill just to impress you. And to be better than everyone else. Simp behavior…
He’d also be sooo whiny. He’d use that whiny tone to convince you. Trying to convince you to stay over at his house for a little longer. Or trying to convince you in voice call to play one more round of a game with him on stream when you’d have million of other important things to do instead. He’d talk in that tone only for you, but he wouldn’t really care if others heard him. Usually if any of the boys would hear him, they’d definitely gag at his sweet talk. All in good fun, of course. If you were to deny him and his attempt to get you to join his team for just one more round, he wouldn’t stop whining for the majority of the stream nor the call. 30 minutes later and you can still occasionally hear his voice whining, “whyyyyy? But why would you say ‘no’? Pleaseeeee....” aaand cue to Karl gagging.
Sapnap would be so slick when it comes to spending more time with you, or initiating to spend more time with you. He’d ask you “hey, do you remember when we went to that arcade?” and you’d be a mess of confusion because, you have never been to an arcade with him, so you’d tell him with a nervous laughter “no? I don’t think that ever happened” to which he’d smirk at you and say “well, should we make it happen?” And that’s how he took to you an arcade. And to many other places. He pretends they’re dates. But shh, that’s a secret. He wouldn’t want to ruin a great friendship. He just hopes you like the slick ones if he ever was to ruin it.
Letting you borrow his hoodie and then claiming that you can keep it when you try to give it back to him? YES. This actually would happen with a couple of his hoodies. Very gentleman-y of him. You wouldn’t even have time to finish your sentence about how cold it is outside, when he already is handing you his hoodie. You’d go through the bickering back and forth of him insisting that you put it on and that he’ll be fine without it, that he’s not cold at all, and you telling him that he doesn’t need to give it to you. He knows he doesn’t, but he wants to. So let him, please. Let him enjoy the cute view (he secretly enjoys) of you in his clothes. Later on he then tells you to “just keep it”, because he has ‘plenty of hoodies anyway.’ Oh boy, he just hopes you wear it around him sometime…
Sooo quick to defend you. Sometimes it’d be a little unnecessary how strongly he’d react, but he feels that it’s now (that he’s absolutely smitten by you) in his blood to defend and protect you from anything that could make you feel bad about yourself. It could be something as simple as someone pointing out that you bite your nails as a bad habit and Sapnap would open his mouth and tell them “bro, stop. Leave them alone.” Everyone would be a little stunned and tell him to calm down, to which he’d mutter “yeah, whatever”, but no, he wouldn’t let himself calm down just yet. For the remaining of the day he’s on high alert, ready to defend you some more.
GEORGE:
My God, he’d get so giggly and blushy around you. He’d definitely argue back that no, he doesn’t, but he does. Just hearing you laugh, he’d start laughing and giggling along, even when he’d have no clue what’s so funny and what exactly it is that you’re laughing at. And the blushing! If anyone was to point out the blush on his cheeks, he’d just shake his head, roll his eyes and assure that no, his face is not red (while he is visibly red). At his weakest, he wouldn’t even be able to look at your way without blushing. How much longer exactly will he be able to hide his feelings like that?
Sometimes when he’d feel extremely bold and brave, he’d take things to Twitter. Or someone would do it for him. What I mean is that, George would look up or come across a video of let’s say, two cats cuddling or kissing, or whatsoever, and tag you and tweet “Me and you?” Twitter has a meltdown. Meltdown is an understatement. Maybe he’d get cold feet almost immediately and delete it before too many people would see it. (Too bad that there’ll still be hundreds of screenshots of it.) Sometimes someone else like Sapnap would instead tag you and George in a similar tweet and say “this @y/n and @GeorgeNotFound???” Yeah, you may be blind to the massive crush George has on you, but Sapnap isn’t…
Filming totally pointless TikToks with him... Yeah, they’re pointless and it’s his ideas that usually are just causing confusion amongst anyone watching them. There’s no plot, just vibes. But he can’t ignore how happy and comfortable he feels with you even on camera, even when you’re doing some stupid TikTok dances. And in a way, he also gets to show off your friendship, he wishes it was more than friendship, to the world. So yeah, most of the time they were spontaneous clips that we’re just filmed in the heat of the moment, a little humorous, definitely chaotic. What anyone watching would see on the screen is just two friends hanging out and having fun, but it’s totally different from what he feels. And he totally plays them back and watches them alone afterwards, smiling at his phone, smiling at you on his screen. And then checking you out a little bit too, “wow…”
Sure, he’s able to gently joke around with you, but then somehow end up feeling a little bad for it. He could offer you a snack and ask you “you want this?” and when you’d say yes, instead of feeding it to you, he’d instead eat it himself and laugh at you “hah! You can’t have it!” Soon he’d start feeling bad for you, even though there definitely was no harm done with that little prank, but he feels bad enough to go above and beyond to get you your own snacks that no one can steal away from you, not even him. He’d present them to you with a “woo-o! Look what I have!” and wow, he’d be so red in the face again when you stare at him with your mouth agape in surprise and ask him “you did this… for me?”
Whenever someone in the room told a joke, he’d always look at you first to see your reaction, your smile, your laugh in response. That’s such an adorable little habit he has formed now that he has a crush. For him, seeing you happy and content comes first. He’d also laugh at pretty much anything you’d say. Maybe it’s nervous laughter, for how he always feels a bit nervous around you. You could be saying the most normal things, such as “I took a walk today,” and he’d burst out laughing at that. Yeah, don’t even ask... He thinks laughter is the way to your heart, as dramatic as it sounds.
But he’d also have that side of him to be loud and… annoying around you. Maybe it’d be to keep your attention on him, to keep him on your mind at all times, even when he’s not with you. So he’d find the most bizarre ways to find his way into your days. Like, prank calling you out of nowhere. He’d call you and when you’d pick up, he’d just scream down the phone and then hang up. So romantic… But then he’d get you to call him back, to ask him if he has something to actually tell you, and then manage to keep you on the phone for an hour, just chit-chatting about nothing in particular. After you’d tell him that you have to go, he’d shriek at you “nooo! But I am so bored! Don’t leave me die of boredom! And what would you do without me then, hmm? What’s even more important to you than talking to me right now? Are you scheming to get rid of me? ‘Cause you won’t!”
He’d usually turn to you for advice, he really trusts you to not screw him over. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re a savior and an angel in his eyes. You could give him the worst advice and he’d still blindly follow it, just because it’s advice that came from you. And in his eyes, you could never be wrong about anything. He could text you “should I get a haircut?” and you’d tell him “sure but it’s really up to you?” and yeah, he knows it’s up to him but at least he got an opinion from you so he just texts you back “yeah I guess :]”. You best believe that he goes ahead and gets the haircut, that you technically agreed with, and only hopes you like it.
KARL:
When Karl is crushing on you, he’d be genuinely offended if you did stuff without him. Stuff that usually the two of you would do together, like watch anime, or cartoons. Or any TV -show. He’d ask you if you’ve seen the newest episode of an anime you’ve both been hooked on that just came out a few days ago, thinking that it’d be nice if you could watch it with him, but when you’d tell him that “yeah. I watched it last night,” he’d let out a frustrated sigh and tilt his head back in annoyance and tell you “nooo! I really wanted to watch it with you! Now, why would you do that and watch it without me?” Of course, he wasn’t actually mad at you, but he was really hoping he could’ve made it your thing to keep up with that anime together. So yeah, he’s a little annoyed you’d watch it without him. He likes the nights when you’re both cozy on the couch, watching it, commenting on every plot twist. Big sigh.
He’d talk to you, like a lot. Even when there was nothing to talk about. Because, in his (secret) opinion, there is always something to talk about with you. He makes conversations out of anything just to get to talk to you. You could be sitting with him in his room, looking out the window, watching birds fly by and he’d just ask you “what’s your favorite bird?” and then smile at you like he didn’t just ask the most random question and like he actually doesn’t genuinely seem interested in knowing the answer. Because he does. Well, you’d end up talking about birds, flying, nature.... and he is so happy. Because all that matters is that he’s talking to you.
He’d insist on making secret handshakes with you, that no one else knows and can learn except than you two, and then feeling so proud about them afterwards. He’d remember them even after a long time, you’d ask him how does he still remember and he would just blush and stutter, “I- it’s just kind of special. Of course I remember.”
Okay, so... Fan-fiction. He’d definitely read the fan-fictions people would write about you (there already are shippers out there, even though he has not admitted crushing on you). Maybe that’s adding fuel to the fire when he’d read them on stream. Bad idea? Maybe... He’d put so much effort into the reading, making it all feel as real as possible, voice acting to the best of his ability and all. It makes chat question though, why is he so into it? And why is he giggling every five seconds? Any possible kissing scenes... He would not even skip over them, but instead he’d make literal kissing sounds into the mic... Someone stop him.
For some reason, I can imagine him casually showing up when he knows you’re around in a shirt that says something like “if you’re reading this, I have a crush on you” and look out for your reaction. Well, yeah, you read it, and so did everyone else that talked to him that day. You laughed it off and joked that “everyone already knows that he’s a homie hopper” and so did everyone else. He’d dream about the day he could eventually confess his crush on you and also tell you that he has actually told you about it way before, and when you’d confusingly ask him when did that happen, he’d tell you that “you read my shirt, that one day when you called me out for being a homie hopper, didn’t you?” And then it’d all click.
Aww, you’d get to model for his merch! He’d ask you, no, he’d beg you. Is there really anything he’d enjoy more than seeing you in his brand new merch, before anyone else sees it? And have those pictures plastered all over his social media accounts and website? No way. Between every shot he’d take of you, he’d giggle and mutter a little “perfect”, his eyes gleaming and cheeks blushing. Every minute he’d resist the temptation to tell you how perfect you really look, because 1. he doesn’t want to get too sappy now, and 2. he still has a secret to keep... Yeah, he’s crushing on you harder than ever after that.
Whenever there’d be a group gathering and not enough seats for all of you... do I even need to say it? This man would immediately get up and give up his seat for you. A few hours later you’d call over to him, “Karl, you’ve been standing for two hours now. Don’t you want your seat back already?” and he’d shush you with a “nonsense! I’m a big man. What’s a few hours more!?” Actually, he’d give up on everything to share with you if you needed, like earbuds. Or food. Anything. If nothing, it’s always the seat he saves for you or gives up for you.
QUACKITY:
Mostly you would play Minecraft or Roblox with him, if you’re into it. And oh man, he’d enjoy that a lot. He would not leave you alone even in the game, he’d follow your character around for the majority of it. You’d turn around in the game and boom, he’s right there on your tail. He’s actually been there the whole time. When it’s not only you and him, but also other boys in the game and in the voice chat, he’d sometimes just... act like it was just the two of us talking. Listen, he’s not rude like that, but he just really likes talking to you. You just get him, he’d think. And sure, you have a similar sense of humour. He likes. He’d crack so many jokes and funny remarks throughout the whole game. Just trying to be the funniest person in the call for you. Every time someone else, like George, would laugh at his joke that he told to you, he’d shut him down with a “bro, the fuck? That joke was obviously meant for (Y/n). You weren’t supposed to get it.” All in good fun, again. He just likes having his moments with you.
Phone calls! So many phone calls. He just wants to talk to you and hear your voice. Isn’t that sweet? When it’s time to hang up, he’d tell you “ah, I’ll talk to you again soon, okay?” and you’d agree, thinking that he’ll call you again in a few days. But he calls you exactly a minute later. You’d pick up and he’d excitedly tell you “I said I’ll talk to you again soon, didn’t I? What do you mean this is ‘too soon?’”
Would, gently, make fun of you. This doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Maybe he’d try turning the tables a little bit, when people online would get a little suspicious of his sudden fondness towards you, he’d make it seem like you are actually the one crushing on him, and not the other way. Maybe that would be also a way for him to test the waters a little bit, to see how you’d react to the thought of it. He’d just make ridiculous posts online, like tweeting a poll that says “Is (Y/N) down bad or down good for me ?? Idk about you guys but they seem a little obsessed lately” or post a picture of the two of you and caption it as “after this picture was taken (Y/n) told me they like me 😳” (You definitely didn’t and the people online seemed to side with you).
The words “I like you” has actually come out of his mouth a few times around you. In a friendly way. He knows he does like you, definitely as friends, but also definitely as more than friends. But for now, liking you as a friend is the most he can do and he wants to seize it. It was when he has done a nice favour for you or given you advice on a tough situation that’s been bothering you, when you’d thank him for what he did for you, he would reply with a “yeah, of course. I fucking like you, and care about you, so..”. It was a friendly reminder and affirmation and that’s how you perceived it. So he does tell you sometimes, not just in a way that it’d make you realise he likes you more than as a friend.
So, back to him gently making fun of you, or mocking you, he’d imitate you, your gestures. I can imagine he’d pull that with any of his friends, but you are definitely not safe from that. He’d know the limits though, he’d know not to be too harsh, but you know, from spending so much time with him and the others, you’ve kind of grown into it that there’s a lot of joking around and poking fun at each other. He’d also comment on your height, like so much height talk! If you were shorter than him, then bless you, he’d love it. Always teasing you, using you as an arm rest or asking if you need a ladder. Or you could be doing absolutely nothing and he’d tease you, “what? Do I make you nervous? You have a crush on me or something?” Orrrrr you could accidentally just mispronounce a word and he’d never let you live it down. Just reminding you of it and repeating it back to you like a parrot. But, don’t take any offence, it’s just his love language.
He’d make over-the-top fan-cams or edits of you, and purposefully make them as ridiculous and exaggerated as possible. Usually he’d also include himself in them. Making sure that everyone knows that he is your #1 shipper, but also at the same time not wanting everyone to figure it out that he’s got it bad for you. He’d put them up on Twitter regardless. You’d reply to him “wtf ???” and he’d just reply back to you “😎😎 😎” He’d dare to be more bold and confident online. And I know what you’re thinking, Alex shy in real life? Well, around you, yes, a little. But online, he’d be thriving, tweeting unhinged things at you, or of you.
He definitely has some gentleman-y in him. He’d express that by, for example, offering to carry your things for you. You’re carrying a rather heavy looking bag? “I’ll take this,” he’d just announce and snatch it out of your hands. You don’t have anywhere to put your phone or keys? Swoop, same thing, but they’d go in his pocket. A few times fans has gotten glimpses of him emptying his pockets for you and handing you back your phone and other little essentials, and it was a pretty adorable sight.
WILBUR:
I mean, the way he’d even look at you gives it all away, it’d almost be a little intimidating. But he can’t help it. The way he listens to you talk and then smirks at himself, glancing piercingly at you, occasionally glancing down at his lap trying to hide his lovey-dovey smile, trying to collect his thoughts, because God, he thinks you are so adorable. I feel like his eyes can tell more than a million words could. It’s just too bad you haven’t figured out the real emotions behind his eyes.
He’d memorise pretty much every little habit of yours, no matter how little, and then slyly smirk at himself every time he’d catch you doing them. One of those days, he’ll definitely tell you that he has taken notice of them. You’d be caught off guard and ask him “you really notice them?” and there comes that smirk on his face again, as he just nods with a quiet “yeah” and then carries on the conversation like nothing happened. But not without adding on that “it’s really cute”.
A little cliche, a little predictable, but he’d definitely all of a sudden start writing down some new mysterious, a little mushy, song lyrics... He’d run them by you and ask if they’re any good, you’d then end up asking him the important question, “who is it about?” (because, how could you not ask when it’s literally a love letter in form of a song?) and he’d sigh and say it’s about “unrequited love”. You’d leave it at that, not wanting to intrude too much, since he looks and sounds so vulnerable. He’ll wish you would’ve intruded a little more though, since he literally wrote it about you, his crush! He just doesn’t leave it at one song, but writes a couple of them. All of them about you. He dreams of being able to play them at a gig, with you in the audience, telling you they’re all about you right before going on stage... Someday, he sighs.
As a person, and especially as a person who’s really crushing on you, he would be keen on sharing every little detail with his family and close friends. So, some of his family and friends would be aware of how he feels towards you. He trusts them not to spoil the secret and hey, he could never keep his mouth shut when it comes to talking about you anyway. Sometimes while hanging out with you, he’d keep checking his phone and just smiling at it, occasionally typing long paragraphs, or so it seemed to you. You’d wonder if it’s about something you said, or if there’s someone special texting him, someone who he really cares about and really wants to talk to instead. But actually, it’d be him blowing up his friends’ phones, telling them how adorable you’re being right now. He’d be doing the whole keyboard smash thing as well. That’s how gone he is for you.
Boom, his energy and happiness levels would suddenly rise whenever you’re in the room. He’d feel super playful too, like sneaking up behind you and then whisper “boo” in your ear in a low tone, trying to playfully frighten you, and when you’d turn around to face him, you’d come face to face with the brightest eyes and smile you’ve ever seen. He’s like the happiest he’ll ever be when he’s around you. No matter how many times he has already done that, he does it almost every time he catches you alone in the room. It had almost became your thing now. You’ve learned not to get as frightened anymore as you used to, and he has learned how much he really likes getting to come so close to you and getting a reaction out of you, whether it’d be you scolding him for scaring you again or laughing at his antics.
Strumming something on his guitar for you. I know, again, very cliche, very cheesy, very romantic, very predictable of him, but no, he doesn’t do that just for anybody. But you’re very special. (Even though you don’t know how special yet). And to spice things up a bit, he’ll make it a little more lighthearted, he’d literally play you memes, or vines. Yeah, for example, you know that “I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you bitch” vine? Mayyyybe he’d replace the word ‘bitch’, with some platonic pet name, if he was feeling generous, lol. But yeah, just not to make things seem too serious, he’d try to make you laugh with those amusing private performances, and also try to flex a little with his guitar playing, of course. If you’d admire him in his element, strumming away on his guitar, a little too much, he’d get super cocky and yeah... Cocky Wilbur is a whole different breed.
Everything you’d ever feel embarrassed about, he’d embrace it. He’d never let you dwell on something embarrassing that happening to you for too long. If you’d totally mess up your words, or stumble and fall over, or be caught talking or singing to yourself, he’d reassure you that he finds it “very cute” and not embarrassing at all. In some situations, if you’d mess up and embarrass yourself in front of a lot of people, or in public, he’d intentionally mess up with you, just to take the attention away from you and make you feel better about it. You’d fall over? He’d make himself trip too. You’d bump against a glass door? He’ll be right there behind you to walk into it as well. He’d just never let you feel like there’s ever anything worth feeling too embarrassed over and, in his thoughts, how could anyone as adorable as you even be embarrassing? If anything, it’s just cute.
FOOLISH:
Oh man, he’d be an awkward one at first when he’d realize his strong feelings towards you, but he does get a lot smoother with time. And, he’s trying his best, okay.
He’d also be someone who would find it very important to make you laugh lots, be an entertainer just for you. Because he doesn’t think there is anything more attractive than someone he’s able to laugh with over the most ridiculous things, things that always wouldn’t even make sense to others. And yeah, also seeing you laugh is attractive to him, even more attractive if you’re laughing at a joke he made. Basically just whenever you’d be hanging out, it’d be an ongoing urge for him: must make you laugh. Sometimes it’d be him just squatting down to your level and starting to make random noises in your ear. That’s literally his sense of humour... And it’d be even more hilarious for him, if you’d do the same back to him. The most random noises he could think of, chirping, squeaking, beeping.... anything. Or suddenly starting up a game of tag with you, running around chasing each other, and the only way to tag each other was to tickle them. He’d squeal and wiggle like a worm when you would tickle him. It’s always something silly with him...
Protective Foolish would suddenly become a thing when he’d realize his feelings for you, and also realize that there’s nothing more he wants to do than protect you and your feelings. Keep you away from anything or anyone that could make you feel even a little uncomfortable, or hurt. His way of protecting and defending you would be just a chunk of sarcasm coming out of his mouth. He’d turn sarcastic any time when he’d feel like it’s time to protect you. If there was someone badmouthing you, he’d put on the most spiteful face you could think of and with his voice dripping with sarcasm, he’d ask them “is it so? Is that what you think, now? Was there a little shit talking there, or what?” You could tell that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to do this, but he wouldn’t give up. He’d be so intimidating, with his tone and height and all, that he could get an apology out of anyone. And he usually does get the people badmouthing you to apologize to you, while Foolish just stands there with his arms crossed examining that it’s a genuine apology, feeling like he has accomplished another mission of his, which is to make sure that in the end your feelings are unharmed.
Now, he’d be definitely someone who would mess up his hair a little on purpose, in hopes that you would fix it for him and smother the strands sticking up back in place. He’s so desperate for some touch from you that he’d go to such extreme lengths. God forbid if anyone would catch him doing that, he’d be so embarrassed. You’d turn around from him for a few seconds, which would give him time to very aggressively ruffle his hair with his hands and when you’d look back at him, his hair would suddenly look like it’s been through a tornado, and so you’d laugh a little and ask him “what happened? What’s going on with your hair?” and then laugh some more because he looks so ridiculous. He’d chuckle a little bit too, a little out of embarrassment, because he still can’t believe himself for the things he’s doing just to have you touch him and pay a little extra-attention to him. But regardless, he just shrugs and bends down to your level and asks you “I don’t know what happened? What? Is it bad? Fix it for me?” and you’d be a little taken aback because, did he really just ask you to do that? But of course you’d agree to it.
Every little thing or favour you’d do for him, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem to you, he’d appreciate the heck out of them, and you. Because, was there a better feeling for him than having the person he truly, genuinely likes, to be willing to help him out with anything? He’d thank you a trillion times, and a trillion more if he could. Something as simple as you turning on the coffee machine for him, he’d tell you “seriously, thank you. That helped me like, a tons. It saved my day,” and you’d giggle and reply to him “you’re welcome. But all I did was just press a button.” He wouldn’t have that belittling, so he’d be a little more dramatic just for you and proceed to tell you how much easier it made his day, “no, like seriously, that was the best thing you could’ve ever done for me.” Okay, then.
A crushing Foolish would be so sweet that he’d totally blew off his other plans to be with you instead. You’d know that he’s been looking forward to seeing this movie with a couple of his friends that one night, but when he’d become aware of how you have no plans for that night, he’d declare how he’d rather spend the night with you anyways. You’d tell him that “Foolish, you don’t really have to do this. I thought you were supposed to go the mov-?” and he’d interrupt you “now, that’d a silly thing for me to do, I don’t know why you’re thinking like I’d leave you alone. That’s crazy thinking right there.” And so, you’d just settle for smiling coyly at him and accepting that he’s not going anywhere, and that for some reason (that’s still unclear to you), he’d even blow off his friends for you. And he’d do it over and over again. And he does.
PUNZ:
Ouch, he’s a tough one to get to. But once you breakthrough the walls and the sort of intimidating facade he has, he is all soft for his crush.
Usually he’d be a little reserved and keep to himself, maybe a little closed off. But whenever you’d be around, it’s a whole different thing. He has never smiled so much than he did that one day when you hung around, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other boys who were also there. Karl would text you about it after you had all gone home and ask you “What did you to punz ?? This man won’t stop cheesin” and Quackity as well would text you “punz today be like ‘😃😃’”. You’d make him happy, you’d just make him love life, just purely by existing and especially when you’d exist in his presence. He’s also extra observant around you, and so you’d catch him looking at you a lot. He’d just rest his chin on his hand and not take his eyes off of you. You’d wonder if there’s something wrong, something on your face perhaps, by the intense way he’s staring at you, but no, he’s just admiring. So let him.
Every picture of himself he’d consider posting on social media, he’d send them to you first and ask you “u like??”. Kind of like a test run. He’d do it ritually almost each time, but if you ever were to call him out for it, asking how come you’re the one he sends them to, he’d claim that it’s just all a coincidence. Sure is... But you better reply back to him as soon as you can, or he would start feeling a little insecure and think if you really like them, because if you do, why haven’t you replied yet? It’s been 20 seconds. Yeah, so, he’s a little clingy too. He just wants to talk to you as much as possible, have you see as much of him as possible, from all of his best angles as well, and maybe fish for a few compliments? Maybe. After you’d reply to him “yes, it’s good”, he’d text you back “nice. now your turn”, and you’d ask him that it’s your turn for exactly what? He’ll tell you then that it’s only fair that you send him a picture of yourself too in that exact moment. And so, it kind of really then becomes a whole ritual that after approving of his picture, you send him one back with a thumbs up or something.
Unlike with anyone else, now that he has taken a massive liking towards you, he’d actually share his food with you. And that’s major. Or, even more major and better, he’d sometimes get you food without you even having to ask, or even without mentioning that you’re hungry. He’d order takeaway for himself, or so you’d think, but he’d then turn up with an extra large portion of food and you’d ask him “damn, are you feeding the whole town?” He’d chuckle a little and then casually tell you that “nah, it’s um, it’s for you.” At that, you could’ve fallen off your seat. Let’s call it his love language to serve you even when you don’t ask for anything.
This man, he would sometimes not show up to plans if you weren’t there. He’d tell his friends that he is only willing to come if you’ll be there too. And if they tell him that you’re not going to be there, then, too bad. He simply just wouldn’t come. Any plans that you’d make without him, he’d call them ‘boring’ and ‘lame’. Sooo, he only is your good time?
#mcyt x reader#dream x reader#sapnap x reader#georgenotfound x reader#karl x reader#quackity x reader#foolish x reader#punz x reader#wilbur soot x reader#dream smp x reader#mcyt headcanons#mcyt imagine#dream smp imagines#dream smp headcannon#mcyt fanfiction#wilbur soot imagine#quackity imagines#sapnap imagine#georgenotfound imagine#dreamwastaken x reader#karl jacobs x reader
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Meeting Mick
In the centre of London, a 22-year-old junior office clerk named Gareth found himself trawling through his email inbox once again. For such a young lad, he was already fatigued with the tediousness of routine.
He had been conventional all his life, descending from a lineage of monotony. His father was an accountant who was coming up to retirement - a greyish man who wore greyish suits, his grandfather had been an accountant and he was pretty sure his great grandfather had also been in the profession. “It’s in our DNA, numbers run in our blood,” the words of his dad would echo around his head.
As a teenager, Gareth tried to rebel, well he put a bit of effort in to trying to rebel. First of all he let his hair grow, then he got a number 2 at the barbers. He bought a pair of DMs with some of his savings but never wore them for fear of what his mother and father might say. Once he came home ten minutes late for dinner, which was enough for his father to take him on one side and lecture him on the importance of timekeeping.
Anyway, let's get back to the present. Gareth got home early evening after another dull day in the office. He prepared a nice healthy meal of grilled salmon and steamed vegetables. After washing up, he decided to check his social media feeds, not that he was a prolific user of social networks, but at least they were a doorway to 'other worlds' that offered some escape.
As he was scrolling through Tumblr one profile in particular caught his attention. The profile belonged to someone calling himself 'Mick', an older man who proudly identified as a Skinhead Boss.
Gareth just stared at the profile picture; he studied it from top to bottom; his overarching thought was that this was an older guy who didn't give a f**k. He lost himself staring at the shiny black boots, which contrasted with the white laces and the arms covered in tattoos. Gareth then clicked on the profile and immediately pressed the 'follow' button.
He scrolled through Mick's blog and found himself getting more and more aroused at the pictures, which included from videos of lads getting their heads shaved, pictures of skinheads in full skinhead gear, groups of skinheads drinking and even photos of skins getting pierced and tattooed. The posts included many skinhead transformation stories as well as a few articles about skinhead culture, which Gareth read with interest.
Gareth really wanted to message Mick, and he pointed the cursor but kept hesitating because, to be honest, he felt a bit stupid. The voices in his head told him not to bother, Mick is a hard, tattooed skinhead and why would he want to chat with someone as boring and vanilla as you, Gareth?
After deliberating for many minutes whilst continuing to look over Mick's blog, he managed to silence the voices momentarily finding the resolve to send a message. He clicked on the icon and noticed the green dot, so Mick was probably online. After a lot of thought he decided to keep the first message short, "hey there, love the blog, love the gear," and pressed the send icon. No, he thought in a moment of regret and as the voices reasserted themselves, why did I type that? After a few minutes, and much to Gareth's surprise, the number 1 appeared on the messages side-menu. Expecting a "get lost" or "Eff off back to your boring, mundane life," he clicked to see what the reply was.
“Oi oi m8 thx. I didn’t think I’d be your type. Just seen your profile pic you look like just a conventional clean-cut lad." Reading this, Gareth was rock hard. He’d never spoken to a skinhead before and the thought of chatting with one was already driving him crazy. He thought very carefully about what to type next. “Ha ha, well yes, but skinheads - they're something else,” and he pressed send. Mick replied straight away “Thanks. I know you’d look good with your head shaved, wearing a nice tight pair of bleachers and all booted up lad.”
Gareth had often wondered what his life would be like if he had taken a different path maybe as a tradesman or a workie, even a punk or skinhead but it would never work, plus what would his parents and friends say. He quickly typed a reply, “Ah, I’d love to but I don’t think I could - I’d be a terrible skinhead,” and clicked on the send icon.
Gareth was starting to feel stupid again for initiating the conversation with Mick - but before he cold wallow in his foolishness he received another message, which had a much firmer tone to it “Listen lad, you WILL make a perfect skinhead. I CAN make it happen m8. I'll be in the White Hart pub on Grange Road at tonight 8 - be on time. If not, we won't chat again. It's a one time offer."
Having read the message, Gareth noticed the green light disappear - Mick must have signed out.
Gareth didn’t know what to do. This skinhead he’d spoken to for all of five minutes was willing to take him 'under his wing' and make all his dreams come true. Was this a set-up? Was it all one big joke? Was he being foolish turning up in a pub some stranger had mentioned
In that moment Gareth was 'paralysed' Should he carry on as Mr Conventional or take this opportunity to escape the monotony and drudgery of routine? Well there was only one way to find out.
After nearly an hour of procrastination he decided it was worth the risk and he would go and meet Mick. After all nothing was going to happen in pub full of customers? With a mix of excitement and apprehension, Gareth put on a pair of jeans, a plan blue t-shirt and a his coat. He opened Google Maps and searched for The White Hart and followed the directions.
After a twenty minute bus ride and ten minute walk he arrived at The White Hart. He paused for a moment. This looked like any other pub he'd seen in the city. Was he really going to enter a pub frequented by skinheads? Was he about to meet the man he'd been messaging on Tumblr? He was about to discover that this pub, adorned with memorabilia reflecting the skinhead subculture, would become the backdrop for his transformation.
He walked through the double doors and entered the tap room. He was immediately met by the sight of three skinheads standing at the bar. He checked them out; they all had shaved heads, some dressed in green or black bomber jackets, some just in t-shirts or Fred Perry polos and wearing skinhead boots; some black some red/brown.
Standing for a moment, just inside the doors (close enough to make a quick retreat should it be necessary), he took in the atmosphere. He looked around the room, trying not to catch anyone's attention. However, a few of the skins had noticed the new lad enter. Gareth was aware of several faces looking in his director, some seeming to sneer at him in contempt. He imagined they were thinking "what are you doing in our place?" After all he was a normal looking, average 22 year old in the middle of a pub occupied by tattooed, pierced, and booted skinheads.
Gareth got a sense that tension was building, but at the same time he was very aroused. He'd never been so close to one skinhead, let alone a pub full of pretty hot looking skins. He glanced at his watch - it was almost 8 o'clock - so finding Mick was his priority.
Gareth was feeling intimidated by the many eyes focussed on him. Believing Mick would be somewhere in the pub meant he was able to dig deep and find the courage not to run out through the door through which he entered. As he walked around, he noticed a skinhead standing at the bar smoking a cigarette. He always thought that smoking was banned indoors - and that included pubs - but this skinhead didn't seem to care. "You look out of place my lad - don't think you want to be in here!" he said taking the cig out of his mouth.
"Well, erm, I, I'm supposed to be meeting someone here." Gareth stuttered a reply taking in the sight in front of him.
"Oh, is that so?" The skinhead started to smile. "And who is this person you're supposed to be meeting or do you just like being in a room filled with skinheads?"
Gareth was getting even more aroused. "No, erm Mick," he initially replied meekly, then getting his confidence back, "he's called Mick".
Suddenly Gareth heard a booming voice to his right, which he knew was aimed at him. “Boy, I've been waiting."
Gareth headed over to where the voice originated, very aware that the skinhead he'd just been talking to was still staring at him as he walked away.
"Good job you turned up lad." Gareth was mesmerised at seeing Mick in person - as if in a trance, he walked towards the man that would permanently change his life. With each step forward, he took in Mick's weathered face, shaved head, tattooed arms and, holding a metal baseball bat in his left hand. "Boy, I thought you might chicken out." Finally standing next to Mick, he laughed nervously; he actually was scared-stiff but at the same time he was so turned on by this older skinhead. “You wanna be a proper skinhead - just like ALL the lads around you, don’t you?"
Gareth turned around and looked around the pub - no one was staring at him now. Everywhere he turned he saw skinheads laughing, chatting, getting the beers in and even playing pool - it was the camaraderie that caught his attention.
All his life he'd been a 'lost sheep'; he'd been desperate for the kind of kinship he was witnessing. Yes this is what he wanted, and he would do whatever it takes to be accepted. He turned back to Mick, and more certain than he'd been about anything in his life, "Yes, YES, I want to be a skinhead."
"Good lad," Mick cracked a smile for the first time since they'd met in person. "I can make it come true boy. First, I should warn you that once you say yes, there’s no going back. So, you're absolutely sure about this?”
Gareth had never been more certain in his life, oh and had never felt like this before (not to mention the forming bulge that was hard to miss). “Yes, I really want this”.
Mick was relieved, he made it a mission to bring new lads into the skinhead world “good choice, I’ll make a proper skinhead out of you boy. When I'm done with you, you'll be a proud skinhead, following the skinhead code.” Gareth nearly erupted in his trousers, he couldn’t believe this was happening. Right seat yourself down, I'll get the beers in an we'll talk about your skinhead transformation.
In a matter of minutes, Mick returned accompanied by two other skinheads who sat down alongside Gareth. "This is Charlie and this is his boi Chris. Chris once had a boring life - he was a going to be a lawyer but he hated his life. He met first Charlie on Grindr and now they're inseparable; Chris now works for the council in the cleansing department. Lads, this is Gareth," he said, nodding in Gareth's direction."
Gareth nervously picked up his glass that had been put in front of him and took a big gulp of the beer. One gulp turned into two, three, four and in no time, he'd almost finished his pint. In doing so he'd plucked up the courage to initiate a conversation about what life would be like as a skinhead.
Mick was about to start waxing lyrical about his life when Charlie jumped in, having just finished his pint, "tell the lad how long you've been a skinhead Mick," turning to Gareth, "Mick also knows what it means to be a skin and how we watch out for one another. C'mon Chris let's get the next round in."
As they chatted over three more pints Mick regaled his life experiences and the subculture he had embraced since he started secondary school. He shared stories of camaraderie, rebellion, and talked affectionately about the unique sense of identity that exists within the skinhead community. Despite the age gap, a connection had formed between the two. Mick decided it was time to begin Gareth's transformation. "Right lad, follow me."
Mick put on what Gareth would learn is his black Harrington, he picked up his baseball bat and headed through a set of double doors. Gareth followed a few paces behind Mick heading down a short dimly lit corridor.
They walked through the door and entered a room with black and white tiles on the floor, three sides of the room had walls covered in pictures of skinheads, the other wall was simply a floor to ceiling mirror. In the middle of the room was a barber's chair.
"Right lad, take your top off"
Without a second thought Gareth complied. "Get in the chair." It was an order, not a request, which had to be obeyed. Gareth was about to take the first step and most symbolic stage his transformation to a skinhead.
Sitting in the old barber's chair, Gaz could only watch as Mick walked over to the shelf and picked up a set of clippers. Mick removed the guard that was covering the cutting end and turned to Gareth, ""this is it lad; in a few minutes Gareth will be gone. I'm going to transform you into Gaz - my Skinhead boi."
With that Mick pressed the on button on the side of the clippers; immediately he heard the familiar 'clack' sound echo around the room. Mick pressed the clippers into the nape and worked his way up the lad's head. With a deliberate slowness, Gareth's hair was stripped away. With each stroke, inches of hair fell on his chest and on the floor around the chair until it was all gone.
Gareth was more turned on than he'd been; at any time in his life. Nothing he'd done in his 22 years to date had resulted in the mild sweating, butterflies and raised heart-rate that he was experiencing as he stared into the mirror watching this tattooed thug denuding his head.
Mick could tell Gaz was enjoying the experience as he heard a little pleasure moan escape from his mouth. He ran the clippers over Gaz's head at least three times, ensuring there was only stubble left. Mick noticed Gaz staring in the mirror - it wasn't all he noticed. "Like what you see boi?"
Gareth simply nodded - his brain simply couldn't process the combination of his feelings and the sight of his shaved head in the mirror. He was about to touch his head when Mick interrupted, "No you don't boi. I'll tell you when you can touch your head."
Mick then walked over to the sink and turned on the hot tap. When the water was steaming hot, he grabbed a towel and wet it thoroughly. He squeezed the towel removing the excess water and placed the very towel on Gaz's head; leaving it for a few minutes.
This gave him time to grab a can of shaving foam. He completely covered his boi's head in foam. He grabbed a new Mach III razor and started the next stage of the transformation. It took a few minutes to shave away the stubble from his boi's head and make him as smooth and shiny as a baby.
Gaz sat there frozen in disbelief as each stroke of the razor revealed another patch of scalp completely void of hair. As Mick finished up, he produced a handheld mirror to show the back and sides: “what do you think boi?”
Gaz didn’t recognise the person staring back at him - he was starting to look like a dumb thug who’d grown up on a council estate and spent years getting in trouble with the law. Not some twenty-something who had grown up the perfect, but very boring, nuclear family. “Yeah, this is perfect, just how I wanted to look”.
"It's only the beginning of your transformation lad. Now we need to get you dressed. Stay there." Mick ordered and walked over to a cupboard ar the back of the room.
Gaz didn't want to move. He was transfixed by the skinhead he saw in the mirror - so much so that he didn't hear Mick calling to him.
"Get over here boi!"
Gaz came back to reality and jumped out of the chair. He walked over to where Mick was standing. It was a cupboard full of boots, jeans with bleach splashes, t-shirts, polo shirts and bomber jackets.
For the second time in as many hours, Gaz was enthralled by the content in the cupboard - as he stared at the many pairs boots on the shelf he was almost drooling. "Right lad," Mick said jerking Gaz out of his boot gazing, "we can get you started with what's in here. You'll need to get more in time but that can wait till you start yer new job."
With that Mick began to outfit his boi in classic skinhead attire. He started by handing Gaz a t-shirt wich the boy slipped over his head, then came a pair of very tight fitting jeans with bleach splashes - bleachers as they are generally known. As he put them on he could sense blood rushing towards his groin area. Seeing this Mick smiled; Gaz smiled back sensing he was blushing. As he finished buttoning his bleachers, he saw the jeans had been cut off just below the knee - he would soon find out why. Next, Gaz was handed a pair of white(ish) football socks. "Get them on your feet."
As Gaz was putting his socks, he looked up when another skinhead entered the room. He was a bit younger than Mick but older than Gaz; his arms covered in tattoos and a huge ring in his nose and both ears pierced, "is he ready Mick?"
"Not quite Al, he's got his boots to put on an lace properly." He turned to Gaz, "for now you need to pull your socks over your knees." When Gaz had done as instructed, Mick put a pair of black 20 hole boots with white laces in front of him. He sat down and began talking him through tightly ladder-lacing his boots, first the right foot then the left.
In no time at all Gaz had ladder-laced his boots.
"Stand up lad - look in the mirror!" Mick instructed, "how does that feel?" He didn't need to ask - the lump in the boi's bleachers was there for all to see.
"i...," Gaz was stuck for words. After a few moments he spurted, "I can't believe what I'm looking at," as Gaz found himself feeling a sense of belonging he had never experienced before.
Mick was pleased with the transformation so far. He offered Gaz a cigarette. “Sorry, I don’t smoke”. Mick threw Gaz against the wall “lesson one, you don’t get the choose what you do and don’t do anymore. Skinheads smoke and now you're a skinhead so that means you're a smoker too. I want you to smoke a pack a day boi”.
For the first time since he walked into the pub Gaz was intimidated - especially knowing there was another skinhead in the room watching. Gaz gingerly took the smoke from Mick and lit up. It tasted awful and he was trying his best not to cough after every inhale.
“You’ll get use to it boi. Give it a few weeks you won’t be able to get out of bed without sparking up” Mick laughed. This is Al by the way. He's a tattooist - he's going to make your transformation more permanent.
"Right Al, he's ready for the next stage."
Al smiled, "come slong me boi."
Gaz followed Mick and Al out of the room, and out of a side door in the pub. Even though he'd worn his Doc Martens on a number of occasions, walking in 20-hole boots felt so different. To start with the leather was new and the soles of were solid and heavy. Mick and Al were heading off and Gaz had trouble keeping up. Eventually the two older skinheads arrived at a tattoo studio, with Gaz arriving a few seconds later.
"Right here we are. It's time to finish the job. Al's gonna give you your ink and we'll get some metal into you too,"
"Yes boi," interjected Al, "in the chair, take your shirt off and we can get started."
Gaz took off his shirt and sat in the chair.
"I think you should light up boi," Mick instructed, holding out a pack of cigs. Gaz took one and lit up. Even though it was only his second cigarette, he was doing better at not coughing every time he inhale.
"Right Mick, so just as we talked about earlier?" Al asked.
"Yes, just the ones he can't hide - the ones on his knuckles, hands, neck for today, then over the next few visits he can get his sleeves done and then you can work on his back.
Gaz's heartbeat was rising rapidly as he was listening to what was about to happen. The transformation so-far was reversible, but the moment the tattooing started there would be no turning back. Then all of a sudden he felt a wave of calm as he realised he wasn't forcibly being transformed. His lifetime wish was become a reality and Mick and Al were facilitating his deep desires.
Al set up his equipment and began. As the needle buzzed, skinhead symbols etched themselves onto Gaz's skin – a commitment to a lifestyle that was rapidly becoming his own. The letters S-K-I-N and H-E-A-D were tattooed onto his knuckles. Next, a swallow was tattooed on the back of his left hand, followed by his right hand. Then Al began the more painful and time consuming work of tattooing a spiderweb onto the left side of Gaz's neck and a pair of red DMs on the right hand side. Both would be positioned too high for Gaz to cover them up - even if that's what he wanted to do - and he didn't, ever!
Piercings followed suit, adding a further edge to Gaz's appearance. His ears were adorned with small gold hoops, then his nipples were pierced - wincing at the pain as the needle went through the sensitive skin.
"One more for today boi and then we are done. If you thought your nipple piercings hurt, then you'll really feel it when we get your septum done."
Mick wasn't wrong. However, compared to the continuous, vibrating pain of being tattooed, Gaz would describe the septum piercing as a quick, sharp pain. In no time at all he had a 14 gauge septum piercing with a gold ring though it.
"Your nose is going to be tender to touch and will probably take a couple of week to heal." Al told Gaz. We'll look at changing to a slightly bigger ring as Mick wants in a couple of months, that's provided it has healed well."
Mick walked over to Gaz and grabbed him roughly. Mick pressed his body up against Gaz and kissed him lightly on the lips. Then he thrust his tongue harshly into Gaz's mouth. Gaz had never kissed a man before, in fact he hadn't kissed many girls before. So he just let Mick take charge. Gaz found he loved the smokey taste of Mick's mouth too - imagining that his would taste the same as he become a 20-a-day smoker.
In that single moment Gaz felt a sense of liberation that transcended his previous life. There would be no return for once ordinary office worker. Instead, with Mick's guidance, Gaz secured his first manual job. Being a workie on a building site was a fitting occupation for his newfound identity.
In the end, Gareth's (now Gaz's) transformation went beyond skin-deep. He found a sense of purpose and community that resonated with him on a profound level. Mick, the seasoned skinhead mentor, had unwittingly become Gaz's Alpha guiding the 22 year old through a journey of self-discovery that led him to embrace a life that, just weeks before, had been unimaginable.
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────────── 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐜.𝐟
ONE SHOT !
they did say that when two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find a way back to each other. however, are you ready to open your heart again to a person who has broken it in the past?
SEQUEL TO : you’re losing me
───────────────────────────
“They say that your first love never dies. You can put out the flame but not the fire”
It was true, for me atleast. I’d be lying if I said that I don’t love Conrad, because I do, I still do — no matter how much he had hurt me before, a piece of my heart is still beating for him.
Time, curious time
Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs
Were there clues I didn't see?
And isn't it just so pretty to think
It wasn’t easy to move on, he made me feel things — things that I never felt before. He was different, he just was.
For two years, I had done my best to put the past behind me, but still, I would often find myself thinking of Conrad and wondering what could have been.
Until one day, when an unexpected text message popped up on my phone. It was from Conrad, of all people. Confused but curious, I opened the message. The only thing that it said was 'Are you free today?’ Could he possibly still care about me, after all this time?
A string that pulled me
Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar
Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire
Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons
One single thread of gold tied me to you
I thought back to the words we had said to each other; the heartache that had been so painful that it had taken so long for me to move on. But still, here he was, wanting to see me. Was I willing to open my heart up to someone who had broken it so badly in the past?
───────────────────────────
Conrad asked me if we could meet at the beach near Cousins. I dont know why why I said yes, maybe I wanted closure — maybe I wanted to hear his side.
I stood on the dock, the ocean air getting caught in my hair. Although the sun was out and the sky a brilliant blue,
I couldn't bring myself to take in the beauty of the day. I was too consumed with my thoughts, instead glancing around, distracted and flustered.
I saw Conrad — standing at the end of the shore, a better vision than the view of the ocean I had become accustomed to.
I swallowed hard as I stared into his eyes - the same eyes that had shattered my heart months ago. He looked different. Older, strong, different from the man I had said goodbye to all those months ago.
But there he was, standing in front of me, arms crossed — pain pierced through me like a hot knife as I remembered fond memories I shared with him. Memories that were now tarnished by the hurt he had caused me.
I took a deep breathe and stepped forward — walking towards him.
“Hey Conrad,” I said tentatively.
He looked up with surprise, then quickly looked away. “Hey y/n,” he muttered.
“It’s been so long huh?” Conrad asked. I looked at him before answering “Yeah, It has. I just want to get to the point already. Why did you want to see me?” I asked him.
His eyes met mine, filled with regret and longing. "I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice laced with raw emotion.
I listened, my heart warring between the past and the present. Memories flooded my mind - stolen kisses, whispered promises, and the crushing pain of betrayal. And yet, beneath it all, the flicker of what once was remained.
"You broke me," I replied, my voice steadying.
Conrad reached out to gently touch my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "Please, Y/n," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "What I did was fucked up, you didn’t deserve that — you didn’t deserve to be ignored, I-I should’ve paid more attention to you”
"I messed up, I admit it. I was a fool to let you go. I've regretted it every single day, and I wish I could turn back time and change things." He said, taking a step closer.
I blinked back tears, trying to resist the pull I felt towards him. "Conrad, it's not that easy. You hurt me so deeply, and I've spent so long trying to heal." I said, backing away from him.
"I know," he murmured, his voice cracked with emotion. "But I'm here now, and all I want is a chance to make things right, to prove to you that I've changed. I want to be better for you.”
His words tugged at my heartstrings, and I felt a glimmer of hope. Could we really find a way back to each other? Was it possible to rebuild what had been broken?
Time, wondrous time
Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies
And it's cool, baby, with me
The sound of crashing waves filled the silence between us, punctuating the weight of the moment. I looked into Conrad's eyes, searching for sincerity, I’m scared — scared of risking again. Scared of getting hurt again.
“I-I don’t know, Conn-“ I said looking down, he walked closer — his hands reaching for mine.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, just.. just let me love you. Let me be a better man for you.” he paused “I’ll wait for you”
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
I looked up at him, I saw the glint in his eyes — he was genuine, his voice sounded hopeful — his eyes filled with love. It wouldn’t hurt if I tried again right? maybe now, it’ll be right.
#Spotify#tsitp#tsitp conrad#conrad fisher#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x you#conrad fisher fanfic#conrad fisher fic#conrad fisher x reader#the summer i turned pretty#tsitp imagine#tsitp fic#tsitp fanfic#conrad fisher fluff#conrad fisher x y/n#conrad fisher angst#abtconrad fics#taylor swift
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.1
As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao
“Have any of you seen Seven?”
That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good.
That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.
It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd.
Or not.
The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs.
You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.
You’re growing frustrated.
With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you.
“Hey, MC!”
You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.
Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.
“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”
The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.
Until your phone buzzes.
You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.
Seven: Roof
You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.
You: Thought you died.
Another buzz.
Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.
You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text.
You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.
Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy
Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?
What do you call that?
You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming.
Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.
Another buzz.
Seven: Bring some bears please
You: Bears?
Seven: Beers. Whatever.
Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.
Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone.
You: Where am I going?
Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.
Seven: lol
You: I will kill you.
Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me
You: Seven Lawless
Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof.
You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers.
You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’
Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion
Seven: (trust me)
Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone.
“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.
Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin.
Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack.
“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."
Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”
Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.”
You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off.
"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."
Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”
You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”
Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”
“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”
Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little.
“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.
They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”
You nudge them. “Say it.”
They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”
Oh.
You expected many things, but not that.
Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!
Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”
You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.
“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.”
Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“
“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”
Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say.
They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”
You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of.
You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you.
And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to.
“I’m not lonely with you, though.”
Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”
Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment.
You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”
They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”
“What!”
“Too much attention.”
“You’re a performer?!”
They raise a finger. “That’s different.”
“Oh, please—“
Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.
You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.
“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”
You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.
Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.
So…different.
“I don’t think I should.”
That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous.
They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”
“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.
They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”
You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.
Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”
“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.
“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”
You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“
Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.”
“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin.
“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”
You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”
Silence.
Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”
“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words.
It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.”
You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids.
But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway.
“Then don’t use words.”
Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them.
Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it.
Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.
Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.
What is happening...?
Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck.
Messy seems about right.
Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.
Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.
You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.
They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss.
Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.
"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.
"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.
Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."
You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.
The horrible, awkward silence.
See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.
“Uh…”
“Er…”
They slowly drop their hand from your neck.
And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass.
“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”
“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”
“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”
It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”
“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.
“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”
Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.
Until both of you do.
“That—“
“We—“
Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness.
Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny.
“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”
Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”
Your eyes widen. “I—“
“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you.
You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”
“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.
You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”
“Seven.”
Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.”
You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?
“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'
You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.
It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.
By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”
Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder.
Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.
The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear.
“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.
“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”
“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”
“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.
You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.
“You okay?”
Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”
“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”
“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”
You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.
You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.
“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab.
“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.
“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”
“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.
Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.
Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.
And that thought comforts you.
#drabble#seven lawless#writing#AHHHHH#ripping my hair out#it was fun writing a Not Angry Seven#It was also weird though#writing a seven that's friends with mc#snores
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i feel like Sarah has very strong feelings about the Harrison Butker drama. 🥲
i know i certainly do !!
She certainly does.
When the video starts making the rounds, she sends it to Quinn with the message, Just letting you know, if you feel this way, we need to be done.
He sees the message after a 2nd round practice and immediately flips out and calls her.
“Hey.”
“Don’t ‘hey’ me when you just threatened to break up.”
“I…didn’t?” she asks hesitantly, unsure of what he was talking about.
“You just sent me a message. ‘We need to be done?’”
“Quinn, did you read the whole message?”
“I…” he pauses, clicking it back open, “no. I see that now. But what is this?”
“Did you watch the video?”
“No.”
“Watch the video, then call me back,” she says before hanging up.
So he does, grimacing the whole time it’s playing. His mother taught him better than this asshat.
When she answers, he cuts in before she can even say hello, “Harrison Butker is an asshole.”
She giggles.
“Why would you even think I might feel like that? Have I ever made you feel that way?”
“No.”
“Then why would you threaten to breakup?”
“I didn’t threaten to break up with you, Quinn.”
“Your message says, ‘if you feel this way, we need to be done.’”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“How else could you mean it? You know I don’t feel like that. You’ve met my mom.”
“I know…” this was not going the way she thought it would. Truth be told, part of her had wondered if he felt a little like this just by virtue of his job and the people he was around.
“I mean,” shit. Now what was supposed to be something funny was turning into something far more serious. “I guess I just mean, I know in the pro sports world this is a really common view.”
He hums, understanding sparking, “I know some of the guys feel that way,” he says, “but I don’t, and I hope I never gave you that impression.”
“You didn’t, not really. I think it was mostly wondering how much of it had rubbed off, you know?”
He didn’t know. You couldn’t grow up with a woman like Ellen Weinberg as your mother and not have some pretty feminist views. She talked to them often about how much she wanted to play pro sports, but couldn’t by her virtue of being a woman, and that women and girls were just as smart and athletic and worthy of respect as men.
“Sarah, I know pro sports are pretty misogynistic, but you know me and you know my mom and you know I don’t feel that way. You have way more potential than just being,” he had to stop himself from saying my, “a wife, and mom. You’re smart and I love that about you, and if this asshat said this at your graduation, I’d seriously consider punching him in the face.”
She giggles, and he can hear tears in her voice.
“Where’s Huggy?” someone asks on the other side of the door to the room he’d closed himself in. Some kind of office, maybe.
“I have to go,” he said, “but I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Before she can talk herself out of it, she messages Ellen, Just want to say thanks for raising a good man.
This was written in about 15 minutes, so please forgive any mistakes or tonal inconsistencies with the rest of the series.
I loved writing out this little blurb, and making Quinn the feminist hero of my dreams. I hope you enjoy it, too.
#quinn & sarah snapshots#asks#answered#quinn hughes#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x oc#quinn hughes fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine
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prompt 41 with derek morgan please because i swear we don’t get enough fics😤 thank you :)
‘wait you’re being serious?’ derek morgan x reader
trigger warning: mentions of sex
**
you and derek had been seeing eachother for just under 6 months now, it had been a while and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet, you hadn’t even really done much. just a blow job here and there. you were busy people, derek working in the fbi and you being. firefighter. they were stressful and time consuming jobs. so the time you both did spend together the majority of the time you went on dates and did things together to make the most out of the time.
you had noticed derek getting a little bit riled up at smaller things recently, certain touches, you wearing something a little bit more revealing to bed, you could see he was getting wound up, and you thought maybe you should talk to him about it.
so when you got the message that he would be home when you finished your shift at the firehouse you were ecstatic. you couldn’t wait to see your handsome man. after all you hadn’t seen him in a week. you were counting down the minutes until you shift ended. thank god it was a slow day and you hadn’t got that many calls. so when a shift turned up you ran to the locker room to collect your stuff.
“hey y/l/n someone’s overly excited to get home today” walsh one of your colleagues laughed as you rushed putting your stuff in your bag.
“her mans home for once why do you think she’s so excited” brett her best friend winked and started laughing, the firehouse was your family you laughed at their jokes and rolled your eyes.
“see you guys in 48 hours” you said putting your bag over your shoulder and leaving, you walked outside getting in your car and drove home.
when you pulled up outside you saw dereks car outside and the lights on, you had a massive smile on your face as you walked in.
“babe i’m here” you said taking your shoes off at the door, he walked round the corner a smile matching yours on his face and you jumped into his arms.
“hey my pretty girl, did you miss me?” he smiled hugging you tightly.
you both made your way to the kitchen the both of you catching up and talking about your week, as you made dinner, rossi’s spaghetti. you both made your way over to the couch turning on the tv as you ate.
once you’d finished eating you cuddled up against derek on the couch under a nice warm blanket. dereks body heat always keeping you warm, your personal radiator. you had your head on his chest and your leg over him his arm was around you his hand laying on your ass. you were watching the tv when you felt something hard poking into your thigh. you giggled and looked up at him.
“sorry princess” he sighed, it wasn’t that he was embarrassed he just didn’t want you to feel pressured just because his body was thinking to far ahead.
“it’s alright der” you smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips, he smiled. he didn’t have a problem with the fact you hadn’t had sex, he just wanted to know why. maybe he was doing something wrong? or you didn’t feel comfortable with him?
“pretty girl, don’t take this the wrong way but i’d like to ask you something” he said sitting up slightly, you furrowed your eyebrows sitting up curious as to what he was going to say. even though you had a feeling you knew what he was going to ask.
“i don’t want this to come across as me pressuring you. because i have absolutely no problem in waiting, that’s not what this is at all. i’d just like to know if there’s a reason we haven’t gone all the way yet, just if i’m doing something wrong when we start getting intimate that makes you change your mind or if you just don’t feel safe with me yet? all we’ve done is you giving me head, it just doesn’t feel right to me, i want it to be about you. i want to make you feel good” he explained in the most polite way possible, it made your heart swell at the fact he wanted to make sure he wasn’t doing anything wrong, the fact he wants to make you feel good. derek was a god send. every woman deserves a man like him.
you didn’t really know how to respond though, suddenly the embarrassment from being an adult virgin made you feel beyond uncomfortable and anxious. you knew derek had a far bit of experience with woman and that kind of intimidated you. you sat consumed in your own thoughts until he spoke again.
“hey baby i’m right here, if something happened and that’s why. that’s okay you don’t have to explain it to me. or if you’re just not ready that’s okay. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. i love you” he worried himself now, the way you froze up you didn’t even think how that would look, your boyfriend is a profiler your behaviour when it comes to talking about this probably worried him. a lot considering the things he’s seen.
“no no derek it’s not that. i’m um i’m a virgin” you blurted not wanting him to spend another second worrinf about you, he chuckled. you didn’t understand his response and just looked at him.
“wait, you’re being serious?” he stated, he was shocked how could a woman as beautiful as you not have had sex maybe you were waiting till marriage or you just hadn’t found the right guy yet. you nodded confirming the fact you were actually a virgin.
“are you waiting until marriage?” he asked with a shocked look on his face. it didn’t bother him, not at all he was just shocked.
“no i’m just waiting for the right guy.. and i think i’ve found him” you smiled moving to sit on his lap, his hands moved to your thighs.
“oh really? you found the right guy hmm? what’s his name?” derek teased as he gently caressed your thighs.
“derek morgan”
#criminal minds#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan#derek morgan smut#spencer reid x reader
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Hey Neighbor Pt 9
Part 8
WC: ~1.5k
AN: I'm so worried about writing longer chapters in case they are too boring. but I hate splitting things up when I'm on a roll. ha
You watched as the man you had run into exited Toji’s house 30 minutes later. Unable to hear what the two were discussing you relied on their body language to give you some hint as to who he was. The men seemed formal towards each other yet relaxed; Toji with his hands in his pocket or across his chest, the other guy casually lighting a cigarette while showing his back to toji. There must be some level of trust between them, then. Before the man leaves, you notice him gesture towards your house. You draw back further from the window, afraid of being seen.
Once the car is out of sight and Toji returns to his house, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Should you ask Toji who he was or was that being too nosy? Not like i’ll get a straight answer, he refuses to tell me anything, you think, settling on being nonchalant about it.
Fortunately, you had work to keep you focused. And most fortunately, your hangover was minimal. Nothing more than a slight throb thanks to the pain meds Toji had offered you. You become robotic as you scan, sort, and shelve books and answer the same boring questions from customers.
Before you can notice, it’s your lunch break. You sit in the small cafe that the bookstore offers, downing a hot chai latte and checking your phone. One message from the work group chat and one from Toji that was sent a few hours ago
Toji: You ok?
You fight back the urge to send, “I can’t tell you right now, it’s not the right time,” instead, pocketing your phone and playing hard to get. You clock back into work, ready to start the second half of your shift.
Wait, am I wanting him to chase me or something? This guy who knows things but won't tell me? Why am I trying to act like this is a dude i’ve swiped on Tindr? This guy has secrets, deep ones. Ones I probably don’t wanna know—
“Excuse me,” a soft voice snaps you out of your internal monologue. You spin around and are met with a man. His dark auburn hair is close-cropped at the sides while the top fashionably brushes just above his deep brown eyes. A soft shadow of stubble peppers his strong jaw.
“Oh, hello. Can I help you?” you quickly revert to the robotic motions of a customer service provider.
“Yeah, I was looking for your classical section.”
“Are you looking for anything in particular,” you ask after leading him to the designated section of the store.
“What would you recommend?”
A question every worker hates. “Well, can never go wrong with Doestrevsky.”
“Ah, yes, I read Crime and Punishment in school. Incredible prose,” he responds.
Your heart lifts at finally being able to discuss books with someone. “Indeed, if you like that, you might like The Idiot. Same themes of human nature and society.” You grab a copy off the shelf and hand it to me.
“Well I’d be an idiot if I didn’t take the advice of such a beautiful, well-read woman,” he says coyly as you walk to the counter. You internally groan but also can’t help but blush at the compliment, though the joke was indeed awful.
“Let me know how you like it?” you say after ringing him up and bagging his purchase.
“How about we discuss it over dinner sometime,” he cocks an auburn brown.
“Oh,” you stammer, thrown off by the sudden offer. It’d been so long since you’d been on a date you forgot what it was like to be asked out. “Sure!”
“Great I’ll keep you posted on my progress,” the man who you now know as Connor pockets his phone after you exchange numbers. “I look forward to discussing it with you and hearing your beautiful thoughts.”
Ok, he was laying it on a little thick but you don't mind. The only interaction you had had with a man for the past few months had been with Toji. And those interactions were hardly civil, much less flirty. Though Toji tended to tease, it was mostly to throw you off the topic of his secrets.
The rest of your shift goes by quickly and you arrive home before the sun goes down. As you get out of your car, you notice Toji sitting on his porch steps. You try to ignore him but ignoring him is like trying to ignore a bear about to devour you. You give a wave, walking fast to your house.
“You ok?” Toji asks, still sitting on the steps. Damn, he either can’t take a hint or is just stubborn.
“Yeah, thanks,” you respond fumbling your keys out of your pocket. You drop them. Cursing yourself for being so easily intimidated by him you stoop to pick them up. Toji’s feet appear in your line of vision. You look up at the giant man standing over you. You want to feel afraid, but you can’t deny the absolute feral part of your brain at the sight of him standing over you.
“Why didn’t you text me back?” the possessive tone didn’t help dampen the submissive part of your psyche. Damn, why do I have to be such a whore for crazy men?
“I was working,” you squeak out, picking your keys up and walking to your front steps.
“I wanna talk,” Toji says behind you as you march up the steps and unlock your door.
“It’s fine Toji. Nothing to talk about,” you turn around, Toji is standing at the bottom of your porch steps.
“There is,” Toji huffs a breath. “A lot, actually.”
You were not in the mood for this. Your day ended on a good note and you intend for it to stay that way. “Look, whatever it is. I don’t care.”
“Yes you do,” Toji takes one step up.
You shake your head, even though you were screaming yes in your head. You will not let him win. “Nah, I’m good. I really couldn't care less what your little secrets are. I don’t even know you.”
“It’s not that, it’s just—”
The notification on your phone interrupts the moment. You reach into your pocket for it and notice a text from Connor.
Connor: I hope you had a good rest of your day. I must say, you made mine :)
Oh, the cringe was off the charts with this guy. But you can’t keep the stupid smile from appearing on your face. Followed by a giggle. Shit I’m giggling over a guy. I need laid
“Who’s that?” Toji asks sharply.
“No one,” you shake your head.
“No one huh,” Toji takes another step up, finally standing in front of you. “‘No one’ got you smiling like a goof?”
“You have your secrets, I have mine,” you shrug.
“You don't blush like that for just no one,” Toji teases, he steps so close you can feel the heat off of him. “Now who could possibly be making sweet little y/n blush so much besides me?”
You crane your neck up to look at him, refusing to show he’s affecting you. “I can’t tell you. It’s not the right time.”
Finally, you manage to knock him off his game by throwing his words back at him. He steps back, putting some distance between you. A scowl wrinkles his brow and his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth. You smirk, pleased with yourself. “Good night toji.”
Toji
Toji stares at the door you slammed in his face, stricken dumb by the sass you dished out. He had expected this to be a moment of confession, finally getting it all out in the open. Now standing at your closed door, Toji has no choice but to retreat back home.
After dinner and tucking Megumi into bed, Toji collapses onto his king-size bed. He turns his head to the window, towards your house. The lamp on your bedside table creates a soft glow from your window. He watches as you enter the bedroom. Your eyes on your phone, smiling.
Toji clenches his jaw. Here he was ready to start having an honest conversation with you, and you were too busy with this mysterious ‘no one.’ He hated being this way, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a sense of protectiveness over you.
He watches you throw your phone on the bed, the giddy smile still on your lips—perfect lips, soft delicate lips he’s thought about kissing on multiple occasions. With your back to the window, you remove your shirt and toss it to the chair before you begin sliding your pants down. As much as Toji would love nothing more than to watch, he has enough decency to look away, he’s not THAT much of a pervert.
He reaches into his back pocket, depositing the contents beside him.
First is his cellphone which he text Shiu–I need to borrow a few of your tech geeks.
The second, is a sealed envelope. No address, no street names or numbers. Just 3 words written in delicate script:
il mio agnellino
#Hey Neighbor#toji zenin#jjk x you#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro smut#toji fluff#toji angst#dilf toji#dad toji#soft toji#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji#megumi fushiguro#female reader x toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fic
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GHOSTIN'!
voicemails they’d leave while abroad
gender neutral reader
ISAGI YOICHI!
“Good morning, dear! It’s probably late there for you, isn’t it? Just thought I’d give you a call. I’ve been busy, but I still wanna try to talk to you as much as I can. I’m thinking of you a lot, did you know that? Haha, you probably do.”
“Playing overseas has been really cool. I’ve always dreamt of doing this as a kid, so it kinda feels unreal even now… It sorta reminds me of the first time I got to play with Noa. I’ll keep doing my best and make you proud!”
“Next time I go abroad, you should come with me. There’s tons of cool things here I’d love to show you, and I’m taking as many pictures I can to send to you… Okay, I think I should probably get ready to go now. I love you so much! I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Bye!”
KURONA RANZE!
“…Hey. How are you doing? You didn’t pick up, so I’m leaving you a message.”
“Things are pretty chill over here. Just the usual: lots of practice, a few games, talking with the coaches in between. Adjusting to the food took a bit, but Isagi managed to get us some microwave rice somehow.”
“…I really wanna hear your voice. Make sure to call me as soon as you can. I’ll try to pick up. Sleeping and waking up by myself is no fun. I need someone to hold and cuddle with. Guess I got used to always having you around. Not that that’s a bad thing. Still, it feels weird to have to braid my hair myself instead of getting you to do it for me. Ugh, that sounds so sappy, doesn’t it?”
“Well, you’ve already seen how down bad I can get for you. Take responsibility, and make it up for me once I come back. Love you, babe.”
“Take care of yourself. I wanna see you all happy and healthy when I come back. Promise me that much. Talk to you soon.”
YUKIMIYA KENYU!
“Hello, love. Have you been doing alright? I’ve been managing here. There’s so much to see and do even outside of my games that I can barely take everything in! It would have been more enjoyable if you were here though. Everything’s more fun when you’re with me.”
“I hope life has been treating you well over there. I know we just called yesterday, but I want to hear from you again. I can’t help myself—you always make me feel better. If you have some free time later, call me back, okay? It’d be even better if we could video call too. Seeing your face would definitely make my day.”
“There are so many cool glasses shops here! Would you prefer me with my round glasses or something more sleek? The guys on my team kept giving me suggestions and taking pics, which is why I kept sending them to you earlier. Do I look handsome?”
“…I miss you so much, sweetheart. Please stay safe.”
OLIVER AIKU!
“Yo, honeybun. Sorry if it’s a bit loud; thought I’d give you a call while I’m on the way to the facility, but it looks like you’re busy. No worries. Shoot me a text later when you have the time.”
“Man, I really miss you. I feel like I’m becoming an old sappy man, but it isn’t the same without you around. I keep seeing all these cute souvenirs and stuff that remind me of you. And… uh- before you get mad at me, I’ve already bought them. So, uh, don’t bother yelling at me. C’mon, I’m a pro player. I can afford to spoil you as much as I want.”
“The coaches here know how to keep me busy. But I’ve been getting better, so I guess it’s worth it. Kinda wish I had a bit more free time to check in with you more, but hey, I gotta take what I can get. Make the most out of what I’m given, you know?”
“Ight, I’ll hang up and call you later. Kiss me through the phone. Muah.”
NANASE NIJIRO!
“Uh… Is it recording? Can you hear me? Okay, hi! It’s me! I’m leaving you a message! Wow, everything here’s sooooo professional and cool; I can’t believe I’m actually a professional player that gets to play overseas! I wish I could telepathically show everything to you, because there’s just soooooo much!”
“I can’t really understand what the foreign players are saying without the translator earpiece though. That’s okay! I always make sure to have it on me. It’d be better if you were here to keep me company though. The guys here aren’t too cuddly once bedtime kicks in, and snuggling with a smelly pillow isn’t the same…”
“…Oops, is that TMI? Hehe, it’s fine! That means being able to hug you and kiss you once I go back will be all the better! Ooh, I can’t wait! I’m gonna take you out on so many dates, have so many sleepovers, and make sure I’m with you as much as I can.”
“Ahhh, I’m blushing! Okay, okay, breathe Nijiro… In, out, in, out… All good! Call me later when you can! I love you sooooo much! Love you, love you, loveyouloveyouloveyou!!”
MICHAEL KAISER!
“Daaaaarling! Are you ignoring my calls? Awww, that’s fine. I know you’ll pick up at some point! Did you see my game last night? Of course you did. I know perfectly well you wouldn’t miss out on any game that I’m in. You wouldn’t miss out on it for the world, right? Not when your talented boyfriend is playing!”
“That means you saw my goals! It’s okay, save your praise for when I come back. Hearing you praise me on the phone is nice and all, but nothing beats holding you in my arms while you tell me how handsome and cool I am… Ahhh, you’re the best.”
“Don’t miss me too much! I’m making sure to post tons of sexy pictures for you on my Instagram. You can’t keep leaving me on read forever! Who knows? I might just hop on a plane and come surprise you if you keep up your antics!”
“Miss you, darling! Make sure to think of me lots!”
x
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#isagi yoichi#kurona ranze#kenyu yukimiya#oliver aiku#nijiro nanase#michael kaiser#x reader#my writing#u can tell how mentally ill i am w this#slay lock server this is for u <3#might make a pt 2 for this w other charas bc it was fun to write hehe
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Tiny bit of Monster AU Brainrot-
Malleus calling human Yuu Child of Humans instead of Chile of Men
Human Yuu singing Human by Rag'nBone Man (I have had this idea for way too long)
Human Yuu just minding their business in gym class running laps, and sees Vargas running at them full speed in his monster form for the first time, scaring them so bad that they start haul assing to the woods near the field
Human Yuu starts gushing to Malleus about how cool he is, saying things like, "Your horns are so awesome and beautiful!" and "Your wings look so big! And your tail look so shiny and smooth too! I bet Vil could only dream about having a tail like yours!" (I just wanna shower him with my own endearing praise~)
I’d actually been debating for a while how Malleus would refer to Yuu as the last known human, though “Child of Humans” does sound fitting. /)Ò^Ô I think I'll keep it that way!
As for the song “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man, I honestly hadn’t heard that song until now and it gives me some interesting ideas on how some monsters may have believed in the past that—according to mythology—most humans were the bad ones and “put the blame on” them for certain things happening the way they did. For the researchers to be looking towards Yuu for answers to things that happened centuries ago, or for those who grew up hating human mythology in general and blaming Yuu for these things…I can imagine it would cause a lot of stress and anxiety even for the calmest and most collected person. Ó^Ò
This could also segway into how the monsters would discover the human penchant to express their emotions in a way that also sends a message, and if someone were to catch wind of Yuu singing this song (or happen to stumble upon it like the Light Music Club did)? Things would likely start taking on a different tone as the monsters realize that Yuu is just as much an innocent who knows nothing of what happened in the past: only that they were alone in the world, and that—like the monsters themselves—humans can make mistakes too.
Of course, being able to share songs that hold a special meaning to Yuu is going to be a magical bonding experience! ÓvÒ/)
Omg, Yuu’s very first day in gym class would have been chaotic 🤣 Let’s see how that first day went down…>3>
Under a read more due to length!
///
FWEET!!!
“Alright, everyone, line up! You have one minute to stretch before we begin doing laps around the track.”
Yuu felt small compared to the much larger monster students around them, realizing that some towered nearly nine feet tall. ‘I’m going to get trampled,’ they thought nervously. ‘I’m in a strange world, forced to attend school, and I’m literally going to get trampled by giant humanoid monsters doing PE.’
“Hey, Yuu!” a familiar voice called, snapping them out of their thoughts as they turned to see Ace waving them over. “What are you doing in the middle?”
“Huh? I’m…running…I think?” Yuu replied, feeling self-conscious about the multiple sets of eyes now on them. Glancing at the multiple pairs of hooves and claws, they muttered, “And trying not to get trampled over…”
“Don’t worry, you won’t get trampled underfoot,” came Coach Vargas’ response as he appeared in front of them, gesturing with a large claw to the inner track ring. “Smaller students will start out on the inside and will work their way towards the middle with everyone else. Though seeing as you lack any tail or strong legs like the others, this will be a test for me to see how fast and strong you are as a human. Just keep running, and you’ll do fine. And if you fall behind, I’ll help you keep a good pace!”
Nearby Yuu could hear a couple of students snicker and whisper, “Humans must fall flat on their face all the time without a tail. Just look at those weird legs!”
Whether they meant for Yuu to hear them or not wasn’t clear, but before they could think of a retort, they jumped when the coach blew the whistle again. “Stretches are over—get into position!” he bellowed, Yuu immediately scurrying over to join the other smaller students. “On your mark…get set…GO!!”
FWEEEET!!
In an instant, most of the monster students took off, most galloping on all fours while others somehow kept pace on two legs before the rest of the students followed suit. Yuu did okay at first, keeping pace behind a large eared faun with violet hair easily enough. But by the time they came close to finishing the first lap they’d fallen far behind, forced to stick as close to the edge of the track as possible even as a literal stampede of students charged past them.
‘Just keep running,’ they thought, feeling their cheeks burn with embarrassment as the students that mocked them earlier ran past with cackles of amusement. ‘I just gotta keep running…’
Rrrrrrr….
‘Just keep running, just keep running, running, running,’ Yuu chanted in their mind, keeping their eyes on the student in front of them as a pacer as they finished their second lap. ‘What do we do? We run, run, ru-’
“Gah! Not again!” someone yelped, running past them like a scared rabbit. A moment later the student they were following glanced over his shoulder, his eyes growing wide in pure fear and panic as he too ran faster. What was going on…?
“Rrrrrr…rrrAAAWOOOH!”
Hearing the bellowing roar and the shredding of fabric behind them, Yuu’s head whipped around to see Coach Vargas’ frame grow larger, fur covering every inch of his body as his face pushed out to form a distinctly canine-like snout while his arms grew into massive, long clawed paws. They’d wondered what sort of bear-like monster the coach was, but now they realized that—like Professor Crewel and Professor Trein—he was a werebeast…a werebear.
Charging straight FOR THEM!?!?!
“Oh, Sugar Honey Iced Tea!!!!” Yuu screamed, flat out bolting the moment the transformed coach began to charge after them. They couldn’t let him bite them—they didn’t want to be a werebear!! “Shit shit shit shit SHIT!!! AAAAAAAA-!!!!”
Students that had passed by them before now squawked as Yuu passed them, Yuu’s shoes pounding against the compact rubber ground while their heart hammered in their chest. Blood thundering in their ears, they didn’t hear the others calling their name as they bolted off the track, running full speed into the forest. All they could hear was the earth-shaking steps of the massive werebear charging after them, his growls and roars urging them to run faster and faster until—
/Sometime later/
“Can someone please explain to me why the human is stuck in a tree?” Professor Trein asked, Lucius giving a low growl to match his master’s scowl.
“They climbed up the tree on their own! Honestly, I’ve never seen any student run or climb so fast during PE.”
Tilting his head back to look up into the tree, Crowley heaved a tired sigh as he spotted Yuu’s terrified face barely peeking over the large branch they’d wrapped themselves around. They hadn’t moved an inch since he arrived, their eyes locked onto the coach with a ‘thousand-yard stare’ and knuckles turning white. “Did you even warn them of your particular training style?” the headmaster asked, though he had a feeling he knew the answer.
“I told them that if they fell behind, I would help them keep their pace,” came the response. “They’ve exceeded my initial expectations and even surpassed a few of their fellow runners!”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure it was an impressive sight to see, and I admire your dedication to ensuring students get the most out of their exercise. That, however, doesn’t explain how we’re supposed to get what is quite literally the last living fragile human down from the tree before they get hurt.”
“Ah…right. Don’t worry, I’ll get them down! It’s been a while since I last pulled a tree out by the roots. Maybe I can shake them out?”
“Fragile, Ashton! Fragile!” Crewel growled out.
In the end, the staff somehow managed to get Yuu safely down on the ground. It took Crewel’s reassurances that—no—Coach Vargas doesn’t bite the students during his “encouragement runs” and that—no—it is highly unlikely that Yuu would even become a werebeast if they had been bitten by accident. Needless to say, Yuu was given a pass from Vargas running behind them in his werebear form, and he made a bit more of an effort to keep pace with them in his normal humanoid form to encourage them.
Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that the rest of the students were safe if he caught them falling behind!
///
Pfft…yeah, it went about as well as you’d expect when being chased by a bear. 😂 At least now they know that they can outrun him, and the other monster students got to witness the magic of human adrenaline in action! 0v0
Malleus interacting with Yuu…I can imagine that—as a dragon monster—he would sympathize with Yuu’s situation as much as Vil in how few both their species were. Perhaps that’s what first drew him to interact with them the first night he realized that Ramshackle was no longer an empty tomb—but rather, a sanctuary to protect something precious.
And precious they were, as with each interaction he had with them, the more he grew fond of Yuu’s strange human ways. Their admiration for him was tempered by pure, innocent curiosity as they speak. Each question they ask, he obliges with an amused smile or allows them a chance to touch his wings and horns. Each praise they sang to him filled him with warmth, freely allowing their hands to glide over the feathers of his wings or brush against the scales of his tail.
His mirth and amusement grew when they began to compare his beauty with Vil’s own, seeing their eyes light up with each new discovery or flicker of power he showed them. He may have grown used to hearing Sebek’s praise, though there was something endearing hearing a fabled human compliment him as though he were the only dragon fae monster in the world…and perhaps he was.
At least in that regard, he would be content to share this companionship with his Child of Humans.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland monster au#twst monster au#ashton vargas#twst dire crowley#divus crewel#mozus trein#ace trappola#malleus draconia
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Chapter 18: Interrupted
After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.
Jing Yuan/You
Notes:
Cross-posted on Ao3
Female reader
Chapter index at the end of chapter one
This changes everything. Now, there are questions you have to ask. Does she know what happened to Caelus and Stelle? Have they ever met? Has she ever met the other woman? How did she find out about the pregnancy?
"...I hate that family," she says, breaking your thoughts. "But, I also hate my brother. I warned him about getting involved with anyone from that messed up family. He wouldn't listen, and look what came out of it? He trusted him way too much and wouldn't keep his goddamn mouth shut…" The more she rambles, the more heated she gets. "...He should've cheated after we got married." She scoffs. "At least I'd be entitled to some of his money."
“Did anyone ever threaten you to keep quiet about the affair?”
She scoffs. “I had to threaten him.”
No matter how much she reread the message, it wouldn’t change. She knew that. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the flirty exchange.
“...What are you doing?”
She turned around and saw the man who had proposed to her a few months ago. She stood from the bed and held out his phone.
“Who is this?”
She sensed it, felt it in her bones. He was no longer the man who she thought he was. That nonchalant look at the phone was something she'd never seen before. Who was he? What did he do with the man who adored and spoiled her? As he walked to the table and lit a cigarette, it took every nerve in her body not to throw his phone at his face. Her mind was screaming; her face was probably red as a tomato. She was slightly shaking as she glared at him.
“You’ll be ruined," she seethed. "Once this gets out, your fucking reputation will be in the dumps.”
“She’s just a friend. You don’t need to get so worked up over nothing." He took a drag. "It’d be in your best interests.”
"...I thought I had the upper hand, but I later discovered that the messages were gone," she says. "I should've listened to my gut months ago that something was going on."
"Had he been asking you for financial support on the hotel?"
"...He did, and I was stupid enough to send money to him. It wasn't a lot, not enough to suddenly have an increase in quality and staff at least. It was strange that there was all this extra funding, but I shrugged it off because—hey—business was great. When I found out who the other woman was, it fucking made sense."
“Let me guess… He was using her like an ATM.”
“Gosh, how did you know? Anyway, I’d rather not talk about her.” Then, quietly, “It takes just one person to ruin a bunch of people’s lives.”
“...When did you find out about Caelus and Stelle?”
She hated being here, but it was just for one year. All she had to do was to make it through this one year. She didn't want to go when she was asked to relocate to a hospital in Xianzhou. Why would she after the terrible memories? But she didn't want to say no when her boss told her they would increase her salary and give her residency while she was there. Besides, those terrible memories were almost ten years ago.
She was working the day it happened: a bus carrying children had gotten into an accident. Some were in critical condition, while others had escaped with minor injuries. She and a doctor had finished operating on a young girl.
“She might be here for a while,” one of the other nurses said. “Her father is out on a business trip.”
“Then, who’s that in the room with her?”
“Their nanny and her brother.”
"I didn't know who their father was that time," she says.
"As someone as horrible as he is, it's hard to believe he hired a nanny to look after the kids that came out of the affair."
"Oh, trust me, you aren't the only one. But I knew he had to have a reason, knowing the kind of person he is."
"...Perhaps it was because of the relationship with his brother," you say, thinking out loud. "He'd have children to pass his inheritance down to rather than giving it to his brother, I suppose." A pause. "How did you find out?"
“...Dad!”
She was taking Stelle's blood pressure when she saw a man walk in, and her face immediately fell. It took the man a minute, but his expression soon mimicked hers.
“Your daughter’s been recovering well.”
Silence.
Stelle looked from her father to the nurse. “She’s been keeping me company.”
He stiffened. “Has she?”
After finishing her tasks, she walked out, not expecting him to follow her into the hallway. She stopped a short distance away from Stelle’s room.
She turned and frowned. “What do you want?”
“What are you… What are you doing here?”
"...Crazy how small the world is," you mutter.
"I knew what he really wanted to ask… Did I know he had a daughter, and did I do anything to her?" A pause. "If it was you, would you have done something? It's not like anyone would know."
"Children are innocent," you say. "I firmly believe that karma will always get you one way or another."
“I guess you’re right. Look where he and his children ended up.”
“I’m sure you told your brother about all of this. And… He still wanted to work with the brother of the man who hurt you so badly?”
“My brother kept telling me it’s not the same person, and everyone is different.”
The statement almost makes you shake your head in disappointment.
"I ended up just not caring," she continues. "It's not until later that they ran into problems that my brother told me what happened. I thought it was pointless for me to get involved since the man that I hated was gone anyway. What was the point? But"–she sighs—"I wanted some revenge, at least. I just wasn't expecting my brother to have something to hide."
“...So, you and your brother took back the lawsuit.”
"I just don't want to get involved with anyone from that family ever again."
“Did Caelus’s uncle ever reach out to you? He must’ve known that you and his brother were engaged.”
“He knew. But, reaching out wouldn’t help his case. What reason would he have?”
You hear a knock at the door and quickly look at the clock. It must be Jing Yuan.
"I just have one more question," you say, opening the door. Jing Yuan's standing on the porch. "What exactly caused the conflict between him and your brother?"
"Are you expecting me to go into specifics?"
"Whatever you're willing to tell me. During this time, Caelus was still alive. Whatever conflict that happened might have something to do with why Caelus killed himself.”
“...It was a recording.”
“...A recording?” Jing Yuan looks at you curiously. “Of a conversation?”
"It was a private conversation between him and my brother. He was obviously upset about it and scared that there was more without his knowledge."
You wouldn’t be surprised if it was used for blackmail. Perhaps whatever secrets her brother hid were recorded, meaning Caelus’s uncle knew about the skeletons in the closet. But what purpose was it for? And why?
After ending the call, Jing Yuan takes your hand. From the look on your face, he knows you’re onto something. “I take it you called that woman.”
“I got something out of it, but…”
“Raises more questions than answers?”
“Oh, goodness, how did you know?”
Jing Yuan pulls you close. “Call it a hunch.” After a quick kiss on the lips, he asks, “What is this about a recording?”
“Apparently, Caelus’s uncle recorded a private conversation between him and her brother. Her brother found out, and that was how their conflict started.”
“How interesting…”
“It was probably used as blackmail, but it doesn't look like it has anything to do with what happened to Caelus.”
You and Jing Yuan are walking out the door as he says, “I dug into the personal background of that director at Star Rails, and during that time, he just got promoted. It got me thinking if they had already known each other.”
“...Well, Caelus was still alive then,” you say, reaching Jing Yuan’s car. It quietly beeps once, and you walk to the passenger seat. As you get into the passenger seat, a thought hits you. “We theorized that Caelus’s uncle was the one who told him about the children that came out of the affair.”
Jing Yuan looks at you before starting the car. “We don’t know what was on the recording, but…”
You turn to him. “...It might’ve been recorded and used as evidence to the director that children came out of the affair. It wouldn’t be a stretch considering the woman is our missing fiancée.”
“Missing fiancée?”
“She was dating Caelus’s father when he cheated.” The brief surprise on his face makes you say, "Yeah, I know. It took me a moment, too.”
“This is getting crazier by the day,” he mutters.
◆◆◆
Jingliu had closed her gym for the day and instead called for a staff meeting to brainstorm ideas on increasing revenue.
“Why don’t we just rely on Jing Yuan?” someone asks.
Jingliu almost sighs as she looks around the room.
"Yeah. He runs a successful bed and breakfast, doesn't he? Why don't we have a partnership with him? Staying at his resort can get you 50% off here or something."
“Oh! What about an app?"
“We’re trying to save money not use more of it,” someone says flatly.
“...Say, didn’t some business people drop by before?” Everyone looks at Jingliu. “What was that about?”
Looking at the curious faces around the table, she figures there's no use hiding it. "...They were people interested in buying the gym."
“I guess you turned them down.”
"I did, which is why we're having this conversation right now. If I were to sell it, they'd get rid of all of you and all the hard work in building it to where it is now… We'll just be another cog in the wheel. The individuality… branding… the creativity… It'd be changed to suit their business model and needs.
"Some of you have been with me for years." Jingliu looks at the few faces around the room. "And some of you"—she looks at the younger staff—"are quite new. My point is that everyone has contributed to the gym's growth in the past. It wasn't through my efforts alone, but I want to keep this place running for as long as possible."
“...Is the situation that bad?”
“I’m getting a report of our latest financial results in just a few weeks,” she says. “Everything will be transparent.”
A young man scratches his head. "...Honestly, I never thought we'd run into problems with this place."
“Yeah… Everyone loves you, Jingliu.”
“Love isn’t enough to pay the bills, unfortunately,” she says. “We gotta improve.”
"Sounds like it would make a pretty good story if we did. Maybe we'll make front-page news or something."
When her phone buzzes, she pulls it out of her pocket. “...Excuse me,” she says. “I need to take this.” She steps out of the small conference room and answers the call from her father. “Dad, is something wrong?”
“I was at the bank today, and I saw a familiar face."
Oh, no.
She's hoping it's anyone but the person she's thinking about. Jingliu knows that her father and Caelus's uncle are acquaintances as her father had been in and out of Xianzhou until he finally retired and moved in with her since her mother had passed away.
“He’s back in town?” Her father asked at breakfast one day.
“...And under investigation,” Jingliu muttered, sitting across from her father with a plate full of food.
“Investigation?”
“Not an official one, but…”
Then, she told him about the suspicions about Caelus's uncle involving the death of his nephew.
“...Well, this is… I… this is unexpected.”
“I don’t know what they’re going to find… but if he did have something to do with it, people should know.” She glanced at him. “I think him being the person behind the offer is a good enough reason for me to reject it.”
Her father put his arms on the table. "...I hope you know I'm not here to tell you what to do." She slowly looked up. "Your decisions are often better than mine. Getting money for the surgery is one thing, but I also don't want you to mentally stay in a place that you've outgrown."
“I’m going to make this work,” she said firmly. “If I can’t, at least I’ll have no regrets.”
“He told me about the new offer he wants to make to you."
“Don’t tell me you were convinced,” she deadpans.
"I called to tell you that I won't allow it. I won't allow you to take any offers from him."
Jingliu laughs. “What happened to not telling me what to do?”
"He offered me money." Jingliu's smile instantly fades. "If I could convince you, he said he'll give me money."
“Their equipment is out-of-date. Their marketing and business practices are too traditional. Plus, by utilizing new technology—”
“I’m sorry,” Jingliu’s father said, frowning, “Did I ask for your opinion?”
“I’m only trying to help. As a father, I’m sure it’s not easy seeing your daughter’s business suffer, especially since you also have a stake in it, don’t you?”
"It doesn't sound like you have a plan."
“We’d work with her to iron out the details. I’m simply saying to face reality. Money is what can improve things.”
Jingliu’s father had a lot to say. But before giving this man a piece of his mind, he still needed an answer to this one question:
“Why are you so interested in her business?”
“It’s not her business as much as her we’re interested in. We’ll allow her a seat on the management team if she agrees to our deal.”
Allow?
“She’ll have access to so many more resources. The team is really interested in working with her. So, if you could help me convince her, I can compensate you.”
“Well, let me give you my wholehearted response…” Jingliu’s father walked up to him. “You can take your money, and get the hell out of my face.”
“Well said. Good job, Dad.”
“I called to let you know in case he tries to tell you differently,” her father says.
"Who knows?" she mutters. "I never saw him again, nor did he contact me after Dan Heng and I saw him at the restaurant."
“...You still need to tell me about that.”
“About what?”
“What’s going on between you and Dan Heng? Have you… Have you always been interested in younger men?”
Jingliu’s face turns warm, and she calmly says, “We’re…”
“Take it easy. No need to rush.” She could see the smile on his face. “But, I still want a proper introduction.”
◆◆◆
You aren’t sure what to think when Jing Yuan tells you to close your eyes. You're at his place, and he'd gone in first. He's blocking your path as you look at him skeptically.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going kill you.”
“That never crossed my mind,” you say. “But since you mentioned it, I’m even more suspicious.”
He puts his hands on your shoulders and leans forward. “...Just trust me.”
You hold his stare for a few seconds before finally closing your eyes. Then, you feel him take your hand and slowly lead you into the living room.
“Can I open my eyes now?”
“Not yet.”
His hands are on your shoulders, and he gently pushes you down until you’re sitting on the sofa.
“Okay. Now.”
A mini, two-tiered, pink-shaded, ombre cake sits on a small, elevated gold stand. What surprises you is that it's perfectly smooth. Large, round white sprinkles are spread evenly around, and fresh roses are used as a topper that spirals downwards.
“...What do you think?”
"Wow! Genuinely impressed. How long did this take you?"
"A while. I've baked before, but it was my first time doing shading like this."
You pick up a small fork off of one of the plates. “Well, let the judging begin.”
You don't know, but Jing Yuan's anxiously awaiting your reaction after seeing you take that first bite. While he's usually confident with his cooking, his heart races out of nervousness. You put the fork back on the plate.
“Not too sweet and not too bland.” You go for another bite. “I love it!”
Jing Yuan kisses your head. “I’m glad.”
You hand him a fork. “I don’t want to be the only one eating.”
Jing Yuan tilts your head towards him and steals a kiss. “...I’m in the mood for something other than cake.”
Your heart races, and you almost drop the fork. But then, you quickly turn to the cake and ask, “Did you always have a talent for cooking?"
Pom ran into a small kitchen, his face pale and eyes wide. "Is there a fire? Oh, my God!"
"Everything's"—Jing Yuan coughs—"Everything's okay, Pom." Then, Jing Yuan quickly reached up and turned off the blaring fire alarm that went off because of the smoke.
Pom shook his head. “You may have the looks and the brains, Boss, but you have no gift for cooking. Who sets off a fire alarm while cooking fried dumplings?”
"Keep talking, Pom, and it's not just the fried dumplings going up in flames."
“Eep! I’m sorry!"
"Laugh all you want," Jing Yuan says, taking a bite of his cake and looking at you who's biting back a smile. "I’m over it now.”
Instead, you take a small breath. “Well, you came a long way. But, how was that transition? You were at a desk job, and suddenly you're cooking, cleaning, planning, and doing all sorts of things."
“It was tough, but I had to learn. It wasn't all just for the business."
“I guess it was also because of Yanqing.”
Jing Yuan nods. “When you’re doing something for someone you love, even if you don’t like it, it makes it easier.”
“...And you’ll do it seriously.”
“That’s right.” Jing Yuan puts his fork down. “...What are you going to do after this whole situation with Star Rails?”
“Where is this coming from?”
Jing Yuan takes your hand. “It’s a conversation we’ll have to have sooner or later. I’m just curious.”
“...If all of our speculations are true, I don’t want to go back. I’d want to expose everything they’ve done, and…” Jing Yuan waits for you to continue. “...Maybe try something new.”
“It sounds like you have something in mind.”
“It’s really crazy.”
"Could it be crazier than setting off a fire alarm by cooking fried dumplings?"
“Xianzhou doesn’t have an established news station, right? Well… What if… A big what if… What if I start an independent publication?” You sigh. “Or maybe that’s too ambitious.”
“Really? After all the digging you’ve done on Caelus and his uncle, you don’t call yourself ambitious?”
You lean back. “Yeah, but this is kinda different.”
“Do you know why the last news station didn’t work out?”
“You said it was because they were too much like a tabloid.”
"Exactly. Of course, there will always be an audience for that. But, no one bothered with proper reporting, something I think you'd do really well. By doing things properly and diligently, I think that's the best way to win an audience. There's always a reward for hard work." You lean your head on his shoulder. "...I would also love it if you could stay here." You look up and see him looking down at you. "But whatever you choose, I'll support you."
He leans closer… closer… but you’re the one who closes the gap.
His hand goes behind your head, drawing you closer while deepening the kiss, and he savours every taste. He brushes your hair behind your ear, and the sofa slightly creaks when you move onto his lap. He draws a soft moan as he kisses you faster, harder, as if knowing he has limited time. His light touches move up and down your back, fueling your desire that knows no bounds. You want him. You need him. And just as you slowly roll your hips forward, a phone goes off.
Your face is flushed. His face is flushed. You're staring at each other, coming down from the high your lips took each other on. Your hands are close to the buttons of his shirt.
So close yet so far.
“...Are you going to get that?” you ask, glancing at his phone on the table.
His lips find your neck, and his light, butterfly kisses leave a hot trail to your collarbone.
“...I probably should.”
You almost pin him against the sofa but think otherwise. You're about to get off his lap, but his arm snakes around you, holding you in place. He reaches over and picks up his phone. With a little mischievous look in your direction, he answers it. You almost gasp when you feel his hand slide up and down your back and underneath your shirt. You quickly turn to him, and he’s holding back a chuckle.
You’re about to get revenge when you suddenly hear, “Dad!”
Jing Yuan stops. “Yanqing?” He looks at his watch as you move onto the sofa. “There’s still an hour before I have to pick you up.”
You're finishing the rest of your cake as Jing Yuan talks with his son on the phone. But as soon as he ends it, another call comes in. You recognize Pom's voice on the other line despite not making out what he's saying.
“Is everything okay?” you ask once Jing Yuan is off the line.
“Everything’s fine.” He kisses your head. “There’s a complaint I have to resolve.”
“What about Yanqing? Is he okay?”
"He said they're taking a group photo, and some parents are there. He wanted to see if I could drop by."
"I can go. Maybe you can drop me off on the way to your big boy job."
“I’ll head over as soon as I can.” You walk past him with the empty plates, but he stops you by putting his hand on yours, tilts your head towards him, and kisses you. By the time he breaks apart, the plates are in his hands. “...Don’t think you’re off the hook.”
“Me? What did I do?” You lightly jab his chest. “I should be saying that, Mister. You were being way too bold.”
“Was I?” He chuckles. “Well, let me tone it down a bit next time.” With a small pout, you look off to the side. “Unless someone doesn’t want me to.” You dare to look back, and it’s that little teasing smile that makes you want to hit him.
◆◆◆
You’re standing on a porch and a woman who looks about the same age as you opens the door. Her short white dress with blue and gold details stands out against her gray eyes and long gray hair. She looks confused—at first—until it hits her.
“Yanqing’s mother,” she says. “Jing Yuan’s woman.”
You don't expect to be addressed like that, but you say, "Yeah, that's one way of putting it." Then, you introduce yourself.
The gray-haired woman extends a hand to you. “Nice to meet you. I’m Bronya, Clara’s mother.”
“Then… You must be Seele’s woman.”
She chuckles. “Pretty much.”
She lets you into the house and leads you to the living room, where you hear laughter, screams, and muffled conversations from the backyard.
“Oh, hello!” Seele is carrying a food plate when she greets you. “We heard from Yanqing that you’d be dropping by.”
“Anything I can do to help?” you ask, looking outside at the lively atmosphere. “Looks like you got your hands full.”
“Nah. Appreciate it, though. All we need is your presence. Hoping Jing Yuan can also make it."
You follow Bronya and Seele to the backyard, and as soon as Yanqing sees you, he jumps off the bouncy castle and runs to you.
“Mom!”
Clara follows him and says, "Hi again."
"Happy birthday, Clara," you say, hugging her.
"Thank you!"
You see some of the kids looking at you curiously. One of them walks up to you. “Is she your mom, Yanqing?”
"Yeah!"
“My, does this mean Jing Yuan is getting married again?” a woman asks.
It’s then you realize that all the parents here are women.
"He was quite the bachelor," another one says.
“Say… Do you know what happened between him and his ex?”
You're taken aback at the question, but before you can say anything, Bronya claps her hands. "Let's get ready for that photo everyone wants, shall we?"
"Aw… I was hoping to see Jing Yuan or Blade," you hear someone mutter, though it doesn't sit well with you, knowing it came from one of the moms.
After posing for the photo, you're about to grab a snack with Yanqing when your phone goes off. At first, you think it's from Jing Yuan, so you quickly pull it out of your pocket. But when it's an unknown number, you almost slip it back into your pocket until you step to the side to take it out of curiosity.
“Hello?”
“Hello.” You recognize the voice. And when the man says your name, your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming. But you aren’t prepared. Not yet, at least. Because…
What in the world does Caelus’s uncle want with you?
Chapter 19
Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @grimreapersscythe @nqctre @winterpein @asakenajustexistshere
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New York | J.Hughes
part two of vancouver
Don’t know what this is, I may re-write
-
“Silly text and said the jackets are getting into town a couple days before the game next week, his girlfriends playing at the garden if you wanna go?” Ty shouted through the house.
“Yeah sure man, whatever!”
Ty had been trying to do things with Jack to keep his mind off you. He was a good friend, trying so hard but nothing worked when Jack was so caught up.
When the day came to go to the concert Jack regretted agreeing to it in the first place. He didn’t have the social battery for this.
“Come on man, smile. It’ll be fun”
“Yeah, Yeah”
Cole hadn’t stopped gushing over Tate and how nervous she has been for this performance, Jack just blocked it out. He didn’t intend to be rude but he simply didn’t want to be there.
The lights dimmed and screams erupted as Tate appeared on the stage.
“Hey everyone thank you for coming out tonight! I wanted to personally come on here to introduce my support act! I don’t doubt you’ve heard her already and adore her sound as much as I do. So please let’s hear it for Y/N”
For the second time Jack felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Ty turned to him “Man I didn’t know-“
“It’s fine” he snapped, watching as you walked into his view.
He hadn’t seen you since that day in his apartment.
You hadn’t really changed but you had changed everything all at the same time.
That song that he knew all too well started. He had listened to it so many times.
Jack never went out with everyone else after the show, excusing himself to go home. Nobody questioned it anymore, just being grateful that they managed to get him out in the first place.
You hadn’t gone out either, opting to go back to your hotel room with Netflix on.
Your phone was sitting beside you on the bed taunting you to text, you tried desperately not to give in to the urge to reach out. Your heart gave in, snatching the phone up and opening iMessage.
Jack was almost asleep when his phone went off, reaching out blindly to open the phone, sitting up and blinking wildly when he saw your name.
i saw you tonight.
He read the message over and over again as if it wasn’t just four words.
silly invited us. nice song btw
He immediately regretted hitting send, overthinking if the message was too snappy and rude, it was too late to delete it.
The three dots on your side appeared and disappeared over and over causing Jack’s heart to beat faster and faster.
thanks, wrote it about this guy I love or whatever.
Jack stared at the message. love.
I think that guy misses you or whatever.
… goodnight jack.
Jack kept thinking back to your conversation the next day, running it back at every chance he had.
During practice, getting ready for the game, even in the locker room. You truly hadn’t left his mind since the moment he saw you again.
He tried to shake the thoughts off during the game, trying to throw himself into it and play as best he could.
Jack was on the bench watching the jumbotron as it panned over excited fans until it stopped on a familiar jersey. It was his jersey, his first Devil’s jersey.
You’d taken it one night he was playing away, wanting to wear some merch but not having anything in Michigan accept the jersey he’d left before he moved.
You smiled and waved to the camera, seeing yourself on the big screen. Jack couldn’t help but smile too. It all felt right.
Game ended with a win, Jack was on a high right now feeling better than he had all year.
He never saw you, deflating him slightly after the game. He’d hoped to find you outside the locker room or in the foyer. No luck.
He’s gone home alone with Ty finally getting a car he’d driven himself but offered to take Dawson home first.
So being the only one home supposedly it gave Jack quite a shock to find someone infront of the apartment.
He could see his surname plastered across the persons back and it didn’t take a genius to work out who it was.
“I never thought I’d see you here again”
You spun around to the source of the voice, a smile softly playing on your lips.
“Yeah, um- neither did I”
Jack awkwardly played with his hands “What are you doing here?”
“I just- does he miss me?”
“Huh?”
“Does that guy really miss me?” You asked again, Jack smirked when he question finally registered.
He nodded slowly “So much”
You took in a deep breath “I miss him too”
There was a single beat of silence before you lunges forward into Jack and he did too, holding onto one another and kissing like your life depended on it.
Pulling away you looked up at him and smiled “God I love you”
“My names Jack babe, not god”
The Hughes’ were ecstatic to hear you were back together again as was Ty who was just grateful his roommate wasn’t going to be so angry all the time.
You’d done long distance again with your work you had to but you made strict rules of no working in the off-season so your album was produced by then.
So a year on you were sat with him now on the Fourth of July with your friends. The speaker played the local radio while you two cuddled up on a chair.
“And now we have a new chart entry from Y/N Y/L/N, this is her first song since the number one hit vancouver and we’re sticking with the geographical theme with her new hit - New York”
The song was an open love letter to Jack, detailing everything you’d gone through. You could feel him hold you tighter throughout.
When the song was close to finished you felt him lean into your ear and whisper “I love you but you gotta stop writing songs about me”
You chuckled “But you’re my muse baby”
“I’ll be your muse forever just stay writing love songs ok?”
“Got it, happy songs only you just can’t make me sad”
He looked so serious when he replied “I’ll never ever make you sad again”
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Echo and Comms (Echo x Reader) Chapter Two
Summary: Who could know that a simple night out with your friend would lead to this? A life of danger and the man of your dreams.
Echo x Communications Officer Reader (gender neutral). Friends to lovers/star-crossed lovers.
A.N. Woo part two out in a pretty timely fashion! I'm actually really proud of this one, but I hope you guys like long content because this is a big boy! Some of this is pure fluff, but, I will warn you, there's other parts that are pure heartache.
Please comment your thoughts in the replies or reblogs <3
Warnings: Explicit acts mentioned but not in detail, mentions of war and death, soldier death, grief, (assumed) main character death.
Part One /// Part Two /// Part Three /// [Part Four coming soon]
Three days. Three days of going to work, having lunch with Mavis, and eating alone in your apartment. You didn’t really mind, per se. You had had way too many experiences with boys not calling for it to truly affect your normal life.
But you were a little…disappointed. Maybe Echo wasn’t as interested in you as you had thought. Maybe he had just wanted someone to talk to while his brother had fun. Maybe he had forgotten about you the next day.
Ugh! Why was the shower always the place where annoying thoughts like that popped up? You groaned as you rinsed product out of your hair, trying to chase away the thoughts. Why did this even bother you so much? It wasn't like you felt an almost instant connection to the trooper or anything, right? Definitely not, and you certainly didn't think he was the cutest man who'd ever bought you drinks.
Just as you reached for your body wash, you heard a noise: the sound you had set for notifications on your data pad. It was likely Mavis, asking you what time you wanted to go see that vid she had mentioned. You knew you had plenty of time to answer her, so you made sure to take advantage of the hot water and soothing quiet. You stepped out a while later, patting yourself down with your robe as you strode over to your table where the pad sat.
Oh!
It wasn’t Mavis after all and you tried to ignore the giddy smile as you read the message over.
>Hey there! This is Echo, from the bar the other night? I know you’re probably busy but I figured I’d send this. Hopefully none of my brother’s have bothered you at the bar since I’ve been gone?<
You snorted in laughter. He was certainly an awkward one, you wondered if the message was missing a section in the middle, or if he just wasn’t used to sending out things that weren’t military reports.
Of course, you had no idea of the turmoil that had happened on the other side of the screen.
Echo was a nervous wreck. Even with the timeless vacuum of space, he knew that it had been several rotations for you back on Coruscant, several rotations of Echo not knowing what to send you. He had written and deleted maybe thirty versions of that message, always backing out and thinking he could craft something better- until Fives had had enough, snatched his data pad from him, and pressed ‘send’ on whatever drivel he had typed out in the moment.
Now Echo was staring at the “sent” message, rereading it over and over as if it was his death sentence. It might as well have been, for how long it had passed with no reply from you.
“So hottie hasn’t written back yet?” Jesse smirked.
“I’m gonna kill Fives,” Echo muttered, ignoring the crude nickname that Echo had scolded Jesse for using for you before.
Fives heard, even on the other side of the room and looked back at him with incredulity, “Me? What’d I do? You’re the one who kept chickening out of doing anything, I just sent it for you.”
“I sound like an idiot, Fives!”
“You are an idiot, Echo!”
Jesse cut in again with a laugh, “Oh yeah, and you’re mister smooth talker. That's why you got sent home from the bar alone last time?”
“Hey!” Fives waggled a finger at him, “My angel sent me home because she was- what’d you call it, Kix?
“Respecting your inebriated state.”
“Exactly,” Fives confirmed with a nod, “she was being respectful.”
None of Echo’s brothers seemed to care that he was spiraling deeper into despair the longer he sat there, they just went on arguing among themselves. It had been way too long without a reply, and he just knew that you were laughing at him on the other end. Maybe you had even hoped he wouldn’t message you, maybe you were just being nice when you gave him your comm code, maybe-
His heart stopped when the screen flashed from a new message. Eyes wide in disbelief, Echo could feel said heart in his throat as he read over your reply.
>Hey, Echo! I’m glad you didn’t lose my code. I heard the 501st shipped out the next day, hope you and your brothers are staying safe out there. And speaking of, don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself ;) <
It was a better reply than he could have hoped for. You even responded to his dumb little attempt at starting a conversation and was that a smiley face at the end there? No, it was winking! Echo didn’t even know people could send those in personal messages. He’d have to try it out, once he got the hang of talking to you in the first place, that is.
Kix was weighing in on some argument that had broken out between Fives and Jesse, but it was all background noise to Echo as he leaned back, smiling at the screen as he typed back to you.
Maybe Echo wasn’t too terrible at holding a conversation over a screen. For the past couple of weeks, Echo looked forward to the time he would have a quiet moment at night to check his data pad, to see your latest message sitting in his inbox. Both of you had decided on that first night that, given both his and yours busy schedules, you wouldn’t hold each other to replying on the spot, rather, just answering whatever was last said when there was time.
He appreciated the understanding, knowing that the life of a soldier rarely granted him enough leisure to shoot messages back and forth for any decent length of time. Sometimes, when the stars (or, specifically, your time zones) aligned, both of you could talk for at least a few short text blocks. One night, after he and his brothers made camp on some remote planet, he found he was lucky enough to have one of those fortuitous alignments.
>Can I ask a weird question? <
He had sent it with the intention of setting his pad down and working on checking his blaster, only hoping that he might get an answer sometime in the next day, but felt his heart race when there was an almost immediate ding in reply.
>Sure. You can ask anything, but my reply depends on what the question is. <
Echo swallowed hard, realizing that it was now or never.
>Would it be weird if I asked for a picture of you? <
He sweated the whole two minutes it took for the text to go through the thousands of comm buoys between there and Coruscant.
>A picture? Aw, you miss me that much, I’m flattered, mr soldier boy. <
You ended it with a cheeky heart and Echo knew his face was hot with a blush.
>Well everyone else in my contact board has a picture, everyone but you so I just thought I’d ask <
There, that response neither confirmed nor denied that he may or may not want the picture for other reasons. Like missing you, and wanting a reminder of how cute your face was.
Far far away from that backwater planet, back in the beating heart of the republic, you were sitting in your tiny one room apartment, biting your lip. So, the cutie wanted a picture did he? Currently you were sitting on your couch, work clothes tossed across the bed and the news playing in the background while you ordered take-out as a treat.
You weren’t the most put together, you admitted, but, after a quick scroll through all your pictures, you didn’t think any of them suited your needs either. After looking yourself over on the camera screen of your pad, you decided you looked good enough. Hair wasn’t bad, and, well, your oversized lounge top dropped off your shoulder in a way that, if you posed just right, looked very good. Just enough for Echo’s imagination to play with, if it wanted to play at all, that is.
After you were satisfied with the pic, you sent it before you could change your mind. The question was fair game, though, and the second the picture got through, you added a note to it.
>Your turn <
Was all it said, but it was enough.
Or, maybe not.
>My turn? <
He asked, which made you roll your eyes. Surely he wasn’t that dense. Your reply was quick.
>Uh yeah? I want a picture of you too, silly. <
While you waited on him, your dinner just so happened to arrive in a glorious knock at the door. Despite your eagerness to see what Echo did next, he would have to wait- you were starving after the day you had. You took your time getting your dishware, finding something other than the news to put on, and dishing out your food.
You had just settled back down on the couch when your pad went off again.
>I’m just not sure why, I have the same face every clone does it’s not special. <
You nearly choked on your dinner. What the kriff? Did Echo really just say that to you? You didn’t pretend to be an expert on clones, but even you knew that sharing those basic genetics didn’t mean all that.
Another short message dinged through then and it only made your jaw drop more.
>What I mean is you can just get any picture of a clone off the net and it would work. <
You thought your next words over long and hard. Afraid to say the wrong thing or go overboard with your reaction. In the end, you settled for something simple, and hoped he understood the full meaning behind it.
>But it wouldn’t be you, Echo. <
Back on his cot in that makeshift camp, Echo swallowed hard. He had never expected you to want a picture in return, and he definitely hadn’t expected you to say that when he expressed his confusion. His chest was all warm now, he didn’t know his insides could feel…what even was this? It felt almost prickly, but soft, it felt hazy, or fuzzy, maybe. He shifted around on his cot as he turned on the camera feature- then had to figure out how to take a picture of himself, which he’d never done before. Of his brothers? Sure, he had plenty of times, with his brother too, also plenty of times. But not him taking one of himself.
In the end it wasn’t a terrible attempt, his smile looked a little goofy, but the second time he tried it just looked like he had a bad toothache, so he went with goofy. Unfortunately his little photo shoot did not go unnoticed.
“Why’d you send that one?” Fives said as he read the messages over Echo’s shoulder.
“It was the best I could do,” Echo shrugged, it was too late anyway, it was already sent.
Fives snatched the data pad out of his hands again- why did his brother not understand personal belongings?! “Ah no no, we can do better! Come on, grab that rifle, we’re gonna make you look like a badass.”
It didn’t take long for the other troops of the 501st to get involved, and soon Echo was posing this way and that. But what really mortified him, was when General Skywalker himself chimed in, having them move to a spot just beyond the camp where an expanse of rugged desert stretched behind him.
“Okay, now tuck your helmet under your arm,” Anakin encouraged with an amused grin, just as Rex stepped back from adjusting the kama around his waist.
“Now that is a pose worthy of an ARC trooper!” Kix grinned as he held up the camera.
And that’s what they took, a shot of Echo standing in the desert, one foot propped up on a boulder, rifle held like a staff in one hand, and helmet tucked under the other. The moment Kix took the photo, Fives once again snatched the pad up and began typing.
“Have this pic instead, baby,” he said out loud as he typed, making Echo’s blood go cold, “it’s much more me, winky face and-”
“Fives dont se-!”
“-send!” Only then did Fives hand the data pad back to him, grin smug and full of himself, “You can thank me later, Echo.”
Echo’s brain had stopped working as he looked over the horror his brother had sent you. He had called you ‘baby’! Not once, as much as Echo had wanted to, had he ever used a pet name when talking to you! And the picture, it was worse than he thought. Sure it made him look heroic, but also like an egotistical ass who was trying to grandstand in your private chats.
“I think it looks great,” Tup said as Echo started to smack his face with the pad.
Thankfully he didn’t see your reaction on the other end, the way you rolled around on your couch in laughter at the portrait that definitely was not ‘him’. You much preferred the adorkable grin in the first picture to whatever that second picture was.
>Your brothers made you take that, didn’t they? <
Was all you sent in answer, deciding to spare him the string of laughing faces you wanted to add.
>Yes. And Fives typed the message with it, sorry. <
>Not to worry, but, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll stick with the first pic. <
>I’d prefer that, thanks. <
.
Thankfully those weren’t the only pictures sent over the next few weeks. Chances for cheeky moments came up, like when you two bonded over how loud Mavis and his brothers were as the Professional Pod Racing Finals were aired.
The boys were mostly just excited that they got to see the broadcast live for once, but Echo still thought it was amusing and sent you a picture of the boys yelling at the holo screen in their barracks. In turn you sent him a shot of you, sipping on some fizzy drink with eyebrows raised as Mavis stood on your couch in the background, making a choking motion at your own holo screen. “I know your pain” was the text across the picture, which made Echo laugh.
Another time you expressed interest in seeing his full armored ‘get up’ since you hadn’t when you met at the bar that night. Echo was happy to oblige, even goading you into sending your own ‘work selfie’ and getting a very nice picture in return. He wasn’t sure how you managed to make those gray officer uniforms look good, but you did, staring down at the camera from under that hat in a way that looked commanding and mysterious and-
Echo had to stow the picture away when his armor started to feel too tight.
But of course, photos weren't the only things you shared. You surprised Echo again and again with all the ways you showed him that you valued the time you two talked together. Like when you asked him if he liked games, then immediately found a version of Word-Path that you two could play together across the net. Much like your messages to each other, the game could be played during any free moment available, the board waiting patiently for the next move no matter how long it took one of you to make it.
Before he knew it, you were filling every free thought Echo had, and he was glad for it. He could pack away his feelings and fantasies when needed, he was still a damn good ARC trooper, but when there was a free moment to breathe? You. All you. Smiles over something funny you had said. Daydreams of seeing you in person again. Mulling over what to send you next in order to sound charming and witty and cute-
Cute, that’s right, you had called him cute the other day and he still felt giddy over something so small.
Kriff, Echo never knew someone could be as amazing as you. Never knew someone could make him feel the way you made him feel.
So, when the General gave them today’s good news, Echo knew he had to tell you ASAP.
>We’re coming back to Coruscant soon <
>That’s great! When? <
>We’ll be heading into hyperspace at 16:00 standard time, and with how long we’ll be in hyperspace, probably two rotations? <
Echo halted his typing, his mind seeming to stall. How was he going to ask you if you wanted to see him again? How could he come off as cool and calm without sounding like a jerk? Giving you the wrong idea was the last thing he wanted but-
>So, have any plans already? Maybe you could squeeze lil ol me into your schedule? <
Once again you proved that you could stop his heart without even trying. He held his breath as he read the text over again, like it was a dream come true. It was his dream come true, in a way.
As he typed out his reply Fives came up behind him, throwing an arm over his shoulder, “Guess who’s getting another shot with his angel,” he sang as he shook Echo. “Just told her we were heading back, and she invited me over for dinner at her place!”
“That’s great,” Echo said with a genuine smile. Though that first night had ended for the better, Echo knew that he had liked Mavis quite a bit, and, knowing she was taking an interest too, made him happy for his brother.
“So you know what that means,” Fives continued to beam.
Echo faltered, “Uh, that you’re gonna…not get drunk and get lucky this time?”
“No- well, yeah, actually, but no! I was talking about you and your own little hottie,” he winked, “this leaves you two open to have a night all to yourselves.”
A cough found its way into Echo’s throat then. Mostly just in surprise of course, because, the moment he thought about it, the more he liked that idea. He took a breath, and was able to type out his next words to you with little to no hesitation.
>Fives just told me that he and Mavis are planning a night together. Are you okay with it just being the two of us? <
>Sounds great. Is 79’s your usual hang out? <
>It is, but if you have a better idea I’m all ears. <
>If you’re up for it, I know a great spot. Has a stunning view and great food. Aaaand considering you bought my drinks last time, dinner can be on me this time.<
Well, how could he say no to that?
Two days later, Echo was certain he could have never properly prepared himself for this date. He had never thought about what a perfect date would be for him, but somehow, you had nailed it.
As if you could get any cooler, you had picked him up from the garrison riding a custom speeder bike, telling him to hang on tight as you shot into the air. He had never seen half the buildings and markers you pointed out to him as you drove, giving him a list of places you might visit later if he wanted. Of course, he was only half listening, mostly he was preoccupied with the way you felt between his arms. He was glad he had only left on the key parts of his armor today, letting the warmth of your body creep through his blacks.
Eventually, and almost to his annoyance, the speeder came to land on the tippy top of a building that, if Echo remembered your tour right, was some sort of office tower. Someone had taken up the roof with a rather ingenious idea: A cargo speeder converted to make and sell food, and the rest of the roof was taken up with little tables and picnic cushions. It was also the cleanest roof he’d ever seen, with a scutter droid booping about to pick up wayward trash and hovering lights bobbing about to cast it all in a romantic glow. Apparently, given the setting sun, you told him it was the perfect time to visit.
As soon as the pair of bothans handed you two your order, you were grabbing his hand again- which was not helping how sweaty and tight his skin was feeling at the moment. He didn’t want you to let go, though, and was glad you didn’t until you led him to the very edge of the roof, where one of those picnic-like futons lay.
He was chuckling while you pulled him down eagerly, crossing your legs and waving your hand at the open sky before you, “And here’s the view I promised you!”
Echo knew his face might hurt later from smiling so much, but he couldn't help it, there was definitely a view, he just didn’t have to look at the sky for it.
But, he did, because you asked him to, and though he’d rather look at your face, the city did look spectacular up here. Smaller buildings and lanes of racing speeders spread out before you both like a spider web, but the best part was that it was high up enough to see the sun dipping lower in the sky, a rare sight in this place of such tall skyscrapers.
“So…?” you drew out an expectant tone.
“It’s,” he laughed a little, eyes already back on you, “totally wizard.”
The proud smile that lifted your lips made his heart jump and he had to distract himself by unwrapping his food and shoving the first bite into his mouth.
Just like your communications, conversation seemed to spark easily enough. It truly amazed Echo how you two were always able to talk as if you had known each other for years. Anything and everything was on the table, though the lighthearted tone called for silly stories the two of you had yet to share with each other. You particularly liked his story involving Hardcase and Fives mimicking Jedi as they played around with broom handles- only to be caught in the act by General Skywalker.
The food was long devoured, the sun having set, and the food stall closed for the night. If Echo cared about anyone but the two of you, he would have noticed that you were the only ones still sitting on the rooftop. That was fine, preferable, even. He would shut out all of the world when he was with you.
In fact, the only thing that distracted him was something crackling overhead, and your face lighting up. “Ha! The forecast was actually right for once.” You nudged his shoulder and pointed at the sky, at the dark clouds collecting overhead. “I was hoping it would rain tonight, you’re gonna love this.”
Echo raised an eyebrow, looking around at the open roof exposed to the elements, and failed to see why getting rained on during your meal was something to love, but he supposed he trusted you.
“It rains a lot on Kamino, right?” your eyes shifted back to him, tone quiet, perhaps wondering how Echo felt about his homeworld, since he’d never mentioned it before.
He nodded, “Almost constantly. It was a bit weird, realizing how little rain some planets get.”
“Yeah, Coruscant doesn’t get much, but when it does, you wanna be in a place like this,” you nudged his shoulder again, turning back to the clouds just as another rumble of thunder groaned. “Ah! Here it comes.”
Echo looked up too, automatically squinting his eyes to prepare for the raindrops- but they never hit his skin. Those eyes went wide at the sight above you both. The rain was coming down in a torrent, but each drop was caught some meters above, dancing in midair before rolling off to the side of some invisible bubble. It was like watching thousands of tiny glass tears collecting to make a canopy above you.
“They have an antigrav device to keep stuff from falling on the roof,” you explained, and the intimacy of your tone caused Echo to tear his gaze away from the sight and back to you.
Though your eyes were still entranced by the dancing water above, Echo was enraptured by the soft look of utter awe and appreciation on your face.
“What do you think? Beautiful, right?”
If Echo was familiar with cheesy holo videos, he’d realize that saying “Yes,” in a dreamy tone while his eyes were wholly on you was one of the oldest tropes in the book. But, even if he did know that, it wouldn’t matter, he knew in that moment that his eyes would always be for you.
Swallowing hard, Echo took a chance, braving his impulse before he could back out. He leaned in closer to you, and brushed the very tips of his fingers across your cheek. That got your attention away from the sky above, and you turned your face to find him just a breath away.
That’s when his lips brushed yours.
It was feather light and sweet, a gentle press, he wanted to give you every opening to pull away if you wanted. Instead, your hand reached up to grip his bicep as you pulled him in closer. The fingers that had grazed your cheek were now cupping your face, drawing you in as the rain pattered overhead.
Despite the overwhelming feelings brewing in his chest, Echo managed to keep the affection from getting too wild. He liked this, liked how delicate the act was, careful, unrushed, enjoying the tenderness like hints of sugar on the tongue. You let out a little noise as you took your other hand and splayed it over his chest and he was about to wrap his arm around you.
But then, his commlink went off.
Only then did you two break apart. After blinking away the sugary haze of the kiss, you both looked down at his wrist. When Echo saw the comm code, his heart wanted to start a descent into his stomach. It was Captain Rex.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, starting to scramble to his feet, “let me take this?”
You nodded silently, and he thought he saw some worry etched on your face as he walked some ways away. The worry was warranted. His conversation was short, but his heart sank lower and lower the longer it went on and even after the call ended, he stood there for a moment, mind reeling against the news.
Swallowing hard, he straightened up and walked back to you, trying to keep the disappointment off his face. Even after he sat back down at your little picnic, he stayed silent for a few heartbeats.
“Anything important-”
“We’re shipping out again.” Echo didn’t mean to interrupt you, but the words came tumbling out like a toppled crate. “Got an emergency mission, shore leaves' been canceled.”
“O-oh.” Your reply was short, surprised, but Echo thought he could already hear the disappointment in your tone. That he had disappointed you. “Do you have to head back immediately?”
A breath left Echo’s chest as he finally met your gaze again. “We leave in ten standard hours, I have to make sure I’m on duty by then.” Another breath, this one harsher, pushing through his teeth like steam, “I just thought I’d have more time.” Thought I could have more time with you.
Ten hours, it wasn’t enough, hell, ten days wouldn’t be enough for him to get his fill of you.
“I wanted more time like this,” Echo admitted, and he hoped that looking into your eyes the way he was conveyed exactly what he meant by ‘this’.
He saw your throat tighten and your eyes narrow slightly in thought. “Ten hours?” you asked and he nodded. Another moment of thought passed, then his name was on your lips, a whisper as tender as the kiss you had just shared. You leaned in, your hand cupping his face. “Echo…come home with me.”
He blinked, “Wh-what?”
You were sliding closer to him now, leaving no space between your bodies. “I was just thinking, you have so little time left, maybe I could help make the most of it.” Those gorgeous, now half lidded, eyes of yours were trained on him as you dipped your face closer to his. Hot breath ghosted over his chapped lips, causing a pleasant shiver to ripple down his spine. “Echo, do you want to come home with me?”
He had wanted you since the moment you walked into that bar, so he answered, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you back into that intoxicating kiss. It was less careful this time, as he finally let some of his eager need bleed through. You didn’t seem to mind, wrapping your arm around him as you moaned against his lips.
When you finally parted again, his verbal answer was barely more than a hot breath of a word, “Please.”
You were still panting from the heat of the kiss as you obliged. Not taking your eyes off him, you took his hands as you rose, and walked him back to your speeder.
Your apartment felt like home.
Echo had grown to hate the sleeping pods on Kamino, and the only reason he still considered the planet home was because of his brothers. The barracks on the Resolute were a little better, livened up by members of his legion, his family. But you little home? The little oasis tucked away in the city? It was warmth and comfort and safety. He had only spent a few hours there, but he wanted to curl up in its inviting and personable air, wanted to lay with you in this private haven for days.
But Echo didn’t have days.
He stepped out of the refresher, armor back in perfect order, and he was glad he hadn't shut the door, as the sound of it might have woken you. The lights were dimmed, casting your gorgeous body into a romantic glow. You were laying on your stomach, arms tucked under the pillows and face buried in the sheets. The covers were barely covering you, giving him a wonderful view. He stepped closer to the bed, smiling softly at the peaceful look on your face, the way your hips shifted to a more comfortable pose, and how your hand reached out to knead at the vacant pillow beside you.
He didn’t want to leave.
You had been so perfect with him. Taking him apart piece by piece, kiss by kiss, touch by touch. Patient and sincere, you didn’t expect too much, but took everything he offered. Letting him- begging him to get lost in you, praising his hands, moaning for his lips, taking all of him. The phantom feel of your touch was still making him shiver, and the record of your voice playing back in his mind would haunt his lonely nights for years, he knew it.
Maker, you were perfect.
It was a stupid, fleeting thought, but when Echo had pulled you close afterwards, when he held you, he mused that maybe he wasn’t made for the war. Maybe he had been made for you. Fives was right. He was a stupid romantic, and all he wanted was to be your stupid romantic.
He needed to go.
The fleet would be leaving in little more than an hour, he needed to go, but he was glued to the spot, watching your form in the dim light. Maybe he had put too much of himself into this, maybe you didn’t feel the connection the same way he did, maybe he was just being clingy and hyperbolic, maybe-
You stirred, brows scrunching in a cute little frown, and it was only then that Echo realized that he had reached out to stroke your hair. You blinked up at him, the haze of sleep clinging to your smile.
“Hey,” your voice was husky, even more so than when you had called his name hours before. Then, your eyes took in his armor. “Is it really time to leave already?”
He nodded, and had to clear his throat before speaking, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, no,” you lifted yourself up and the blanket fell from what little it had been covering before. “I’m glad you did, better than waking up to find you gone.”
That put some of his earlier thoughts at ease, and even more were soothed when you sat on your knees at the edge of the bed, put your arms around him and kissed him again. His hands went to the small of your back, pulling you in even closer, hoping the cold hardness of his armor wasn’t too harsh against your naked body. Your fingers found their way to his hair, just like they had when he was on his knees for you.
He had trouble opening his eyes when you broke the heated kiss, the haze of lewd memories clouding his mind. When they did flutter open, the hand that wasn’t holding you close moved up to cup your cheek. You hummed at the contact, placing a kiss on his palm.
“I…I wish you weren’t going,” you whispered suddenly, and Echo felt his heart soar. “I know you have to, though, ‘out there fighting for all of us.”
“For you,” the words tumbled out in a hushed breath, but he didn’t regret them. “C-can I see you again?” Damn, why did he have to stumble in his words now? “When I come back, I mean.” He swallowed, “I’d really like to see you again.”
You blinked up at him, smile sweet, sincere, as you repeated the same reassuring word he had before you took him home. “Please.”
.
Work was agonizing for you now.
Before, your breaks had been a welcomed reprieve from the frequency bans and code lines, but now your those moments were just filled with thoughts of him. Worried thoughts. Echo, your sweet, gentle Echo. You weren’t sure when you started thinking of him as yours, maybe after you’d spent hours worshiping each other, but you didn’t suppress the thoughts, not now.
You had to focus on work.
But how could you when your heart sank any time a coworker mentioned the 501st? How could you when in the back of your mind you wondered if he’d had time to send you another message, time to assure you he was still alive despite being sent to the front lines again. Some part of you wondered how anyone could blame you for being distracted, but, thankfully, an even larger part of you pulled yourself together. It was hard to think straight with Echo never far from your thoughts, but you had to. Your work was too important, it could save too many lives. So you buckled down and told yourself that worry could wait for down time.
And oh, by the force did it.
You found yourself watching the news more and more often at night. Caught your fingers opening your inbox just to double check that you hadn’t missed a message. Maker, you had it bad, didn’t you? Thankfully the man who had so effortlessly stolen your heart was good at easing your worry. His messages to you hadn’t slowed, he contacted you any moment he could, played his next word in your ongoing game, sent pictures of him and his brothers with that dorky smile on his face.
How could you not fall for him?
And that’s what had happened, wasn’t it? Somewhere between the silly pics and kisses in the rain, you had fallen head over heels for the trooper. Fallen faster and harder than you ever had before. It scared you at first, how deep your feelings ran, but you didn’t have the heart to hide from them, not when you remembered the way he had held you, not when he had looked as though his heart was breaking when he left you that night.
Even still, you couldn’t tell him, could you?
Just how deep the well of your feelings for him were. It was too soon to say all that, perhaps. So you’d be content with those cute messages and online games. Well, not quite. One night you couldn’t resist the urge to see his face again. While you were making dinner, he had replied to your last text, mentioning that they would, thankfully, be in hyperspace for a while, giving them a much needed break. So, you tried something new, and asked if he had time for a holo call.
Your heart was leaping stupidly when, not five minutes later, there was a beep sounding from your home holo device. You pressed the ‘accept’ button without even checking who it was and, from the waist up, Echo’s image flickered to life. His brows were high, mouth open just slightly.
“Cyare, is something wrong? Are you okay?”
A relieved laugh came out as you leaned against your kitchen counter. “I’m fine, I just…wanted to hear your voice? Or maybe see your face.” Or maybe both, you added to yourself.
The holo crackled as he let out a breath, then, his image was smiling back at you. “In that case, I’m glad you asked me to call, because I…” he scratched the back of his neck, “I missed your voice too, and your face.” His eyes went wide. “The face part sounded weird, didn’t it?”
Another laugh, “No, it didn’t, it’s nice to know my face is missed.”
And just like that, you two settled into conversation, just like at the bar, just like on that rooftop. Everything just felt so right with Echo, even your heart wrenching worry.
That wasn’t the only time you two spoke via holo call. Though, the second time was more heartbreaking than your constant worry, because it was a reminder of why you worried.
You had just been cleaning up before bed when the message came in.
>I know it’s late on Coruscant, but are you awake? <
Quicker than you thought possible with all the space between you two, the moment you replied “yes” a call came in. And your heart sank at the sight that flickered before you. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes apparent even in the blue hues, face unshaven, short hair ary as if he had been pulling at it.
“Hey,” his voice was too horse, too…broken.
“Echo, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
He was silent for a bit, eyes averted, then, he drew in a breath, shaky, ragged. “We…we lost a lot of brothers today.” There was a sound behind him, like plastoid scraping against durasteel. The shake of the holo that followed confirmed that Echo had slid down a wall. Where was he? The background was dead silent so not the barracks, you prayed he wasn’t curled up in some random hallway alone.
“Talk to me,” you whispered, “I’m here, Echo, whatever you need, I’m here.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling another ragged breath between his teeth. “They hadn’t even been here that long,” he whispered, “they were so proud, so ready to serve in the legion. Some didn’t even have their names yet-” your name fell from his lips with a sob and it broke your heart that you couldn’t put your arms around him, pull him close so he knew he wasn’t alone. “No one’s gonna remember them, no one but me and a few others who bothered to talk to them. That’s all I kept thinking about, that no ones even gonna know what they were like, or know them well enough to miss them.”
You swallowed the tears that were building behind your eyes, Echo didn’t need that right now, he needed you. “Tell me what they were like.” The words were out before you could think them over, but you doubled down on the sentiment. “Talk about what they were like, so I can remember them. I’ll grieve for them with you, Echo.”
When his eyes darted back to yours, you saw something trail down his cheek and oh, how you longed to brush that tear away. You raised your hand to where his face would have been, hoping that he at least got the sentiment. He closed his eyes, perhaps imagining your palm on his cheek. A moment passed, and his next intake of breath was at least a little calmer.
“Okay.”
Hours passed, but you wouldn’t dream of complaining. He told you about all of them, the ones with names, the ones with numbers, the ones he’d only spoken to once. Told you all the little quirks and subtle traits they had, every notable thing they had said to him. And, he told you about their deaths.
It got harder to hold back those tears, but you managed it for him, because it was what he needed. Eventually he was spent, drained of anymore words for his fallen brothers. He still looked so tired, but you were glad when he told you they had another three days before their next mission. At least he had some time to rest.
Though, your heart clenched when he mentioned the possibility of a covert operation of some kind.
“I should let you sleep,” he said eventually, “ ‘m sorry I kept you up this long.”
“Don’t apologize, you needed to talk.” When all he did was nod you added, “Are you sure you’re ready to hang up?”
Something told you not to hang up, to keep him as close as the stars allowed.
“I can stay on and-”
“No, no, I think I’m ready for bed too,” he somehow managed the smallest smile then, “thank you. Thank you for staying up with me this long.”
You smiled back at him, still longing to pull him into your embrace. “Echo, anytime you need me, I’m here, you know that, right?”
He was silent for a beat, just staring back at you with tired, almost astonished eyes.
“I love you.”
Who would have known those words sealed your fate.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words and before you could even fully register what he said, he whispered your name, and repeated the affection with a firmer tone.
“I love you so much. I probably should have waited til I saw you in person again, but, I couldn’t stomach waiting, not after what happened today. I…I hope it’s not too soon or…”
“I love you too, Echo.”
Some more tension left his shoulders, and his expression relaxed. “When I see you again, I’ll say it properly, with you wrapped up in my arms.”
People rarely see heartache and pain coming, and your fate was sealed.
“I’ll hold you to that, trooper. But, for now, you better get some sleep, okay?”
A fate of longing and grief.
“Okay, goodnight, cyare.”
You couldn’t have known your love wouldn’t last.
Three days later, Echo warned you that he had to go silent, that their next mission was a covert op, that it might be awhile before you got another message, but that he’d call you the moment he could.
To tell you he was okay.
The ding came when you were on your lunch break.
To tell you he was safe.
Hoping it was Echo you opened the message instantly.
To tell you he loved you again.
Your heart stopped when you saw that it was Fives, not Echo, but his brother in arms using his comm.
In the end, he was a hero.
The device clattered to the ground, rage and tears wracking your body fast and hard.
>I know he would want me to tell you, so it didn’t come from some stranger. <
Your body was soon to follow and Mavis was by your side in an instant.
>He was trying to save our shuttle <
She held you tight as the sobs tore your throat apart.
>He was a hero. <
You didn’t want him to be a hero! You wanted him here and safe and alive!
>I’m so sorry. <
#echo x reader#arc trooper echo x reader#clone x reader#star wars x reader#arc trooper echo#series: echo and comms#deeja writes#echo x you#arc trooper echo x you#sw
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Separate
June 2018
Em wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected when Blake knocked at her door. She knew he had a triple header coming up, and he’d be giving her his keys, but the pass in his hand was unexpected.
“What’s this?”
“Your pass for Silverstone? I know it’s been two weeks since Monaco but you haven’t forgotten what they look like, have you?” She forced a smile as she handed it back to him.
“I’m not going to Silverstone.”
“Dan said you were?”
“I haven’t talked to Dan in like a week. I know it’s a busy race, I figured I’d watch it at home.”
“Look, I’ve got to go to the airport. I’m heading to France and I won’t be home for three weeks. Take the pass and talk to Dan, if you come you come.” She took the VIP branded pass from him, Emma Smyth and “Guest of Daniel Ricciardo” on the back. The selfie she’d sent Dan the Christmas before was her photo.
“Yeah, sure. Anything you need me to look out for?”
“Should be fine. I’ll see you!”
Em closed the door after waving Blake down the stairs, pulling up her texts with Dan. Once she’d left Monaco they’d sent a couple a day, but after his race in Montreal there was nothing. It was a couple of selfies, a photo of the stupid hipster coffee shop she’d done a meeting in. He’d sent one word answers to most of it.
It was stupid. She shouldn’t be upset. They’d been friends and they’d fucked and she was more than happy to do it. And the consequences were they weren’t friends.
The pass felt like a slap in the face. Would she turn up and he just thought she was going to get into bed with him? She’d fuck him for the paddock pass? No. No way.
She didn’t want to think about Dan like that. The man she’d called a friend wouldn’t treat her that way. But how else was she supposed to feel?
Blake gave me the pass. Thanks for the offer but I wasn’t going to go to Silverstone.
The words stared up from her screen before she hit send. It was the first message between them in three days and it felt like the end of an era.
Barely thirty seconds later the text bubbles appeared as she watched Dan start typing, stop, and start again.
Why not? I miss you.
Because we don’t talk anymore. I think we made a mistake.
She didn’t even count to five before her phone started ringing, Dan’s face appearing as the contact photo. She slid to answer it.
“Hey, Dan.” She kept her voice calm.
“What mistake, Em? What are you talking about?”
“You’re actually going to make me say it?”
“Considering I’ve no idea what you’re on about, yeah.”
“Monaco. Us sleeping together. It was a stupid mistake that we shouldn’t have done because we ruined our friendship. So yeah, I’m not going to Silverstone.”
“Fuck.” She heard someone calling his name in the background. “Yeah, yeah. Two minutes I need to finish this call! The plane’s waiting for me. I…fuck. Look we need to talk in person. I’m not back in the UK until the Tuesday after Austria. Can we meet up?”
She weighed it up. Em missed him. She missed the silly texts and the ridiculous YouTube videos. It was so stupid.
“Yeah. I’ll send you a coffee shop we can head to.”
“Thanks.” She could hear the relief in his voice.
“Oh Danny? Good luck this weekend.”
“Thanks, Emmy. Yeah, Max, I’m coming. Give me a minute. I’m sorry I’ve got to-“
“Go on. Fly safe. Don’t throw Max out of the plane.”
“I’ll do my best. Thanks, Emmy. I’ll see you soon.”
She lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. No more sex. That had to be the first thing they talked about. It had to be.
A few hours later her phone buzzed as she worked, the “One new text from Dimples” appearing. She opened it to a selfie of Dan grinning from the plane, his free hand pointing at a sleeping teammate on his shoulder.
Apparently my shoulder is comfortable?
Max looks comfy.
She put her phone down before Dan could text her back, curling up with her iPad to finish her last task of the day. No more sex with Dan. No more. Friendship would be enough. It was more than she thought she’d get with anyone so it was worth it.
#call it what you want fic#ciwyw drabble#daniel ricciardo imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula one fanfic
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Ours | Chapter Five
Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)
Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!
Content/Warnings: ANGST! M*gan F*x being toxic, swearing, protective Col
Megan stans don't come for me. I really don't give a shit.
Presley
I sleep in late the next day. It’s not like I have any reason to get up early. Colson has encouraged me to just enjoy some time off and not work. Normally, I’d argue with him and get a job anyway, but he’s right. I’ve been working since I was old enough to have a job and I haven’t really taken a break since. My body and my mind need the rest.
I sprawl out in our huge bed and take a cleansing breath. It’s so nice living here with Colson. I thought I enjoyed being alone, but it turns out I like being with Colson more. I still can’t believe this is my life. If you were to tell me six months ago I’d be where I am now, I would’ve laughed in your face. It still feels too good to be true, but I’m just trying to be grateful for every moment.
After waking up slowly, I roll over and grab my phone off the nightstand. I notice I have a text from Colson and I open it immediately. Hey gorgeous. Come visit me at the studio if you feel like it. Take whatever car you want. Love you.
I smile and love-react to his message, sending back a loving one of my own. My heart flutters at everything this man says to me. I hope I always react this way to him. I swipe back to my texts to see that I have one from an unsaved number. My brow furrows as I start to read it and my veins go icy when I comprehend what I’m reading.
Hi Presley. This is Megan, Colson’s ex. Someone gave me your number. I always said he shouldn’t have trusted his inner circle so much. Can we talk?
I have no idea what to say. I read it through three times before locking my phone and setting it aside. My first instinct was to take a screenshot and send it to Colson, but I don’t want to bother him while he’s working, especially with messages about his toxic ex that messed him up. Colson has told me a little more as time has gone on. Megan was honestly emotionally abusive toward him. She blamed him for any issue in their relationship, made him seem like a horrible partner, and was all around super shady. I don’t trust her in the slightest, and I don’t like that someone gave her my number. I need to figure out who it is.
Tell me who gave you my number and we can talk.
I’ll never reveal my sources. You’ll have to figure that out on your own.
A few minutes go by before she messages me again.
I’m going to be nice because I feel like I need to warn you. Your aura is nice and Colson’s is dark. Be careful. He’s going to make you seem like the bad guy. Just watch out for yourself, babe.
I’m fuming. I want to tell her to go fuck herself, to leave me the hell alone and to never, ever call me babe again. But I force myself to take some deep breaths. I’m not texting her back. That much I know for sure. I don’t need her bullshit warnings. I trust my boyfriend wholeheartedly and I believe every word he says about her.
The rest of the day, I’m on edge. I work out until I’m pouring sweat, trying to ease my mind. I take a long shower, making sure to shave and exfoliate and moisturize and all the important things. When I still feel like a disaster, I grab a set of keys and take off toward the studio.
I text Colson, who comes right outside to get me. I watch as his tall frame lopes out into the sunlight and I can’t help but smile. Being around him always makes me feel better, no matter what. He looks perfect in his sweats and t-shirt, a hat backwards on his head. His little smile when he sees me makes my tummy flip. I get out of the car and let him scoop me into his arms.
“There’s my girl,” he murmurs into my hair. “Mm, you smell so good.”
“Thank you,” I say, closing my eyes as I breathe his scent in, too. I relax just a little bit more in his arms. It’s hard to feel stressed when Colson is holding me.
He sets me on my feet and grins at me. He’s excited; I can tell by the gleam in his eyes. “Wanna come hear what we’ve been working on?” he asks.
I make myself perk up, smiling brightly. “Sure!” Colson grins and offers his hand. I lace our fingers together and let him lead me into the studio.
Slim is the only one there and he nods to me. “Hey, Pres.”
“Hey, Slim!” I greet, bending to hug him where he sits in his chair.
“Alright, Slim, run it back,” Colson commands. He’s so cute, like a golden retriever eager to show you his new toy. Slim wastes no time in pushing play. “Babe, you’ll never guess who we got to be on the song.”
“Who?” I ask.
Colson grins. “Oliver fucking Sykes.”
My gasp and shock are genuine. “Seriously?”
Colson nods quickly. “Seriously. Isn’t that fucking crazy? This song’s gonna be the hardest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Ight, now shut up so she can hear it,” Slim tells him with a chuckle. Colson holds up his hands and goes quiet as Slim starts the song over.
I listen as the music starts and I already like it. As soon as it goes into the chorus, I can’t help but move, nodding my head and swaying a little. He’s right, the song goes hard. It’s amazing, a little darker than what I heard on TTMD, and I love it.
“That’s what we have so far, but Oli will do the second verse,” Colson says as Slim turns off the song.
“Guys, that’s amazing!” I gush, meaning it. “God, I’m so excited for this album.”
“Shit, me too,” Colson agrees.
“Alright, bro, I gotta go,” Slim says, getting to his feet. “You need anything else?”
“Nah, man, thanks,” Colson says, giving Slim a hug. Slim waves at me and heads off, leaving Colson and me alone in the studio. All at once, the anxiety returns. We need to talk about it, but I don’t want to kill his good mood.
Colson saunters over to me and slides his hands over my shoulders, looking down at me. “How’s my girl?” he asks quietly. “You seem a little tense.”
I shrug and smile weakly. “I’m fine,” I lie.
Colson gives me a look that says, be fucking for real. I sigh and hang my head, but he just cups my chin so I have to look at him. “Baby,” he says. “You can talk to me.”
I shift on my feet. “I don’t want to ruin this,” I say, gesturing vaguely to the studio.
“It’s fine,” Colson says, shaking his head. He puts a hand on my lower back and guides me to the couch where we sit side by side, his body angled toward mine. “I’ll be fine. I want to know what’s bugging you.” Worried blue eyes search mine and I sigh, taking out my phone. I open up the thread of messages and hand it to Colson. I don’t look at him while he reads. I can’t bear to watch the moment his good mood descends into anger or irritation or anxiety or whatever those texts might conjure.
“What the fuck is this shit?” Colson mutters.
“Is that really her?” I ask. “Not a fake number?”
Colson shakes his head. “No, this is definitely her,” he says. “Who the fuck shared your number with her? That’s what pisses me off most of all.”
“Really?” I ask.
Colson nods. “This behavior from her ass doesn’t surprise me. I wonder if she texted me.” He gets up and grabs his phone. He had notifications silenced for everyone but me, but when he turns the setting off, sure enough, there are messages from her. He angles the phone so we can both read.
You moved on. Never thought you’d actually do it.
Does she know who you really are? Does she know you’re not actually ready for a monogamous commitment?
Be careful. She seems like a sweet girl.
Colson looks ready to explode. He locks his phone and then, out of nowhere, heaves it hard at the glass separating our room from the recording studio. I jump, startled, and look at him with wide eyes. “Colson.”
He gets to his feet and paces the room like a wild animal, fury radiating off him. He tears his hands through his hair, not even caring or noticing when his hat topples to the floor. “Why can’t she just leave me the fuck alone?”
“Col,” I say quietly, but he doesn’t seem to hear me. It’s almost like he forgot I’m here. My heart beats louder and I twist my fingers nervously. I don’t like seeing him this angry.
“Who the fuck gave her your number?” Colson snaps.
“Colson, I don’t know!” I snap back, voice high with fear, and it’s what finally breaks Colson out of his dark moment.
His face softens and he rushes to me, crouching down to be at my level. “Hey,” he says gently, cupping my face. “I’m sorry, baby.” His thumbs gently stroke back and forth over my cheeks. “I’m sorry. She gets under my skin, and I hate traitors. I hate that someone betrayed our trust and gave her your number.”
“It’s okay,” I say weakly, but Colson shakes his head, jaw clenching.
“It’s not okay, Presley,” he says firmly. “You should never have received messages like those. I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I scoff. “None of this is your fault.”
Colson just shakes his head and then sighs, hanging his head. His hands are hot on my shoulders and he’s shaking a little. I know losing Megan was hard, but I didn’t expect him to still harbor this much anger. Is he angry because she still affects him? Because she has my number and someone betrayed us? All of the above? My head is starting to hurt.
“I’m going to reach out to her,” Colson says, meeting my eyes. Nerves spike in me but Colson just strokes my cheek. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise. I’m going to tell her ass off and make her tell me who gave her your number.”
“You don’t have to if it’s going to be hard talking to her again,” I say quietly. “I don’t want you to have to deal with this all over again.”
“Well, now that she brought you into it, it’s my problem all over again,” Colson says firmly. “No one messes with my girl. Goddamn condescending text messages. I can’t stand her.”
“Do you want me to respond? To ask her to leave me alone?” I ask.
Colson shakes his head. “Don’t talk to her. Block her number,” he says. “I don’t want her talking to you. She’s so toxic.”
“Okay,” I say quietly.
Colson sighs and sits beside me again, wrapping an arm around me. “I love you, Pres,” he mutters, kissing my head. “I’m sorry this is happening and I’m sorry for my reaction.”
“I understand, baby,” I say honestly. “I know this brings up old shit for you.”
Colson’s jaw works. “I don’t miss her or this shit. Not at all,” he mutters. “I’ll take care of it, okay?”
“Okay,” I say. Colson watches me for a second and then presses his lips to mine, kissing me soft and slow. I relax in his arms and he seems to relax in mine. I trust him. He’ll figure it out.
Colson
I feel like the worst boyfriend in the world as I drive to my destination. I made a choice today, and I hope it’s the right one.
After Megan messaged me and Presley, I waited a while to text her back. Before Presley, I would’ve reacted instantly and said a lot of things I would regret. I waited until the next morning to text her. At first, I demanded she tell me who gave her Presley’s number, and Megan, manipulative as always, told me that if I talked to her in person, she’d tell me. The catch is that Presley isn’t allowed to come with me. Knowing Pres, she’s not going to let that happen.
So I didn’t tell her.
I wipe sweat from my brow, my anxiety a heavy rock in my stomach as I drive out of the city. I’m meeting Megan at a private beach I know. It needs to be private because if anyone takes pictures of us, I’m fucked. But meeting somewhere this private makes me feel even worse about hiding this from my girlfriend.
I’ll tell her after it’s all over. I’ll ask forgiveness rather than permission. We’ll see how that works out for me.
Megan’s already there when I pull onto the secluded dirt road. I find her car already parked, her surgically modified body propped against the hood. Her arms are crossed over her huge chest and I can tell she’s trying to look sexy. I swallow bile that’s risen in my throat.
I park and hop out of the car, ready to get this over with. “Megan,” I say, leaning against the hood of my own car and mimicking her body language.
She looks me up and down with those eyes that used to melt me. “Buddha. No hug?”
“Don’t call me that.” My voice is quiet but seething. “You lost all right to call me that when you fucked me over.”
Megan clucks her tongue and rolls her eyes, flicking her hair off her shoulder. “Oh, please. You knew what we were.”
I open my mouth to fight back but then think better of it. There’s no point fighting. We’re not here to make up. “Who gave you my girl’s number?” I ask, jumping right to the point.
Megan cocks her head to the side and pouts mockingly. “Aw, your girl. So cute.” She pushes off the car and takes a few steps closer to me. I stay exactly where I am. “We’re going to talk, and then I’ll tell you.”
“Why did you lie to Presley?” I ask. “You know I’m a good dude.”
Megan snickers. “I know. But it convinced you to talk to me, didn’t it?” she asks, looking up at me under her lashes. She’s trying to seduce me. That much is obvious. But where it used to turn me on, now it makes me slightly nauseous. I don’t know what I ever saw in her.
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask tightly.
Megan sizes me up. Her eyes flick to mine. “Do you love her?” she asks.
I’m a little caught off guard by her question, but I clear my throat and nod. “I do.”
Some emotion flashes across Megan’s face for a split second before it’s replaced by her calm demeanor once again. “Cute.”
“What’s the point of this, Megan?” I ask, throwing up my hands in exasperation.
Megan sniffs, and her confidence falls away. She clears her throat and glances self-consciously to the side. “I messed up,” she says finally, voice soft.
“What?” I ask, leaning forward a little.
“I messed up,” she says louder, meeting my eyes. “I was confused. I didn’t know what I wanted.” She takes a step closer and tentatively places her hands on my chest. “I know what I want now, Buddha. It’s you.”
I grab her wrists and shove her hands off of me, then move around the side of my car, putting distance between us. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I balk. “I just told you I’m in love with Presley.”
“Oh, Presley,” she says mockingly, face scrunching up in disgust. “There’s no way she measures up to me and you know it.”
“You know nothing,” I growl. “This,” I say, gesturing between the two of us, “is not happening ever again. I’m marrying Presley someday. Got that? So tell me who the fuck told you and we can end this.”
“It was her fucking brother!” Megan snaps. She doesn’t usually break. She was always cool, calm, and collected, one of her many manipulation strategies, always making me look like the crazy one when I got emotional.
My veins turn to ice. “Cash told you?” I ask.
Her smirk is one of satisfaction. She surprised me and she knows it. “Sure did.”
“Explain,” I say tightly.
“I told you I’d tell you who,” she says, shrugging, “not what happened.”
I stare at her for a second, shake my head and scoff, and open my door. “Bye, Megan. Don’t ever reach out to me or my girlfriend ever again.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” she says, and her voice actually wobbles. I stiffen and look over at her. Fuck. I hate making people cry. But then I look at her, really look at her, and remember the way she made me feel. I remember just how fucking low I was all because of her.
With that, I smirk, look her up and down critically, and scoff. “Nah. You’re the one who made a mistake.” And then, I’m gone.
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