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#i’ll say it again I should NOT read at work omg
midnightorchids · 1 month
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I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!
Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.
Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.
Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.
Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!
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Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.
Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.
The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.
You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.
He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.
You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.
All of it was coming together now.
The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.
Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.
You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.
“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.
“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.
“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.
“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.
You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.
You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.
“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.
“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”
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headkiss · 1 month
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I LOVE YOUR HOTCH FICS!!! <3 You write him so well, and I just adore how soft he is 🥺! I've read a fic where the author basically describes him as a Jane Austen hero, and I can't help but agree (what are you thoughts?)! Sooooo, is it possible to get a fic where Hotch reads to sick!reader to help her sleep? TYSM!
omg ur so right he is very much jane austen coded!!! tysm for requesting i hope u like it!!! | 0.7k of fluff, sick reader and gentle hotch <3
Aaron’s job isn’t one that allows him to take much time off of work, even when he wants to. You know it, and would never be angry at him for it, so when you wake up feeling a little too warm, you reassure him that you’ll be fine by yourself.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” He asks, already dressed in his suit and sitting on the edge of the bed by your waist. “I can if you want me to.”
Of course the only time he’d be eager to ask for a day off is when it’s in your favor. He doesn’t even call out when he’s the one who’s sick.
“No, you can’t, Aaron. They need you over there,” you say, hoping your smile is convincing enough. “I’m just gonna sleep this off. I’ll be fine.”
He sighs, reluctant to leave even though he sort of has to, even though he knows you can take care of yourself. He just hates not being the one to do so, anyways.
Hotch leans over to press a kiss to your heated cheek, “I’ll call you when I can to check in, okay?”
“You really don’t have to-”
“Let me do that, at least, sweetheart.”
“Okay.”
He kisses your cheek again and then stands to leave, pausing at the bedroom doorway to turn back and look at you one more time. You snake your hand out from under the sheets and give him a thumbs up.
Aaron calls you exactly five times throughout the day, most of them quick, couple-minute phone calls where he asks how you’re doing, if you’ve eaten. One of them during his lunch—which he rarely takes—and lasting nearly half an hour, him doing most of the talking.
The sun is close to setting by the time he gets home, where Aaron finds you curled up on the couch in the comforter from your bed, your skin clammy, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
His heart aches a little bit at the sight, because he knows you’ve been downplaying how sick you feel all day to keep him from worrying, as if anything could.
Hotch walks over to the couch, crouching in front of where your head is propped up on a pillow. “Sweetheart.”
“Hi, Aaron.”
He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning at how warm you feel. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a fever? You should be in bed.”
“Got too warm in there, then too cold out here, so I took the comforter. Hope that’s okay.”
The medicine you took hours ago hasn’t done much other than make you a little groggy, and it’s clear in the way you speak with your cheek still squished to the pillow, your eyelids heavy.
Aaron’s hand is still on your forehead, like he can will your fever away with his touch. “Have you slept? Are you hungry?”
You shake your head, “don’t really feel like eating.”
“You should,” he says. “How about I run you a bath and make you some soup? Then bed.”
“Okay, doctor Hotchner.”
He shakes his head, though the small smile on your face as you tease him makes him smile, too. Even feeling poorly, you manage to brighten his day. A ray of sunshine.
He does exactly as promised, and after a bath and a generous bowl of soup that Hotch made sure you finished, you’ve got your head in his lap, his hand gently pushing your hair back.
Looking down, Aaron finds you still awake, blinking up at him lazily. “Aren’t you tired?”
“It’s been hard to sleep,” you say, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Will you read to me?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Pick a book.”
You choose, and whine when he gets up to go get it even though he’s back in a matter of seconds. With your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh once again, he starts reading to you.
You’ve always loved Aaron’s voice, the way it sounds when he speaks to you, the low and calm tone that seems to wash over you. He’s using a gentle voice now, a quiet one that you love even more because it’s one he saves for you. Intimate and lovely.
It’s only with his hand in your hair and his voice in your ears that you’re finally able to fall asleep.
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marlenesluv · 4 months
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charles + over-worked uni gf (hc)
note: i personally love when im doing hw, and then i find one of these “f1 driver x uni!gf!reader” fics cuz im like “omg me and i love this driver!” so i hope, if you are in uni, that you take breaks and make sure you’re eating, drinking water, and sleeping. ik it’s easy to skip these things <3
paining: charles leclerc x uni!reader (max near the end)
warnings: fluff but it goes to smut…oops, couldn’t resist. slight exhibitionism with max (i went off topic mb)
head-cannon: charles’ gf is overworking herself in uni, and he hates seeing her so stressed out
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۵ being charles’ girlfriend was incredible, you loved the fans, the races, and obviously, charles.
۵ but being in uni at the same time? that was hard. you spent races writing papers. plane rides were spent reading textbooks. and any free time? spent in person for lectures and study groups.
۵ and charles supported you. he understood if you couldn’t make a race because of a test. or if you needed time alone because the paddock was overstimulating along with your workload.
۵ like now, you were holed up in charles’ driving room during free practice in singapore because you had a lab due at 11:59pm, and the time in the corner of your laptop mocked you as the deadline grew closer and you grew more frustrated.
۵ charles hated seeing his girlfriend stressed. you should be in the paddock having fun, not nearly in tears in his drivers room :(
۵ so when he comes back from practice, he’s determined to spend the rest of the night with you.
۵ “pack up. we are going to get some takeout and i’ll help you study. then we can watch a movie, okay?” and it wasn’t even a question. he was already packing your books in your bag and throwing your pens in your pouch.
۵ charles helps you grab all your stuff, and hold the door open for you as you guys leave and say goodbye to the engineers.
۵ and although he had plans with carlos, carlos understands. everyone knows how much you study and work to get the grades you have. so no, carlos doesn’t mind when charles ditches him to cheer you up. he has isa to bother anyways.
۵ speaking of isa, she’s giving you a hug and telling you to relax tonight, enjoy spending time with your boyfriend.
۵ when you and charles got back to the hotel room with bags of takeout, charles makes a bed on the floor and puts your favorite movie on.
۵ “you didn’t need to do this, char. i know you’re busy, you have a race soon…” you would trail off, cuddling closer into his side.
۵ charles playfully rolls his eyes and kisses your head, he keeps telling you how much he loves you and would rather spend time with you than practice.
۵ he just wants you to de-stress, no matter what it takes…
۵ so yeah, as you’re watching the movie, charles might get a little bored, and he looks over and sees your cracking your knuckles, which he knows is a nervous habit of yours.
۵ the way you bit the inside of your cheek in attempt to calm down, and the only thing charles has going through his head is ‘you need to help her relax.’
۵ so when charles lifts the blanket off of you and helps you out of your sweats, who are you to question him? he knows you like the back of his hand.
۵ “come here, mon cherié.” charles lifts your hips, only to make you shimmy over his mouth. “char, i don’t want to-“
۵ he rolls his eyes, scoffing and making you put all your weight down.
۵ thirty minutes could go by and he wouldn’t even think about coming up for air, he is absolutely pussy drunk. all that he can think is making you cum over and over and over again.
۵ and obviously, the man is skilled, he knows how to use his tongue and fingers, having you absolutely melting above him. your hands shooting out to hold onto his hair for stability.
۵ you feel his laugh, making you gasp and squirm, which causes him to hold your hips tighter and go a little slower.
۵ this could go on for hours.
۵ his stamina is incredible, he works out all the time. if anything, it’s a neck workout since he’s holding his neck mid-air to meet your core.
۵ even when max calls to check up on him? nope, hes not stopping, he’s just carried you to the bed, fucking you as he’s talking to max.
۵ and charles doesn’t even care. max knows how stressed you are about uni, and he knows that charles calms you down. its not like charles hasn’t told him about a thousand times…
۵ max can hear charles’ grunts and how you’re trying to suppress your whines, the way charles pin your hand above your arm because he wanted max to know how good you felt.
۵ and after that night? yeah, you were definitely relaxed.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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redstarwriting · 11 months
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happy birthday
miles morales x reader
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request?: yes
request: “I LOVEDDD THE HC’S OMG OMG WORK OF ART!!! i was wondering if you would write something expanding on getting miles’ doodles tatted as an adult!! i would love to read more abt it, it’s so cutee”
requested by: anon​
word count: 2.2k
genre: fluff
Warnings: language, tattoos, mentions of tattoos and needles, Miles is so sweet it's sick
A/N: GLADLY!! i've been itching to get a new tattoo since the minute i got my first like three years ago and writing this just made me want to get another one so bad LMAO. i hope you enjoy!
also in case you were wondering what hcs anon is talking about, it's my pda/general affection hcs i wrote for hobie and miles! you can check it out here if you haven't already and feel compelled to :)
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“Miles! Baby, can you give me a tattoo?” you ask, and he smiles. This has become a common practice in your relationship. From the time y’all were kids in love to now, you would always ask him for a tattoo. Of course, he didn’t actually give you tattoos, he just drew on your arm. He’s mentioned you, and even urged you, to get a tattoo every now and again. Especially when he offered to design them, but you always say his temporary ones are more special than any other tattoo you could get. He isn’t upset about it. He genuinely loves drawing on you. “Of course, babe. Come here,” he says, motioning you over to him as he grabs his markers he has specifically for your “tattoos.” You go over to him, sitting between his legs and extending your arm. “Can you draw it right next to the uh… elbow pit?” you say, and he laughs. “Elbow pit?”
“Yeah, like the inside of my arm and not on the bicep part or the elbow pit part, but the forearm part by the elbow pit,” you explain, pointing to the area you’re talking about. He chuckles. “Elbow pit.”
“Well, what else would it be called?” you ask, smiling, and he grins, starting to doodle on your arm. “I’ll text and ask my mom what the scientific name for it is after I’m done here,” he says, and you lean your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, god, please don’t tell her I called it an elbow pit.”
“Oh, I’m totally telling her you called it that,” he teases, placing a quick peck on your lips before returning his attention to your arm. He draws a spiderweb, of course, but in the shape of a heart. He adds his Miles touch to it by making it look like the web was spraypainted, and having it pop with black and red. You don’t even look at the tattoo as he draws it, you just stare at his face. You love watching him when he does his art. You assume it’s similar to the way his face looks when he’s swinging around the city as Spider-Man. He’s in his element, laser-focused and yet has an ease about him that mesmerizes you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, smirking and turning his attention to you. You feel your face heat up but roll your eyes. “Can’t, arm’s a bit preoccupied.”
“You can get creative; I have an idea. Maybe use the one I’m not drawing on?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What do you think, amor?” he asks, and you look. You smile. “I love it, Miles. Thank you,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as you admire his art. “What time is it?” you ask, and he glances at his phone. “11:15. Why?” 
“Ganke and I are gonna go get some lunch today.”
“Should I be worried?” Miles jokes. “No, dummy. We’re just talking about… something happening soon,” you say, and a sly smile spreads across Miles’ face. “How soon?”
“I’ve said too much,” you say, trying to get up. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is Spider-Man and can easily hold you in place. “Nuh uh, how soon is this something happening?” he looks at you with a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, spider boy?”
“I would. Is it, and this is just a wild guess… something happening tomorrow? A special something happening on a very special day?” he guesses, and you sigh. “Don’t tell Ganke you found out…”
“I knew it!”
“We’re supposed to be planning your birthday party, yes. For tomorrow. On your birthday. Are you happy you spoiled it for yourself now?” you feign annoyance, and he laughs. “I am, actually. Now I know to look good for you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “You always look nice, Miles.”
“Only for you,” he grins at you, turning your face to look at him. The two of you share a kiss before it’s interrupted by his police scanner going off. He frowns slightly. “It’s okay, Miles. I gotta go soon anyways,” you give him a quick peck for squeezing out of his arms. He sighs. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll go save the city. Be the best thing that ever happened to New York and all that.”
“My hero,” you joke, and he grins. “You know it,” he says, slipping his mask on and sliding his everyday clothes off. “I’ll see you later, Miles. Stay safe. Love you.”
“You stay safe, too. Love you more.” He leaps out of the window, and you make sure he’s gone before you call Ganke. “Yo, what’s up?”
“You gotta plan Miles’ birthday party tomorrow.”
“Woah, what?” You sigh. “I already have the roof of our building booked out for it, I ordered the cake already and will pick it up tomorrow and have all the decorations. You just need to invite everyone, okay?”
“You mean I have to reach out to people in different dimensions, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow, and hope for the best?” Ganke asks, and you hum into the phone. “Yep! Thanks, Ganke! Also, if Miles asks, we went and got lunch, okay?”
“And where are you really going?”
“I’m getting a tattoo to surprise him for his birthday tomorrow,” you say, grabbing your keys and putting some money in your pocket. You put Ganke on speaker, sending a quick text to Hobie. “You need to stop using me as a cover-up, (Y/n).”
“Who else am I supposed to use? Gwen?” you say, and Ganke sighs. “I mean, yeah, you know she would be down to help you with something like this.”
“Ganke she is so bad at keeping secrets like that, and you know it,” you say, admiring the art on your arm again. “Then use Hobie.”
“Wait that’s actually a good idea,” you say, “Especially since he’s the one giving me the tattoo.”
“AND YOU STILL USED ME?!”
“I PANICKED! He was asking questions! Just, listen, invite as many people as you can think of, alright? Please, and thank you.”
“Fine. Go get inked or whatever they say,” Ganke says. The two of you give some quick goodbyes before hanging up. You receive a reply from Hobie, and a portal opens in Miles and your bedroom. You step through it and find yourself in Hobie’s flat. “Can I just say it’s about damn time you got one of ‘is works tattooed onto ya,” Hobie says, motioning to his couch. You sit and he gets his whole get-up ready, all the cleaning wipes and gloves and the tattoo gun all ready to go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m getting it now and that’s what matters,” you say, and he clicks his tongue. “I can guarantee ya this is just gonna be the beginning. Kinda becomes an addiction,” he says, sitting next to you, and fiddling with his gun. “Then I guess I’ll just need to have Miles draw on me even more.” He chuckles. “Lemme see it.”
You show him the drawing, and Hobie shakes his head. “Your man is corny,” he says, and you shrug. “I like it.”
“I know,” he dips his gun in ink, and looks at you, “Ya ready?” You nod, and he begins tattooing Miles’ art onto your skin. The two of you talk the whole time, really, and you let him know about the party tomorrow. He, of course, agrees to come, and can’t wait to see Miles’ reaction. It takes a few hours, but eventually he finishes up and it looks exactly like Miles just drew it on your skin. Hobie places fake skin over it and gives you the rundown of how to take care of it. He turns away from you to put something away, and you quickly slip $100 under a pillow on the couch. You know he won’t accept any money from you because he’s ‘not a capitalist pig,’ so you have to be sneaky with it. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you say, and he winks at you. “Anythin’ for my mate’s better ‘alf.”
He opens the portal again, and you two say bye until tomorrow. You’re back home, literally, in no time, and you quickly throw one of the hoodies Miles left lying around on. This way he won’t see the tattoo, and you can play it off like you missed him. Especially since you did kind of miss him and it is sort of a staple in your relationship that you wear his clothes when you do. That’ll make him melt and he’ll forget all about the art on your arm. And you were absolutely right. 
It ended up being a late night for Spider-Man, and when he got home, he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping with his hoodie on, and all he could think about was that you missed him. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. You started to wake up as soon as he was getting in bed after taking a shower and cleaning up, and he began desperately trying to get you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you groggily ask. “It’s like 3am, (Y/n/n), I’m here now, we can go to sleep, okay?” he says, slipping into bed next to you and pulling you on top of his chest. “Happy birthday!” you sleepily say, burying your face into his chest. He smiles. “Thank you, amor. Let’s get back to sleep now, yeah?” You make a muffled mmhmm sound and are out like a light almost immediately. Miles smiles to himself, wondering how he got this lucky.
You can imagine his disappointment when he wakes up the next day and you’re not snug against his chest, but he feels better the minute he sees a little note on his chest that explains you’ll be home, you just had to go do something for him. He gets up and decided he can do his Spider-Man duties until you text him and let him know he needs to come home. It may be his birthday, but the city still needs it’s defender. So that’s exactly what he does. He cannot explain how grateful he is that none of the big bads were trying to start anything today, because if he didn’t get to see you and eat a slice of cake, he was going to scream. The day went slower than he wanted but also sped by when eventually he got a text from you saying to come home. He immediately obliges, swinging in through the window and putting on some of his nicest clothes. He walks out of your room and sees you chilling on the couch. “Miss me?” he asks, walking over and bending down to kiss your lips. You giggle. “Obviously. Hey, before we go up to the roof where there totally isn’t a party waiting for you, I wanna show you something, okay?”
“Okay,” he grins, and you grin back. “Cover your eyes.” He does as instructed, and hears you shift slightly. “Okay… open them.” He opens his eyes, and immediately sees his “tattoo” on your arm. Only it was covered in a clear wrap. And it’s real. His eyes get big, and he looks at your face. You give a small smile. “You always encouraged me to get a real tattoo, so… happy birthday.”
“Yo! It looks so good, hold up,” he gently grabs your arm and softly traces it through the saniderm. “When did you get this?”
“Yesterday.”
“You weren’t actually with Ganke, were you?”
“No, I was with Hobie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I got a little liar on my hands, huh?”
“It wasn’t lying it was covering my ass because you ask too many damn questions,” you say, and he laughs. “I love it, (Y/n/n).” You smile and the two of you share a kiss. “We should probably get up there. Some people are waiting. Oh, and pretend like you haven’t seen it yet. Hobie wants to see your reaction.” Miles laughs. “Alright. Well, I hope he knows I’m not gonna stop drawing on you. And that he fully traced my art,” Miles says, and you shake your head. “I’m sure he knows, Miles. You really like it?”
“Like it? Baby, I told you I love it. I love you; I love this tattoo; I love that this is a birthday present from you… everything about this? I love it. I don’t even need to go up there to make the day better because all I need is you,” he says, and you smile. “Hobie was right. You’re so corny.”
“Nah, hold on, he said that? Forget everything I just said it’ll be a perfect day when I punch him.” You laugh as the two of you make your way up to the party. But the whole time, Miles keeps finding his eyes drifting to your tattoo. Something about having his art on you permanently makes his heart swell with pride and happiness. And he and Hobie were both right.
It’s not the only “tattoo” that will become real.
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1K notes · View notes
catiuskaa · 3 months
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new task: valentine’s day.
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PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!
SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.
WC: 10.6k (OH MY FUCKING GOD)
CW: it’s like fluffy comfort because I say so, kim seungmin supremacy (YES), use of spanglish (just on the text messages bc yes, it’s not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format for plot convenience (and a whole bunch of emojis and colors), the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), use of cliché valentine and enemies2lovers tropes (BECAUSE THEY ARE FUN AND THEY WORK), academic rivals (we love to see it), bad student reader x good student seungmin (like bad/mean girl x good boy ish), mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying?, mentions of being followed, use of (pet)names because I don’t like using ‘y/n’: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, (yes i’m just petty like that, sue me), hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is almost a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)
SPECIAL THANKS! To my lovely pookies @lyramundana and @tonks-21 for ideas and support, plus also, most of the classmate’s names are thanks to gorgeous gourgeous @stayconnecteed and her spanishverse series bc i’m so invested! Go check all of their blogs out! 100% recommend. son mis chicas españolitas, hehe<3
A/N: alone on valentine’s day? same for me, pookie! but dontchu worry, mister kim seungmin is here to help us out<3 (and if not, we can always help each other😚🫶)
[☆★🌷★☆]
{PROLOGUE: THE GROUPCHAT}
At first, you didn’t really know him.
To think for a second that there was a time where you didn’t know who he was made you sigh. Oh, how you wish you had never, ever encountered him.
…Kim Seungmin.
Some may say that ‘rivals’ or ‘enemies’ is a term that could seem too intense regarding a simple statement: that you two didn’t get along.
But no. Because those kind of words were exactly how you’d define your relationship.
And it had all started the first day of your last year before graduating. When you made the class groupchat.
> you created ‘Year 13-A 😼😼’
> you added ‘lucas🤺’ ‘atenea🛐’ ‘noa🫶’ and 16 more.
> you: guys help, am I missing people?
> you: @ atenea🛐 told me to create this group for homework n stuff but idk if I have everyone’s numbers 😵‍💫😵‍💫
< noa🫶: tía you’re missing two people no?
< lara💋: hala, new people?? 👀
< noa🫶: pero- they’re literally from the other group, girl
< abril🌻: you even know them lara
< abril🌻: se te va la pinza JAJSJA
< miguel📚: sí, there should be 22 people (creo)
> you: oh right, Lix told me!
> you: yeah i’ll add them now, brb 🏃‍♀️
Well.
Rookie mistake.
> you added ‘kim seungmin™️’, ‘hyunjin🎨’
> you: omg i even added everyone
< lucas🤺: omg omg
< kim seungmin™️: omg omg so crazyy
You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly as you texted. But that was just because you hadn’t talked to him before.
Now was a different story, of course. You wouldn’t smile, not for Kim Seungmin.
> you: @ kim seungmin™️ what was crazy is how difficult it was finding someone who had your phone number, lol
< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: fr fr omg
< lucas🤺: que es omg
< lucas🤺: ‘oh me gustas’ ? omg?
< lara💋: you’re such an idiot, asshole
< lucas🤺: ohhh you love me so bad 😌😌😌
< isabel🌸: she knows better lol
< lucas🤺: dude, you’re my sister
< lucas🤺: shouldn’t you be backing me?
< isabel🌸: there’s a fee for that, dude.
You giggled at the stupid teasing, used to your mates’ shenanigans that never ceased to make you laugh.
But then, he replied.
< kim seungmin™️: @ you the only difficult thing here is you reaching graduation
Your smile faded.
You read that once more. Then again. And another time.
You chuckled dryly.
What was this guy on about?
> you: ah? wdym?
You remember thinking that maybe he was joking. That maybe he was someone who talked to people with a lot of harsh remarks without really meaning them. That maybe he was trying to be funny, or something.
Other texts showed up, but Kim Seungmin —named like so in the contact Felix had shared to you— wasn’t replying.
< minho🐈: guys wtf it’s 00:12
< lucas🤺: oh he uses the other clock
< lucas🤺: so its am-pm for us but not for you
< lucas🤺: think you’re special? wanna fight?
< noa🫶: lucas just shut up and go to bed
< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: damn right 🛌🛌🛌
< miguel📚: guys, stop texting 😓
> you: yeah guys lol
< minho🐈: no u started this
< minho🐈: u shush
You snickered softly, used to Minho’s humour, quickly playing along.
> you: ?! unfair ☝️🤓
< kim seungmin™️: no, minho’s right for once
< kim seungmin™️: you should shush
< kim seungmin™️: you’re less annoying when you’re quiet
You frowned at your phone, your face contorted in angry confussion.
Who did this guys think he was?
With a huff, you typed a rapid “gtg guys!”, ignoring Seungmin’s texts, and quickly settled your phone back on your pocket, getting off the bus and finally arriving home.
You groaned, the text that that Seungmin idiot had sent still rolling in your head even after you laid in bed. You passed your hands through your hair.
“Difficult to reach graduation?” You mumbled, eyes fixated ln the chatroom the sentence feeling like acid in your mouth.
Kim Seungmin wasn’t ready for how difficult his last year was going to be, solely for his stupid text message.
[☆★🌷★☆]
{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}
To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.
Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.
You were mad. As fuck.
“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.
“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.
You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.
And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.
“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”
Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.
Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.
“Miss, I—”
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.
Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.
Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.
It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.
You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.
< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn
< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊
You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.
You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?
The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.
“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.
“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.
Why did it always have to be him?
He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.
“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”
You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.
“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.
But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.
“Did you fix it?”
You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.
“Huh?”
He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”
You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.
In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.
“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.
We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.
As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.
< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?
Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.
“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.
Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?
Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.
Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.
“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.
“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”
But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.
“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”
Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.
“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.
Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.
Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.
But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.
Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.
You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.
But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”
Oh, son of a bitch.
“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.
Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”
Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.
Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.
You wouldn’t see the end of it.
And he knew it.
Bitch.
So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.
Lucas chuckled next to you.
“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”
…WHAT?!
“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”
He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”
Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.
“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”
His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.
But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.
“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.
That mas was slightly terryifing.
You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.
“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”
“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.
Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.
“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”
Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.
“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”
Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.
“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.
“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”
You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.
“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.
[☆★🌷★☆]
Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.
“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.
“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.
“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”
You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.
“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.
You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”
Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.
“Exactly. We don’t like him.”
“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.
“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”
He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”
You grinned cheekily.
“Sure. Can’t wait.”
[☆★🌷★☆]
You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.
Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.
Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.
“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.
And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.
“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.
You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?
“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.
He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.
See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.
“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.
His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.
Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.
He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.
“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”
His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.
You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.
It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.
You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.
You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.
But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.
what were you doing?
WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!
You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.
He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.
In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.
This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.
This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.
But it felt real.
And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.
He panted, struggling to catch his breath.
“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.
He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.
He found himself enjoying this one even more.
“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”
You blinked as he stood up and walked away.
What…
What had just happened?
[☆★🌷★☆]
{ACT 2: UNDER THE STREETLIGHT}
After avoiding Seungmin like the plague all Thursday, only looking at his back when you zoned off in class, Friday arrived earlier than expected.
You hadn’t been able to concentrate at all, the thought of his sweet taste lingering in your mouth, almost letting you feel the ghost of his lips pressed against yours.
“Hello? Earth to… oh, you’re awake, Jesus.” Abril looked at you with a smile, but she was unable to hide her worried look.
“Of course I am,” you mumbled, shaking your head sideways. “What’s going on?”
“You haven’t even touched your delicious and totally-not-overcooked pasta.” Lara mentioned the cafeteria lunch as she poked it whith her fork, full of humour. “It leads to believe that you’re dealing with something far more interesting that the technical drawing homework, that’s for sure.”
You bit your lip, hesitating.
“Is it because Henry Li has been ignoring you?” Noa mentioned softly.
You blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”
He’d been ignoring you? Now that she had mentioned, maybe that could’ve happened. Maybe you would’ve realized if you hadn’t been so focused on Seungmin and whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes…
…or maybe you should look for an easier name for it.
“Uh, no, he invited me to this new place today, actually,” you brushed your hair with your hand mindlessly. “But I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” You smiled at the girls, and joined in at their conversation.
After lunch, you separated from Lara and Noa, who had literature, and Abril, who had been hanging out with a guy called Jeongin from her photography club recently, and so you headed to the study room.
It was a quiet place, quieter that what you had initially expected for a high school study room. Matter of fact, you thought it was a pity that the school closed it after class, considering that in that case you wouldn’t have to walk to the public library.
You opened the door silently, finding that there were barely any students, only three or four people studying silently. You were heading towards a lonely corner so you could listen to music in a high volume without having to pay attention if it could be heard through your headphones. Or maybe, considering that it hadn’t been a lie and that you had slept like four hours maximum, you could probably rest there until the bell rang.
You snickered when you looked to your right, finding someone struggling with the technical drawing homework that had been assigned that morning, the one that Lara and Noa had been talking about.
You gently tapped the guy’s shoulder, but spoke before he even turned.
“You’re missing this incline here,” you whispered on his ear, your arms coming above his shoulders, placing your hands above his, placing the square and bevel on the right angle. “It should be seen, but with dotted lines, get it? That way the side-view makes sense.” You added with a soft giggle.
“Oh, right. T-thank you…” he mumbled, not facing you.
You brushed it off as weird, but your sleepy self wasn’t bothered enough to notice or pry, and instead smiled, ruffled his hair and settled in your cozy little corner, placing your scarf in between your arms and rested your head on it, merely “resting your eyes”, but only if a teacher happened to come and check on the students.
Seungmin stared at your sleeping figure, eyes almost wide. He felt like his heart was going to explode underneath the layers of flesh. His hands tingled, his usually warm and sweaty palms missing the comfortable coldness of yours, so soothing and relaxing.
Either you had completely gone crazy, or he had fallen asleep trying to complete the stupid assignment. He knew you were good at technical drawing, it was one of the subjects were he wasn’t. It wasn’t a surprise when several students started asking you for help on their papers and assignments, considering that you were one of the few who was able to receive praise from the teacher, a middle-aged man with no kind of vocation with kids or teaching, by any means.
But it had never happened when he was the one in need of help, had you ever considered the idea of helping him.
He watched you, puzzled, as he had never done before, and maybe it would be the first time of many because Seungmin found himself liking what he was seeing, dare I say mesmerized by the image before him.
By you.
Your sleepy figure was as calm as he had ever seen from you, sleeping with little to no care in the world. Your hair remained stuck in a ponytail, which allowed Seungmin to notice that it left the skin of your neck visible, and despite the voice on his head saying that it was a behaviour quite like a man from the Modern Ages, just being so fixated at that small bit of skin, he couldn’t help but feel bashfully amazed.
Suddenly, he noticed you licked your lips, your eyes still closed and your small smile never faltering, but that made something start to flutter in his stomach, as if a whole lot of butterflies had been awaken at the sight of you, tranquil, and sweet, and cute, and he forced himself to stop looking at you abruptly, wondering why he had done that in the first place.
Licking your lips only made Seungmin aware of how dry his were, and action plus the thought of your lips immediately brought back what had happened on Wednesday.
Crazy. He’d gone completely crazy.
He felt his hand slowly approach his lips and he grazed them with his fingers, almost able to taste your chapstick back on his lips. Because he had been able. All Wednesday night. And a small part of him wanted more of it.
He blushed, scratching his eyes. He hadn’t slept shit, his mind betraying him every time he attempted to close his eyes instantly going back to the memory of how you stared at him after your kiss, dark pupils, and red lips, and so ridiculously gorgeous that it made Seungmin wonder why whenever he saw you he resorted to his first line in code: being mean.
He never used that side with anyone. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, because small, teasing and slightly unhinged Kim Seungmin had tried to be himself in middle school, and… well.
Let’s just say that it didn’t work like expected.
But everyone loved dorky, funny and sweet Seungmin. Even with the difference with grades, that had definetely not been appreciated in his early years, nowadays people would see that as a part of him, and he recieved praise for it, not only from teachers, but also nice classmates, who sometimes went to seek help from him.
He just needed to pretend for a bit. Smile here and there, and put on a sheepish act of bashfulness that despite it not being natural, it wasn’t totally bad. It wasn’t like middle school.
But then you came in the picture.
Something about you made Seungmin want to tease you. To see you finally look at him after battling in your head if you even should, and then, sometimes when you were mad enough, you’d glare at him, and he couldn’t help but grin. Your cheeks flushed in anger that creeped up your body, how you looked at him through your lashes or how you’d tease him back. The first time you had done that, his brain’s chemistry had changed, he was sure of that.
He didn’t care about the mean remarks, and that now seemed almost obvious, considering what had happened almost two days ago in the school bus.
But it got impossible to miss when Seungmin noticed your sleepy self shivering in your slumber. With a mental groan, careful of not making any kind of loud noise in the study room, he slowly got closer to your corner, and tried to close the windows near it. And failed, because the stupid windows were old and rusty, only able to move them a bit.
He bit his lip, arguing in his head. Would that be enough? No, it probably wasn’t, right? Yeah, it couldn’t be. Considering that you always wore thin clothing, always borrowing your mates’ jackets…
…it couldn’t possibly hurt to do a bit more, right?
Seungmin approached you further, and shook a hand close to your face, but you were dead, as still as a fallen tree, despite the sunlight that enetered throught the windows glowing on your face, the Sun in winter, that brought little to no warmth, made you shine in his eyes.
He’d see you in the public library a couple of hours later. It didn’t mean anything. He could probably tease you for sleeping in school later. Yeah. And then he’d ask for his jacket back.
Seungmin was lost in his thoughts as he carefully settled his jacket over your shoulders, and he froze when you sighed deeply, surrounded by a familiar warmth and a cozy scent that you didn’t know you had missed or needed until then, but you didn’t wake up.
He blinked when he noticed your phone in your hand, the screen suddenly turning on. He giggled at your wallpaper, which had a silly joke on it and a funny doodle of a banana.
But then his eyes trailed down to the notification that had made the phone turn on.
[3 new messages from: henry li🫧]
> sorry i didn’t get to see u yesterday, had to sort smth out!
> guys.its.totally.a.real.address.wdym.lol
> it’s the address for later, shortcake 😉❤️
…huh?
Seungmin blinked once. Twice. Nah, his glasses had to be deceiving him. Then, another notification popped up.
> can’t wait to see you ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
He winced silently.
Ugh. What a cringy choice of emojis.
Did you really like this guy?
He frowned, going back to his place in the study room.
Ugh.
He didn’t care, obviously. Why would he care? That wasn’t his business. Never was, never would be. Not like he was interested. Pffft, no. Not at all. Yeah, nah. That kiss had been a one time thing. Totally. 100%. He wasn’t thinking about it again. Nope. Nor did he want to kiss you again. Not in a chance.
Just… ugh.
It was just that… no. Scratch that. No further comments.
He sighed as he went back to his work, feeling a sudden inspiration hit him as he took out a blank paper for the English class valentine’s assignment, but not before he looked at you again, then shook his head, turning the music back on in his headphones. He started writing, drafting, and throwing papers away, getting slightly desperate at his perfectionism.
He sighed. His eyes trailed off towards you.
Slowly, words started to flow in his head. Pretty sentences, things that he had kept hidden in the back of his mind. Maybe it could be good to let it all out. It couldn’t hurt. Yeah.
So he stared writing. Vomiting word after word. And he finished earlier than expected, with two papers.
One was perfect for the english assignment. It was boring and dull enough to be handed in for a school work, but good enough for his perfectionism.
And the other… was something different.
Something that had only happened because you were there, in front of him.
He stood up, letter on his hand. He leaned against the table you were sleeping in, and settled the jacket further on your shoulders. He sighed, grabbing a pen from his pencil case, folding the letter and signed it.
Maybe it was a bad idea, he thought as he picked up his stuff from the table and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
He looked at your figure once more before heading out.
It had been to check if you were still asleep, of course.
Just to check.
Yeah.
[☆★🌷★☆]
Your phone vibrated in your hand again.
And again.
And again.
With a groan, you silently accepted that there was no way you could fool an inanimate object into believing that you were still asleep.
But when you yawned and looked around and didn’t find the posters in your room, but rather a whole bunch of tables and chairs, your eyes widened.
It hadn’t been your alarm but a phone call that had awoken you.
“Y-yeah?” You mumbled, picking up the call and quickly taking your backpack and scarf and rushing out of the study room, taking a quick scan and making sure you weren’t leaving anything behind.
“I’m heading to the club now, shortcake.” A low voice greeted. “Are you getting ready?”
Who…?
“H-henry?” You frowned slightly.
You heard him snicker through the other side. “Yeah?”
Fuck, shit, fuck.
“N-nothing! Nothing, I, uh, I was just doing my make up. Y-you know.”
What? You frowned, even more this time. No, that didn’t make any sense. You always blabbered about how you never did your make up for clubbing because the one you owned was cheap and never stayed on anyways.
“Sure, yeah.”
It didn’t seem like he had noticed.
“You can head there before me. I’ll go there eventually, yeah?”
You heard him snicker on the other side of the phone call. “Ok, baby.” He cleared his throat, stuttering a bit. “Y-yeah, I mean, I’ll uh… get there in a bit. Don’t rush.”
Only then you felt that the wind from outside wasn’t freezing your bones like usual. You squinted at the jacket you were wearing.
“Henry, did you…?” But he hung up.
It probably was him. Yeah. That’s why he had called you. To make sure you’d wake up.
Besides, there were little to no people who’d do such a kind gesture towards you, and even if the jacket was pretty much your style and it smelled like heaven, it didn’t feel like something any of the girls would keep around.
So, why didn’t it made you feel giddy that Henry had given you his jacket?
You kept on running through the hallways and catched the bus that was usually there for students who had extracurricular classes, unlucky people who had to stay in school late in Fridays. You never had, using Fridays to be a bit lazy or to start homework sooner just to hand it in earlier than Seungmin.
Oh.
Friday.
Seungmin.
The library.
You bit your nails, staring through the window.
Would he wait there for long?
What was he going to do once he figured you weren’t going to show up?
Were you… feeling guilty?
No… that… that couldn’t be, you chuckled dryly. Mean decisions against Kim Seungmin didn’t spend too much time on the judgmental side of your brain. You just… teased him back. And he’d take it. And double it. And so on.
So why did this feel too mean?
Could it be because of whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes?
Could the fact that it had been the best thing that had happened in a long while?
Well, fine.
Not just ‘thing’.
A kiss.
And for fuck’s sake, what kiss.
You groaned and grunted, sprinting home as soon as the bus stopped.
Why did it always have to be him?
You entered your room and burst open your closet. The jacket was cool, you thought. And if you were going to see Henry, you could just wear it and hand it back to him in the club.
It was vintage, but its warmth engulfed you as if it had been handmade. Its funky designs and patterns looked cute, and its grey color contrasted well with it. You chose the first dress you saw, a tight black dress with no sleeves that you would’ve discarded as too short if you had more time, but it wasn’t exactly something you could’ve bragged about.
Jacket, dress, high socks, boots, wallet, phone, keys, headphones… yeah. You nodded, checking all of the boxes in your mental list, and started hurriedly walking to the address he had sent.
You hoped you weren’t going to be too late.
[☆★🌷★☆]
“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”
“The number you are trying to call is turned off or out of coverage. Please, leave your message after the—”
You hang up, tired of hearing that mechanic voice over and over again.
You looked around you, and there was nothing that looked like a club. You had tried to enter the building that the address lead to, but it hadn’t got well.
A strange figure opened a small window and gave you a look, almost disgusted. It took you a second to understand that they were wearing a mask, with dark lace and other colours. But just when you were about to speak, the window slammed close.
You blinked, puzzled. Where the fuck was Henry sending you? What kind of club was this?
You had started to roam around the building, trying to call him —and failing misserably, because the damn guy couldn’t pick up the fucking phone for the life of him—, but now you were starting to run out of ideas.
It was past 12pm, your legs shivered with every slight wind that swooshed your way, and there was no one that was going to pick up the phone. Not Henry, that ridiculous imbecile, not Lucas, who always bragged about having his phone in night mode, so nothing would get to him until morning, and not the girls, because Noa had her phone turned off, Atenea was most likely sleeping, Abril and Lara hadn’t picked up either, and your list of close friends who could possibly pick up was… that.
And no one was picking up the fucking phone.
You were about to keep on ranting about how disgustingly bad this was turning out to be, but you heard footsteps coming your way. You looked around, but didn’t find the source. With a frown, you walked to the building again
Placing your hand on one of the windows, who were dark and almost impossible to see through, you could notice that in the dim light from what could be seen outside, Henry was well entertained with a certain kind of company, so much that he couldn’t even pick up your phone.
You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against the tinted glass. Of course. Yeah. That made total sense. It was Henry, after all. He had always been known to be kind of an asshole anyways. It couldn’t possibly come out as a surprise the fact that he actually was.
You shook your head and mentally mocked him and the blond girl he was kissing.
Henry Li could go to Hell.
Guess there was nothing left to do now. You had dumped Seungmin, and Henry had dumped you. It was an ass move over an ass move. Maybe you kinda deserved it.
But then your thoughts ended in a halt, because you swore you could feel a shadow starting to follow you from a distance.
They were behind you, but not too close, and due to their hoodie it was imposible to distinguish their face.
So you started walking. Turning left. Right. Left again. Right. Just kept on walking. Don’t look behind you. They’d probably just leave. This had to be your imagination, 100%.
But when you took a peak, the silhouette was not only still behind you, slowly walking towards you, but a slight bit closer this time.
You swallowed dry, gulped, even. Your heart tightened in your chest. What kind of joke was this? Your eyes were tearing up. You were tired, and this was mental. Adrenaline rumped through your body, and even if you were already lost, you kept on walking.
You took your phone from your pocket. Think, think, think. Who could you call? Who could pick up at one am? You scrolled down your list of contacts, until for a reason you don’t fully get, your eyes stopped at a certain name.
—> seungmeannie
It couldn’t possibly hurt to try… right?
You sniffed almost silently, and pressed call.
One beep.
Two beeps.
Three beeps.
You started crying a bit louder, unable to hold it back.
“Eh, hi…?”
“S-seungmin!” You sobbed, smiling. It was the first time in your life you had been that happy just from being able to hear his voice, raspy and low.
“W-what?” He stopped talking, and you guessed that it was because he hadn’t figured out who was calling him so late at night. “Do you know what time it is, you fun-sized dingus?” He groaned sleepily at the phone.
You bit your lip and sniffed.
“Wait. Are you… crying?” His tone had changed.
“I-i’m sorry about t-this eve-ening.” You sobbed, failing to hold back the tears, hugging the jacket that was still on your shoulders.
“Are you drunk, little one?” You never thought your shoulders could relax as fast as they had when his soft tone of voice called you that stupid nickname.
“N-no, I… I went to this stupid club, with-“
“With Henry, yeah.” The way he said his name, as if he wanted to put that stupid bitch in a box and send him to the end of the world took you by surprise.
“B-but um, he’s not picking up my phone and I…” you gulped. Taking a peek behind you, you shivered. “I think someone’s following me.”
“Wait, what?” Seungmin had never stood up from bed as fast as he had done that night. “Where are you?” He asked to the phone as he randomly picked a sweater and his glasses, biting his lip as he struggled to put on his shoes.
“I… I don’t know.” You sobbed. “I started walking away so he’d go, but it didn’t work.” You mumbled, sniffing. You felt so stupid.
“Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?” It was the first time in the whole afternoon that you felt like that statement could be true. Because Seungmin was going to help you. “Don’t hang up. Tell me what buildings can you see. Try heading away from small alleys. I’ll find you.”
Seungmin rushed out of his appartment, not before scribbling down what was happening in a post it note and left it on his mother’s bedside table.
“T-there are some restaurants, but they’re all closed.” You started, dubious as how was this going to work. “There’s a road to my left.”
“Can you name any of the restaurants, little one?” Seungmin had a hunch, and he huffed, sprinting to the plaza closest to his appartment.
“I just passed by a Mexican, I think.” You sniffed, Seungmin’s soothing voice working like a charm and calming you down slowly. “In front of me, I think this is a Japanese… it’s called Ginza.”
Seungmin chuckled, feeling relief flooding his body. “Y-yeah, ok! I- god, yes, I know where you are. Keep walking straight ahead. There should be a park, right?” He started running, hiding the fact that he’d have to rush and make the usual fifteen minutes it could take him to arrive where you were and make them five.
He needed to see you and make sure you were safe.
“I… shit, yeah! I can see it!” You went back to crying, a smile planted in your features.
“I’m almost there. You’re doing so well, little one.”
You felt your cheeks getting warmer at that. Walking a bit faster, you looked behind you, finding that the silhouette was still there.
But Seungmin was close. Seungmin said everything would be fine.
“S-seungmin?” You mumbled at the phone, wanting to hear his voice, so soothing and warm.
“Under the streetlight, silly.”
You heard the beep that sounded when Seungmin ended the call, but he was there, tangible, a couple of meters away from you.
You chuckled, happy to see him for the first time ever, and crying away the pent up stress and worry, you ran off to him, and clung your arms around his neck tightly, unbothered at the need to stand on the tips of your toes to do so.
Seungmin stuttered, still panting from the marathon he had ran to get there, 100% baffled at this. But it was ok. You were there. You were safe.
“T-they’re still behind me.” You whispered against his chest.
He could feel your nervousness on your tone, how scared you were judging by how strongly your arms closed behind his neck, and hesitated for a second before hugging you back, his arms pulling you closer by your lower back, keeping you grounded and so weirdly safe in his grasp, and it felt so strangely comforting coming from him that your eyes swelled with more tears.
You couldn’t see or feel the person behind you anymore, but Seungmin did, somewhat clearly.
The only thing that his mind made up that moment is that for the person to leave, they’d have to believe you two did know each other.
And Seungmin’s heart beated loudly in his chest when your grasp loosened and you stood back on your feet, allowing him to see how your lip trembled, how you were holding back tears and how you looked at him with a million emotions hidden in the colour of your eyes. He had never seen you cry before.
His hands itched to touch you again, a sudden need to comfort you that overwhelmed him.
So he did.
His hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tears, and he pecked your lips softly, smiling at your baffled face. His arms engulfed you in a comforting hug that smelled so much like the jacket you were wearing.
He looked behind you, and the silhouette was nowhere to be found. As if it had never been there before.
“It’s ok.” Seungmin whispered in your ear. “I’m here now. You’re safe. They’re gone, yeah?” His arms rested on your shoulders as his slender hands stroked your hair. “No one’s gonna hurt you now, pretty.”
And you started to cry on his shoulder, because not only then you realized how bad you had needed a hug, and not even the fact that it had been a hug from him that you had secretly yearned for, but because none of your excuses made sense now.
There was no ‘fake’ or ‘real’ Seungmin.
Whatever he was, fake or not, stood in front of you as he hugged you under the streetlight.
And you sighed as he cooed at you softly, because deep down you had known for a while.
It was time you came to terms with it.
[☆★🌷★☆]
{ACT 3: WINDOWS, LETTERS AND POEMS}
Wednesday. 9:56 am. 14th February.
Most of your classmates were still arriving from their next class as you stared at two papers in your hands slightly from afar, pencil in your lips.
You had discarded most of your creations all Monday and Tuesday when you finally ended with a draft you liked for the stupid english homework. It was nothing out of the ordinary.
But the letter in your other hand, however, was something you had never done before.
“What’s that you got there?”
Any kind of bubbly and nervous emption you had vanished at the sound of that low voice.
“Fuck off, Li.” You grunted in a husky tone, frowning at him and grabbing back the letter from his hands.
“Is it a love letter for me?” He chuckled, ignoring your behaviour.
“Why the fuck would I write that, huh?” You laughed, a chuckle full of acid, one that had much more hatred that you had ever said before.
Henry brushed a hand through his hair, and you couldn’t help but think he looked stupid. You had liked this guy? Ugh.
“Because today is valentine’s day, shortcake.”
You squinted and frowned at him.
“Swishing those dyed and damaged locks like a Loreal advert won’t make anyone fall in love with you.” You snorted, and realized the people in the hallway had fallen into silence, listening to your conversation. “Or maybe it worked with that blond girl in the club?” You pretended to ponder out loud, leaning against the locker behind you, facing him with confidence.
“Wait, what?” He mumbled.
You snickered, taking him by surprise. “Oh, silly. I was never going to date you. I kept hearing that you were an ass and figured that was right, because aside from me, little to no people talked to you. I guess I just felt pityful.” You faked a pout.
He clenched his fists, his shoulders tense.
“You’re lying.” He grunted.
You chuckled. “You wish I was. That blond girl didn’t steal my man. She stole my problem.” You heard some gasps from the people in the corridor, as they had formed some kind of circle around you two.
But then, Henry snorted, and cleared his throat, talking with a much louder voice. “So you’re not going to let everyone know about you and Seungmin?” He smirked. “I feel like that’s a bit unfair. Making it seem like I’m the bad guy and all.”
You tried hard to make it seem like that hadn’t surprised you. You were so surprised by it that you didn’t have time to react when he yanked your letter from your hand.
“Such sweet words, all dedicated to him,” he mocked. “I think these people want to know.”
“Give it back!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes dull with embarassment.
Even if he wasn’t as tall as Seungmin, there was still a decent difference between you and him. And with a sly grin, he raised the paper above your head.
You licked your lips, anger filling your body.
“Give. It. Back.”
But then he started reading.
“I looked at him as if he were the Sun, in that I never looked at him except in frustration.” He read out loud, moving the paper from your reach everytime you tried to reach. “I seeked his warmth, I complained when he was gone, but I never looked, not until I noticed he was leaving, and in the beauty of the sunset, I wondered how I had never seen him before.”
You stared at the floor, a blush spreading through your cheeks, coming from your neck.
“And that’s basically what happened.” You mumbled to Abril and Lucas over at a bench in the school grounds, hours after that whole thing had happened.
“What?!” You flinched at Abril’s loud voice. “I’m going to kill him. I am so going to murder that nasty ass bitch.” She threatened to stand up, but Lucas grabbed her forearm.
“And what about Seungmin?” He questioned softly, a lot more gentle that what you usually would expect.
You felt heat rush to your cheeks.
“I haven’t spoken to him since Friday” You stared at him with a weakness you had never felt before. “It’s like he doesn’t want to talk to me, I…” you sighed. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” You sniffed.
You had to stay in the study room for the afternoon, waiting for Atenea to get out of the club she was in so you could head to the library together like you had promised, but as you studied in silence, someone sat in the chair in front of you, frowning at you.
You took your headphones off and scratched your eyes. “Eh… Hyunjin?”
“Abril told Lara and she told me,” he mentioned in a huff. “And I’ve known Seungmin for many years. He’s not an impulsive guy. He hasn’t treated anyone like how he treats you.”
You blinked, puzzled, but frowned at him. “Are you going to scold me?”
“You better believe I am!” He scoffed. “Would you like me to politely tell you that you’ve behaved like a total idiot around him?”
“What are you—?!”
“You simply never bothered to talk to Seungmin about any of what Lara told me!” He stated with force, and you didn’t think to tell him to shut up, considering that the study room was empty that time.
“Do you really expect me to understand whatever was happening and tell him right away?” You blurted out with anger, a bit shocked at his rough approach. “Had I had the opportunity I would have!
He rolled his eyes, passing a hand over his face in a sign of desperation.
“You had every opportunity! For months!” He left his hand on the table, and started tapping at it with force, trying to make a point. “Admit it. Seungmin has been in your head ever since we both changed from the other class and you two started bickering.” Hyunjin’s eyes stared at you with a fierce glare that almost threatened to pierce holes through your skull.
“That’s bullshit!” You spitted out defensively.
“Oh, spare me!” He brushed it off. “There have been countless clues! Your stupid need to make everything a competition when it comes to him is infuriating. He talks to me about these things, you know?” He swallowed, and you leaned back in surprise, but he kept on going. “How you look at him when you’re angry, or how you mock and tease him back. It’s stupid!” He cursed out loud. “And these last two weeks have only made it so much worse.”
“What do you mean, worse?” You pondered softly, slowly taking in Hyunjin’s dramatic act.
“I mean, you were totally smitten by how he ridiculously kissed you at the back of the bus last week, considering that you kissed him back.” He stated clearly. “And he wouldn’t shut up about it and how you were ignoring him after, which, great fucking work, by the way, the dude wouldn’t shut up about you.” Hyunjin blinked slowly, trying to recall and voice what he was thinking. “And then he lends you his jacket when a mystery debutant shows up.”
“A—a what?”
“Motherfucker, eh, that Henry asshole.” Hyunjin rubbed his eyes. “I had to endure him talking shit about him for an hour because he saw him texting you some weird shit with cringe emojis.” The exasperation on his tone rendered you almost speechless. “And even then he struggled to admit how fucking jealous he was about that guy. He had your attention. He had your smile. You looked at Henry, not at Seungmin, and ah, for fuck’s sake.” Hyunjin covered his face with his hands. “He felt so ridiculously powerless that he talked to me about it. He’s never done that before!”
You were only able to blink, struggling to grasp everything he was saying.
“And then, with no word of warning, you called him, at, what, like, one in the morning?” Hyunjin said in a huff, the thought of that bringing back his anger, making him stare at you with a frown again. “He, jesus, he talked for AGES about how you hugged him, and the fact that you were wearing his jacket, like— like you’re doing now, what the fuck.” He stopped mid-scolding, staring at you with confusion.
“It’s… it’s his?”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly as he nodded. “What, you didn’t know? You helped him with tecnical drawing, he gave you his jacket, bla bla bla. That whole thing?”
You blushed, shaking your head sideways. You had done what?
“Nevermind. You can talk to him about that later.”
It was your turn to scoff now. “Judging by the fact that he sent you, I don’t think he would like to see me anytime soon.”
Hyunjin chuckled dryly.
“Don’t you even dare keep ignoring him. This stupid game has lasted for too long. Besides, he doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m in dance practice, but whatever. You needed to know, because he’s a mess.” Hyunjin stated, passing a hand through his hair. “He can’t sleep well, he can’t concentrate, he can’t do anything.”
It looked like the scolding was over, but there was a remaining anger that came back to him as a memory struck.
“And, moreover, you callously ignored the letter Seungmin wrote you, even though he told you he loved you!”
You were looking at your notebook on the table, halfly staring at your nails and fidgeting with them, but your head almost snapped when you stared at him.
“What letter?” You muttered, your eyes locked on his. He frowned, his eyes slightly widening.
Your heart started beating faster, almost so loud you could hear it in your head.
“Hyunjin, what letter?!”
[☆★🌷★☆]
Seungmin felt his lungs on fire.
Run, run, run.
His feet were hurting, because his old ass shoes were busted enough that their insides were almost destroyed from everyday use.
But he needed to find you.
Maybe it was because it was Valentine’s day, despite the obvious influence that a certain friend of yours had done.
“Wait, you— you missed school this morning?” Lucas had muttered with a puzzled look, eyes wide.
“I had to go to the dentist to take my braces off. Yeah.” Seungmin stated again. “So whatever you meant by ‘being an ignoring bitch this morning’, I know nothing about it.”
And then someone next to them had chimed in. “You’re talking about Henry and what happened this morning with—“
“Yeah. Why?” Seungmin had interrupted, frowning slightly.
“There’s a video of it.”
Run, run, run.
The look in your eyes when you spoke with Henry. Your smug smile when you caught him by surprise.
Your poem.
His eyes had widened when Henry started reading it in the video.
Was it…?
Could it…?
Could it really be for him?
He wanted needed to find out.
He needed to find you.
“Watch where you’re going!” A man grunted at him, and Seungmin quickly apologized, running off.
Run, run, run.
He knew where you lived just because of Friday, when you had asked him if he could head towards your house with you, still a bit scared from what had happened. He accepted in a heartbeat, reassuring you that it was fine with a million smiles.
His hand had never left yours. Your touch, colder than his, had something so adicting to it that he didn’t want to let go.
Time seemed to pass slowlier when he recognized your neighbourhood. He was about to ring on your floor, but then, your silhouette got out of the elevators, and you both blinked at each other, staring through the glass door.
You opened it slowly, approaching him.
The look in your eyes was different than what Seungmin was used to.
It wasn’t similar to how you had looked at him ever since the school year started, with a shimmer of anger that turned your cheeks pink. Or how you had looked at him that afternoon in the back of the school bus, pupils dark and lips red and slightly swollen from kissing. Or how your eyes glowed in hope and comfort that Friday night.
It was different. He wanted to savour it. He wanted to see every detail of it.
He walked towards you and cradled your face in his hands.
“Wait.” He muttered in a whisper, taking off his glasses in a movement that to you felt almost enticing.
“What is it?” You whispered back.
He blinked at you as he cleaned his glasses with the hem of his shirt.
“You’re fucking blurry.” He snickered softly, with a sheepish smile that tinted his cheeks pink.
You giggled.
He settled his glasses back in place, and smiled when your image made sense before him.
“Better.” He muttered.
“Seungmin, I—“
But you stopped speaking when his lips crashed against yours.
There it was. He tasted sweet like how hot chocolate tastes in a rainy day. You smiled at your discovery, wanting to taste it for hours.
He wanted to kiss you for days to come, even if there was a million things left for both of you to say.
“I’m sorry.” Kiss. “I wasn’t in school this morning.” Kiss. “But I saw a video of it.” Kiss. “And I needed to—“
You giggled, taking his glasses and settling them on the top of his head.
“We can do the talking later.” You smiled, your cheeks red as your hands grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
“Are you sure?” He gulped, blushing too as he mumbled.
“Yeah.” You smiled even more. “I’d rather do the kissing now.”
You'd never know what happened with his letter. But considering where that had lead you, maybe it wasn't totally bad that the wind had carried it out the window.
[☆★🌷★☆]
~Kats, who, believe it or not, took the text argument in the beginning from an old school groupchat (yes i was the target akbdksbdks idk why lol, but no, i did not have an enemies2lovers :( lmao)
HAPPY FUCKING VALENTINES DAY!
TAGGING! (oh wow) @that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick @deadcrow-donteat @obyyyy @euphoric-univers @aslou @19marka @daisyjihannie @im-loco66 @coolbabydumplings @amarecerasus @sharonxdevi @han-to-my-minho @abbiespooks @moon0fthenight @koala-wonderland @hecrtful @hheesungsung @vampcharxter @kpopandblunts @daisy-dont-play @skz-lover21 @skyl1nninie @lunathewonyoungstan @5starlee @pchyyhoe @4ln-stay8 @michelle4eve (bolded and/or purple means it won’t let me tag you, pookies! please check your blog’s privacy settings <3)
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soullumii · 10 months
Text
if my heart’s gonna break | joel miller x f!reader
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part 1 (read part 1 before reading this!)
summary: a couple nights later, you head back to joel’s
warnings: 18+!!!! smut again. unprotected piv. fem!afab!reader. angst again don’t worry i’ll make a happy ending okay
word count: 4k
joel mod in gif is by speclizer (so fucking hot oh my GODDDD)
a/n: finally finished part 2 omg i’m sorry for the wait yall… i’m a perfectionist it’s lowkey debilitating. anyways… i hope u guys enjoy <3 tysm for the support on part 1 and tbh on all my other fics too… i can’t believe ppl like my writing that much. i am very grateful! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
im scared but if my heart's gonna break before the night will end
i said we're in danger
sleeping with a friend
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
You cant stop thinking about the kiss. 
The kiss that honestly shouldn’t mean so much to you. You’ve kissed him, like, so many times. So many times his tongue has been in your mouth, been in your damn vagina. So why the fuck… why the fuck are you so worked up over this right now?
It’s just…it was so heavy. It felt like…like more than just a kiss. Like he was laying his life down for you, much like he does in patrols. 
He… Joel… he usually never kisses right after sex. He recognizes in the post-coitus energy that things are different. They mean more. He has to know that. So… why now? Does he…?
No. You’re just in your head again. Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard. You’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before now. Maybe this… maybe this is regular.
But for your own psyche, you think you might have to set some ground rules. 
There was always that main rule, that wretched, critical rule. The one you said to him on the first day of your strange exchange.
“Don’t go falling in love with me, cowboy.”
Well, to hell with that one, right? Pretty sure you’ve beaten that shit to death. Shattered all possible remains of it.
So more rules. More rules will have to do. Starting with:
No kissing.
Should be easy enough. 
You’ll figure out the rest later. You have got to stop thinking about it, though, because you’re on the way to his house right now. 
You knock swiftly on the door, and you swear you feel your heart drop into your pussy the moment he opens the door to reveal himself. A plain, black t-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, haphazardly tucked into a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. His graying hair is ruffled beyond belief, curling around his ears and falling over his forehead. In your fits of passion and desire a couple nights ago, you hardly realized it had grown longer. It looks nice.
This sleepy and soft Joel is not one you’ve seen in a while. Well, it’s not like you’ve seen him much lately anyway, with him having been gone and all. Still, it’s disorienting. 
“Howdy,” he says.
“Um. Hi.” You try not to gawk. “Did…did I come at a bad time, or something?”
“No, not at all. I just got back from patrols… took a shower,” he says, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, strong arms crossing over his chest. There’s a tiny, barely perceptible smirk on his lips. “Need somethin’?”
You see it now, the water clinging to his hair, darkening it, beading at his temples like sweat. You follow a line of water trickling down his throat until it disappears behind his collar.
Rule 2: Don’t come over after he’s showered.
“I…uh, I can come back later if you want—“
You’re nervous to ask him what you want to ask him, which is honestly ridiculous considering you guys have been doing this for months now. You used to be able to just knock on his door and he’d pull you in, and it was that easy. Or you’d give him a look when in public, and he knew exactly what you needed.
Now, you’re painfully awkward. Curse him and curse your feelings.
He straightens a bit, his brows furrowing in slight concern. “What’s goin’ on?”
Heat spreads down your neck, embarrassment. Shame. It’s strange, how just a couple nights ago you let him finger you in public, and now you’re afraid to ask him for sex again in his house and for your panties back.
You should honestly just say something like:
I’m here for my underwear.
And you’re positive he’d say:
Want it back? You gotta earn it, sweetheart.
And your knees would buckle and you’d sink down to the carpeted floor in front of his couch and suck him off until he was coming down your throat, stroking back your hair and thumbing his cum on your plush bottom lip.
But instead you’re scowling at him and blurting: “I need a drink.”
How dare he leave you high and dry for three weeks, come back and fuck the shit out of you, make you realize you’re in love with him, and look this good?
God damnit, you need to get your shit together. 
Joel’s eyes widen, surprised only slightly by your outburst, before he backs up to allow you inside his home. When he shuts the door behind you, his hand settles warmly on your lower back as he steers you toward the kitchen.
He immediately beelines for the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of red for you. A warm, tingly feeling stirs in your stomach at the fact that he knew you’d want wine. The frustration you’ve been feeling fizzles out. 
“You know me so well.”
He gives you a light smirk, uncorking the bottle. The liquor gurgles as he pours it into a glass. “Think you’d kill me if I didn’t know after all this time.”
You laugh, “Sure, but the real test of friendship is if you knew how I’d kill you.”
“A swift kick to the nuts and then one of my guitars to my head.”
Your eyes widen on a guffaw. “You think I’d damage one of your guitars?”
“You care more about my guitars than my genitals?” 
“Yes. Why would I ever smash one of your guitars?”
He rolls his eyes. “Kill two birds with one stone—my soul and my body. It’s effective. If you needed to kill me, I’d hope it was like that. Now how would I kill you?” 
You hum in consideration. “Trick question. You wouldn’t—no, you couldn’t.”
“You know me so well.” 
His words mirrored back at you so gently, with his brown eyes trained on you intently has the warmth in your belly spreading, making you drop your gaze.
His smirk grows and he hands you the wine glass and reaches for some homemade brandy. You watch the muscles in his arm flex as he pours, sipping daintily while your mind replays thoughts of filth. Of you dragging that arm between your legs, grinding down on it until—
“So, you really only here for a drink?” He asks with a playful lilt, taking a sip of his own beverage and effectively jolting you out of your daydreaming.
You lean against the island, wondering if you should tell him the truth. From the way he’s looking at you, hungrily and heated, like a lion ready to pounce, you’re tempted to.
But…you’re afraid. You can’t stop thinking about The Rule. The one you broke and the ones you just made. You wonder if whatever might happen between you two tonight will unravel them before you can even put them into place.
You look up at him through your lashes, lips pursed around the rim of the glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”
His eyes darken, tongue darting out to lick his lips of sweet fermented wine. His gaze travels up and down your figure, comfortable and breathable in a t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy and cute like your sundress from the other night, because today you had to work. But Joel has never minded what you’ve worn, swearing you always look sexy in anything.
Which is something that also makes you question this friends with benefits situation you have here.
He sets his glass down and eases in closer, curling an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “How high’s the chance then?”
“…What do you mean?”
“I mean what’s the probability that you really did only come here for a drink?” he drawls, eyes following your lips as your tongue dips out to wet them. “Or was there another reason?”
The cold tip of his nose brushes along your throat, lips ghosting over your skin. You tremble in his hold. “Odds are in favor of the first option,” you breathe, “ran out of alcohol at my place.”
“And you couldn’t just stop by the Bison? Had to steal from my stores?”
“You know you have the good stuff.”
“You’re lyin’ but I’ll pretend like you ain’t.”
That makes you laugh, and more tumble out of you when one of his hands traces lazily over your stomach, fingers light and delicate and teasing.
“So why d’ya need a drink?”
Because you’re driving me crazy. Because I’m driving myself crazy. Because the universe wants to fuck me over.
You smile and your free hand skates up his muscled back, your fingers brushing along the stretchy fabric of his tee, your voice soft. “Just needed to destress a little. Work has been intense.”
He grins back, presses it into the spanse between your throat and your shoulder, before he lightly scrapes his teeth over it and lays a gentle bite that has you keening into him, pressing your body against his.
“Well, I could help you destress another way too,” he murmurs, palm squeezing the pudgy flesh of your waist, fingers digging lightly into your muscle.
“Mm… yeah?” you hum, your voice a low purr, back arching. Your breasts press into his chest, and Joel makes a sound deep in his throat in agreement.
He presses you into the island, caging you in with his hands on either side of you. He towers over you, a sweatpant clad leg sliding between yours. 
He leans down to kiss you, and a flashing light blares in your mind — NO KISSING — loud and bright and distracting. You turn your head at the last second, his lips landing on your cheek. But Joel doesn’t pull back, doesn’t question you. He just kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, mouthing at you. Sucking your skin to leave little marks that will either fade or be covered by concealer. 
It used to upset you when he left marks because they’re a pain to cover up. Then, you started to like it. You didn’t mind covering up the marks because when you took the makeup off and saw them at the end of the day, all you could think about was him. About the how he made you come. About the words he muttered in your ear. About the feeling of his hands on you—in you. 
Now, you’re starting to grow upset again, but this time it’s because you want to wear them proudly. Want people to know he gets to claim you like this. But… you can’t. But you also don’t want him to stop.
You allow him to continue marking you up, his hand coming up to rest behind your skull, holding you in place. You press your body into his eagerly and with desperate, soft noises that he returns with placating moans.
And then he shifts, and his thigh ruts against your clothed core, and you moan lightly, airily, grinding your hips down against him, searching for any friction. 
His hands curl around the hem of your white tee, and he peels it off your body. One skates behind your back to easily undo the clasp of your bra, and then your breasts are heavy and on display for him. 
Joel stares down at you with heavy eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”
Longing claws at your chest, and you look up at him coyly, your lip caught between your teeth. Joel groans like he’s in pain, and squeezes along the underside of one of your breasts before leaning down to close his mouth over the nipple while his other hand gives attention to the other, squeezing and pinching. Your hands find purchase in his damp hair as low moans tumble from your lips. 
When he’s deemed one nipple adequately appreciated, he moves onto the next. Licking, revering, his dark eyes peering up at you while his peppered hair is fisted in your hands. The sight has slick arousal pooling in your underwear.
Eventually he pulls back and his hands clamp down on your hips. He guides you along the muscle of his thigh, your clit pulsing at the contact. 
“Want you to come on my thigh, baby.” His voice is a ragged slur of words against your ear, warm and paired with a kiss to your cartilage. 
“Fuck…yes, Joel,” you whimper, sparks flying through your nerves with each roll of your hips.
His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him as you rut against his thigh. He’s grinning, eyes heavy lidded and deep, dark like wet tar. They suck you in as if they were quicksand.
You’d let him drag you under a million times over. 
Your best friend.
“Joel,” you moan, feeling yourself grow close. Standing at the cliff's edge. His eyes bore into yours, his grin slipping as he focuses on you. Focuses on making you shatter atop him.
“Come on, baby. You can do it. You can come,” he says encouragingly,  fingers stroking the skin of your hip. You feel tears prick your eyes as the waves crash, spreading from your throbbing clit along your muscles. Filling you with warmth, stronger and deeper than the buzz from the wine.
“Good job,” he praises gently. “Did so good.”
“Shut up,” you huff.
He laughs, and despite yourself, heat floods your body, throbs between your thighs. His words caress a deep, carnal animal inside of you, and the hunger takes over.
You frantically pull at his shirt until he has to tell you to slow down, and takes it off himself. Your hands run along his chest and stomach the moment they’re able to and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm his hardening cock through the soft, gray fabric. Joel groans deep and heavy, his lashes fluttering as he stares you down. His hips thrust into your palm automatically. Involuntarily. 
God, that makes you light up like a firefly. Makes your nerves sing and your cunt flutter and your mind go numb.
He tugs down your shorts and underwear and sets you on top of the granite, but before he can strip the underwear from your ankle to no doubt pocket this pair like he did the other, you flick it off your foot across the kitchen. It lands somewhere near the door to the dining room.
He can’t steal all your underwear, or you’ll have none left.
“I wanted those,” he drawls, expression on the edge of a pout.
“Yeah, well I need them. It’s not common to come across a good pair of panties in this world.” 
“But I’d give ‘em back.” He’s full on pouting now. It is, unfortunately, very cute, but you’re used to it.
“Sure… like the pair you took from me the other night that I have yet to receive.” 
“How else am I supposed to get you to come over?” 
“I dunno? Maybe ask?”
“Should I leave a note on your door? Is that good enough for you?”
“At least be classy. A letter delivered in my mailbox with a wax stamp, please.” 
He laughs. “As you wish, Princess.”
He finally peels off his sweatpants, free of underwear beneath them, and you watch with barely concealed hunger as his cock springs free. 
And while you like the idea of him fucking you on the counter, you’d much rather him fuck you against the counter, so you hop down and turn so your back faces him. Your hands curl around the granite lip of the counter top, and you push your ass out and back, peering at him over your shoulder.
This way, it’s easier for him not to kiss you. Easier for you to turn your head and deny your lips to him. 
“Look at you…” Joel hums appreciatively at your show, at the wiggle of your hips as his palm smooths down your back and over your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh. 
You moan quietly, and Joel’s eyes darken, watching you intently like you’re the only thing in the room. 
His fingers drift down to your cunt and your slickness coats his fingers fully. You’re so wet for him. So ready for him to bury himself inside you and call you his.
It’s funny, you’ve lost all your heat from a few nights ago. All your sharp edged words. Now, you’re soft and pliant.
He swirls his soaked index and middle fingers along your clit, punctuating your sensitivity, before sliding them back inside you to the knuckle. You keen and push back, desperate for more. His fingers are so much longer than yours, thicker, and yet you crave more.
“That’s it, Joel,” you huff. “Fuck, feels so good. Need more.”
“Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby girl.”
Shame lights your cheeks, but you push down the embarrassment. “Need…need your cock inside me.”
He lays a kiss on your neck. “Still a bit desperate aren’t we?”
“You’re the desperate one, Mr. Panty Stealer. You’re a fucking creep.”
He chuckles against your neck, but he squeezes your ass in retaliation. “Be nice, would you?”
“You like it when I’m mean.”
“Wanna see how much I like it?”
“If you’re willing to show me and get on with this, sure.”
He huffs in amused frustration. “God, you’re annoyin’.”
You just smile innocently at him.
Your legs tremble, slick running down your thighs when Joel pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with the hardness of his cock, of which he runs along your wetness, readying himself.
“I think ‘bout you way too much,” he says into your back, pressing a gentle kiss there. “D’ya think ‘bout me too?”
It’s an odd question. One you’re not expecting. One that has your heart stuttering in quiet confusion from this sudden switch in tone.
“Of course I do.” Obviously. You told him as much. Three weeks. Three weeks you thought about him.
“Good… wanna be the only thing on your mind.”
A high pitched keen hisses through your teeth as Joel eases himself inside you with a long, slow stroke and a low moan. Your fingers white knuckle the countertop, gripping it tightly.
He presses in close, burying himself all the way in before he withdraws slowly, his cock sliding inside you torturously. 
“Joel,” you moan.
“I know, baby.” He presses kisses to your shoulders. 
Joel’s hand gravitates to the back of your knee, and he slowly pushes up to lift your leg until your knee is resting on the counter. 
And then… with this new angle…he starts fucking you in earnest.
His hips snap against your ass, the sound deafening in the kitchen, and you crumple against the granite with a moan.
“Shit,” Joel grunts. “Yeah.”
Each of his heavy thrusts punches the air from your lungs, and your fingers slip on the countertop, scrabbling for purchase every chance you can get. He’s hot, thick inside you, warm as he folds over you, his hand on your tummy holding you upright, the other keeping your leg up to continue hitting you at that pleasant, delicious angle.
“H-holy shit—oh—“
He breathes heavily at your neck, low grunts and moans escaping his lips from his efforts. “Could spend eternity inside you, darlin’. Fuck, you’re mine.”
Your heart stutters, the words uttered in a lust filled craze, likely meaning nothing. But to your traitorous brain, to the hope lingering in your chest like a persistent cough, they mean everything. 
“All…” you’re losing your train of thought, fucked into blissful nothingness. “All yours, Joel.” 
It’s too difficult for him to kiss you from this angle, which you’re relieved about. But a part of you longs for it, longs for the feel of his mouth moving against yours. 
Joel’s strong arm wraps around your chest, and pulls you up so you’re flush against his back as he pounds up and into you. Keens and whimpers and breathless pants escape you with every thrust.
“Please, Joel,” you cry, tears pricking at the edges of your swirling vision.
“What, baby?” He huffs. “Need’a come?”
You nod crazily. “Yes—need to—“
“Shhh okay… I’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the hand wrapped around your tummy inching down to circle at your clit steadily.
Your legs buckle beneath you but Joel keeps you upright as the pleasure soars through you, sudden and strong. He strokes you through it, groaning praises into your ear before he comes inside you a moment later. 
The two of you hiss in tandem when he pulls out, but he smothers it when he lays his mouth over yours. You’re hardly coherent enough to remember your rule, and for a moment you let him kiss you. You kiss him back, chasing the heat of his mouth with your own, moaning against his lips when his tongue dips into your mouth. 
Then, you remember.
You pull back panting, cheeks a flame, “Joel.”
“Hm?” He murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw before moving back up to pull you into another kiss. You move away before he can. His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t… I don’t think we should kiss anymore.”
He blinks. “What? Why?”
Your eyes flit across the kitchen, catching on labeled jars and wooden spoons and spices, anything but his own. “It’s too intimate.” 
It’s a lame excuse. Joel sees through it immediately.
“And my cock inside you ain’t?”
You sigh heavily, avoiding eye contact. “It’s different.”
“How? Enlighten me.” His tone has gone rougher. Hurt swirls in his eyes, and you feel worse than you did the other night.
Because you and I are friends. Because I don’t think I can pretend like that’s the truth when all I want is to call you mine. Because when I kiss you it’s like my world finally starts to make sense. 
“Please, Joel. Just…I don’t want to do it anymore. Can you respect that, please?”
He runs a hand down his beard, his hurt expression hardening into a stoic one you haven’t been on the receiving end of in years. Fuck. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t kiss you anymore.”
You expect relief but all that comes is a deep longing and sadness that you try to push to the depths of your conscience. Though, like a buoy, it keeps popping above the surface. 
“Thanks,” you say quietly.
The cleanup is awkward. He watches you silently as you pick up your underwear and slide them and your shorts back on. He seems far away, here and gone all at once. It makes you worry, makes you wonder if what you just said was the biggest mistake of your life.
But you have to do this. You have to hold him at arm's length because if you admit to him…if you tell him how you really feel… maybe he really will leave you. He’ll realize you’ve gone and fucked everything up, and the friendship you’ve kindled, the trust you’ve built, will all be for nothing.
You can’t lose him, even if it means you can’t keep him close.
“Thanks for tonight,” you say eventually, when he’s walking you out the front door.
He smiles at you, faint and untrue. It’s like the one from the other night. Like that laugh he forced out for you. You feel like a Joel from the past has teleported to the present, with his thin smile and his hard eyes. “Yeah, of course.”
“You okay?”
Joel frowns, shifts on his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I dunno. You just seem… I don’t know. Never mind.”
“I’m good.” 
“You sure?”
He nods. “You need me to walk you home?”
“No, I’ll be okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you hum. A moth circles the porch light. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. He looks as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.
“Okay,” is all that he says. 
“Okay,” you repeat, feeling empty. A waif, a lonely white flag waving in the wind. “Um, I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yeah, sounds good. Night, darlin’,” he says, squeezing your arm, like he’s trying to be normal. It doesn’t work. His hand is cold. “Sweet dreams.”
“Night, Joel.”
It’s raining by the time you reach your house, and you curl under your blankets after a shower, your hair cold and wet against your scalp, listening to the droplets splattering against your window.
Sleep doesn’t come easy.
part 3
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haikyu-mp4 · 23 days
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hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍
i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞
Unusual affection
thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3
word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive
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You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.
So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…
that is one gorgeous man!
“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.
“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.
“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.
“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.
He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?
Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.
You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”
“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”
You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”
A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”
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Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.
Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.
“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.
“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.
You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”
Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.
The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.
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Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.
“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.
“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”
Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.
“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”
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Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.
Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.
“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”
Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.
“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.
Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.
masterlist
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brooooswriting · 1 year
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Hey can I request a fic with Jenna or Tara up to you but it’s like reader is not used to people listening and liking her rambling about something she’s passionate about like super hero’s and comics for example and then Jenna or Tara actually do listen without stopping her and saying she’s annoying and then reader gets all giddy and happy
Own world
Popular!Tara Carpenter x reader
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“Did you see the Marvel movie I recommended? It’s really great, the way-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your roommate turned away to talk to someone else which made your shoulder sink. This was quite common, your friends never really listened to you, no matter how important the topic was to you. You loved films, it was just a passion of yours as it gave you some sense of comfort in a shitty household. It was also something to do when everybody else was out but you stayed in due to anxiety. You never guessed today would be different.
“Which one? The new guardian of the galaxy?” A small brunette asked, you didn’t even notice her sit down. She must have sat down while you were quiet for a second after you were interrupted. “N-no, the black widow one” you mumbled out carefully, deciding to keep your sentences short, it minimized the risk of getting cut off. “That’s a great one, the Dynamic between Natasha and Yelena is awesome” she smiled at you. You took a second to look at the girl, she was familiar somehow, you believed that she was in your calculus lecture. “Yeah, it’s nice” you mumbled as you played with your water bottle, you guys had a break but you didn’t like eating in front of people. “And she has never watched it?” The girl asked causing you to shake your head, “well which other marvel movie would you recommend and why?” Your face lit up immediately, hers did too. “Oh, the new Thor movie is quite nice, it has a lot of comedy to it but still maintains a balance between jokes and actual storyline. But if you like leading female roles you should watch the new black panther…” you were, again, interrupted by your roommate who now just noticed the brunette in front of you.
“Omg Tara, when did you sit down? I didn’t even notice you, or I would have rescued you earlier” the side eye that was thrown your way was pretty hard but what was even harder was how the brunette, Tara it seems, laughed. You thought she was dearly interested but you were wrong. With disappointment settled into your chest you stood up and walked away, deciding to go back to your dorm room to read some comics you just got. You didn’t notice the way Tara watched you walk away.
The next time you saw her was the next day in your calculus lecture, she sat a row in front of you with two other girls and two guys, while you sat alone. You knew one of the girls that sat next to her, Mindy, she was in your lecture about film and you worked some project together. The short haired girl turned around and waved at you which made you smile as you waved back.
During the lecture you glanced at the group every now and then to notice the following things: 1. One of the guys was watching football while the other one was weirdly starring at Tara, 2. Mindy was asleep by now and her girlfriend was doing some work for another lecture and 3. Tara was clearly not getting shit down there and she was the next person that had to pretend, which made her panic.
“Psst, Tara” you mumbled lightly kicking her chair which made her turn, “come up here and I’ll explain it and give you my work” you told her looking straight ahead so the prof wouldn’t notice. In a matter of seconds the girl climbed over the table and sat next to you, “you’re my savior” she mumbled out as she scribbled your answers down while you explained why you did what. “Miss Carpenter, it’s your turn presenting” the prof called out causing her to stand up, she gave you one last look. You nodded at her as a signal of support.
“Wow, I gotta say I’m impressed. This is the best you’ve been the whole year, seems like you improved. Well, lecture is over” you quickly packed your bag and walked out before the brunette came back up but she seemed to be quick enough to still catch up outside. She stood next to you and grabbed your arm to bring you to a hold, “thanks, you really saved me there. Let me take you out for coffee as a thank you” she smiled at you as you two stood in the middle of the hall, people watching you. It was uncommon, someone as popular as Tara with someone as shy as you.
“You don’t have to, but thank you. I just saw you struggle so I thought I could help, and I’m happy I could, you really don’t though. Mr. Bakers exercises are pretty hard most of the time so I totally get why you struggled” Tara watched you ramble with a small smile, she liked when you rambled. She had been watching you for a couple of weeks now, in the lecture and out on campus, or when you were with Mindy. “As much as I like your rambling, I’m taking you out for coffee. You still gotta tell me a bit” she grabbed your wrist again and pulled you into a caffe on the other side of the street.
She ordered and after a small argument also payed your food. “So, are you at the frat parts tonight?” She asked as you walked over the campus with coffee in hand, “no” you mumbled as you played with the cup in your hand. “Why not? I bet it’s gonna be fun” she smiled at you, she liked your shyness. “I don’t really like big parties especially if I barely know anyone, too many people and I still have stuff do to for the classes” you explained, “you would know me and Mindy and your roommate is gonna be there too right?” You only shrugged which caused her to drop the conversation.
“Tara, nice to see you” one girl you didn’t know called out which caused the two of you to stop. “Hey, how are you?” Tara asked the girl as she gave her a quick hug, you zoned out while they talked not noticing that they walked away, but it seems like they also didn’t notice that you didn’t walk with them. When you zoned back again they were kinda gone already, so you decided to turn around and head to the dorms throwing your coffee into the trash.
It was 10:30 pm when you sat in your dorm watching the Hawkeye series again until there was a knock on the door which confused you, your roommate only left 20 minutes ago there was no way she would be back already. So you finally stood up and opened the door to see Tara in a short dress with makeup on. She looked ready to go, so why would she be here? “Hi” she only said as she looked up at you, “what can I do for you?” You asked her as you looked over her shoulder. “You disappeared today, I wanted to check on you” you breathed out a laugh at her words, “you left with somebody else. I though you wanted to go to the party” she sighed as she looked into the dorm. “I did but I think I’d rather stay with you” your face bushed so hard that you tried to cover your face as best as possible. Nonetheless you took a step to the side to let the girl enter your dorm where she was quick to look around your side.
There were posters from the marvel movies and some pictures on the wall, the shelf’s were filled with comics and some books. “So what are we watching? She asked as she sat on your bed, making herself at home, “I was watching the Hawkeye series but we can watch whatever” you mumbled as you sat next to her. “Is that with the guy who shoots arrows?” You laughed a bit as you sat down next to her, “yeah, Hawkeye or Clint Barton but it isn’t just about him”
Five minutes later you were rambling about what kind of impact someone like Kate bishop had on the whole phase and what could possibly happen between Yelena and her. You were talking on and on without any pause, a smile on your face and your hands wildly gesticulating. “I mean it’s just something different you know? And the way they keep on putting more women into the leading roles just gives us as women a totally new opportunity” and again you just kept on talking until you suddenly stopped and just looked at the brunette in front of you. “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” She asked as she scanned your face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to talk the whole time and annoy you” you said as you tuned away from her a bit. “What? Why’d you say that? I was very interested, come on keep talking” she encouraged you with a hand on your leg. “Really?” The shock on your face made her laugh a bit, “yeah”
So you kept talking, you were all giddy, smiling and laughing as you explained why you were so invested and she listened, sometimes asking questions but all with a smile on her face. “Do you maybe wanna, you know, stay and watch it with me? I could lend you something to wear if you want” she smiled brightly as she nodded.
Ten minutes later you two laid in bed in joggers and hoodies, her makeup was washed off showing her natural beauty. The Hawkeye series was playing in the background, “thank you” your voice was small and she wouldn’t have heard you if you weren’t laying so close. “Why?” She asked as she looked at you instead of you laptop, “because you listened to me, people barely do” you explained which made her sigh. The younger carpenter wasn’t sure what to say so instead she just shuffled closer and cuddled up to you.
Somewhere between the episode the two of you fell asleep, cuddled up with the series playing quietly. You woke up the next morning with a sticky note next to your pillow, it was from Tara.
“I had to go back before my sister kills me. Lunch at 2pm? If not call me
Xxx-xxx-xxx”
You smiled at the note as you got ready.
After some torturing lectures it was finally 2 pm. You went outside to find Tara and her group sitting at a table, she immediately waved you over. “Y/n, good that you’re here. Marvel or DC?” Mindy asked as Tara pulled you to sit next to her. “Marvel all the way” you answered causing Mindy and the younger carpenter to high-five. “No, so not true. DC has way better storylines” Chad said, his twin immediately booing him. “Y/n, tell him how he is wrong” the girl next to you said, but you were to self conscious about your rambling. “It’s fine, trust me” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms around your waist which gave you the comfort to start talking.
This was the first time in years that you finally had someone who wanted to listen to you. You discussed the topics with the others while Tara gazed up at you like you hung the stars.
Again you mumbled a “thank you” to her which made her kiss your cheek. You blushing again
She couldn’t wait to take you on a date.
You were scared of the way people were going to react.
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juuuulez · 4 months
Text
📰 | part ten: capulet.
info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, gun violence, father figure! Negan, soooomeeee ooonneee has a crush, teenagers in love.
summary: You tussle with your emotions regarding Carl, whilst Grimes and co pay a surprise visit to the Sanctuary.
omg i’m on fire!!!!! cliffhanger ending……but also next chapter will be similarly juicy so don’t fret! also half-written a carl x reader oneshot/drabble i’ll post soon between chapters :P
i’m so glad you all love my saviour reader story because i am her she is me…….this series is my CHILD i will defend it with my life!
-> masterlist <-
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You hadn’t been to Alexandria in, frankly, what felt like years.
It was actually just weeks.
With an alliance between Hilltop, the Kingdom, and Alexandria, things for the Saviours were trickier than ever. Most of the time Negan spent in his office, trying to decode the best play. You helped, of course, and were practically running yourself ragged trying to keep things together at the Sanctuary.
It felt like everyone knew what was happening. Or they expected it, were waiting for it. It irritated you to no end, that others would blatantly show their disbelief in your cause, in Negan’s cause.
And then there was Carl.
You missed him, which was weird. He had become a constant in your life, the arguing and fighting, the pushing and shoving. But now your relationship had crested into something else… and you didn’t hate it.
In fact, you quite enjoyed kissing Carl.
Not that you’d admit that. To him, to anyone. Nobody needed that amount of power over you.
“You can go to bed, doll.”
You looked up from your lap, where a book of supply schedules was scribbled down. You were seated on that long leather couch in Negan’s office, whilst he worked on god knows what. Hopefully a viable strategy.
“No, I’m fine.” You tell him, politely. Too politely.
Truth is, you were hanging on by a thread. But with no supplies from Alexandria, nor Hilltop, the situation at the Sanctuary was becoming dire. You were trying to figure out how to jig things around so that everyone could be satisfied, or maybe even rethinking the points system, making the imaginary economy more competitive.
“I’m serious,” Negan insists, “You don’t gotta be doin’ this shit. It’s below you.”
You roll your eyes, “Who’s gonna do it, then? Simon’s corpse?”
The sarcastic comment earns you a glare in return, which does make you feel a little bad. You’d watched the brawl firsthand, and had almost tried to help Negan, if not for Dwight holding you back. Either way, it didn’t matter, for Simon was eventually strangled to death.
Brutal, but fitting.
Maybe you were trying to fill that void. The line between right-hand man and teenage daughter was thinning.
Negan rose from his seat, coming over to stand in front of you. He didn’t even need to lean down, swiftly plucking the tattered notebook from your lap, to which you groaned and leaned back on the couch.
He inspected it, reading over the numbers and scrawled figures. “You’re doing this wrong.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should start making your wives do the bookkeeping.” You grumbled, laying down on the couch in defeat.
Negan tossed the notebook onto the coffee table, sitting on the couch opposite you. “Doubt they can count past ten.”
It was a terrible thing to say, but got a smile out of you. It was difficult to be in a good mood on so little sleep, so the tiniest hint of happiness was well appreciated.
“When will we go to Alexandria again?”
You tried not to sound too interested in the question, but couldn’t help yourself, and needed to ask. Not for Carl, just for supplies. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
“Soon. Give it another week,” Negan confirmed, though his eyes said he knew something more. “Awfully interested in that shithole, aren’t you?”
This caused you to roll over, onto your side, so you could glare over at the older man. “We need that shithole to survive.”
There was a playful glint on Negan’s face, the words earning a small laugh from him. “Maybe you do. Bet you’re just itchin’ for your little cyclops.”
The joke causes you to bristle, irritation rising as you hoist yourself from the couch, making a play for the door. On such little sleep, you weren’t in the mood to entertain being teased.
But Negan stopped you, that grin still on his face. “Hey, c’mon, doll. You know I’m just tryin’ to rile you up.” He admits, coming to a stand.
The glare remains, but at least you stop your escape, instead just standing near the door with your arms crossed. You’d likely give some defensive retort, but Negan is already speaking again.
“Everyone has their first crush at some point. I’m just surprised it took you this long.”
“I don’t have a crush,” You practically snarl. “I’m not twelve years old.”
“Okay, sorry. Not a crush,” Negan approaches slowly, like you’ll run off again, though is pleased when you stand still. “Sounds like it’s past your bedtime.”
Your nose scrunches up, eyes narrowed in offence as he continues to treat you like a child. But you know he’s just making a point to tease you, judging by that stupid grin on his face, so you try not to react.
His hands bracket your arms, giving you a little spin so that you’re facing the door. But now you sigh, turning back around, unable to just drop this conversation all together.
“You don’t care?” You ask. “Like, if I did have a crush, you don’t even mind? Not that I do, I’m just… wondering.”
Negan smiles, finding your half-confession quite adorable. “That’s what kids do, darlin’. Besides, the boy’s got his head on straight. Certainly got more balls than his father.”
You look down at the floor, a little pensive. “I don’t have a crush on Carl.” You reiterate, standing your ground, trying to sound firm in order to convince the both of you.
He seems to get the hint, understanding that maybe you don’t even know what’s going on. “I know, doll. Don’t stress it too much.” Negan drops the subject, letting his arm encase your back for a small squeeze before letting you go. “Go get some rest.”
You muster up a little smile, finally accepting the offer and scampering back off to bed. After all, you were exhausted, despite that inherent need to make yourself useful. Supply counts could wait.
It was a comforting space, your bedroom, one you retreated to whenever things got overwhelming. It was filled with photos and trinkets, candy stashed away in the drawers, all the things you didn’t have when growing up. It was your space.
That night, you fell asleep weighing the severity of simply going to Alexandria yourself. You passed out a few minutes into debating what transportation to take.
Fortunately, or, probably unfortunately, that wasn’t necessary.
For Alexandria had come to you.
Gunfire was a familiar sound to wake up to. Usually, it was a low-level squabble, or maybe one of the Saviours proving a point. Either way, it never lasted long.
But this time, there was shouting, and more bullets. It was enough to jolt you awake, pushing past that bleary state of consciousness and waiting, still, for it to continue.
It did.
You climbed out of bed with urgency, moving on autopilot as you threw on some jeans, not bothering to change from your sleep tank before bolting for the door.
Just as your fingertips brushed the bat, you realised it wouldn’t do. That gun was still locked away in the bottom drawer, so you reached for it, shoving a handful of bullets into your pocket before leaving.
Now, you’ve never been a very good shot. That’s why you preferred using the bat, or at the very least, hand-to-hand combat. You had terrible aim. But maybe now was the best time to fix that issue.
So, you made your way through the Sanctuary, swiftly stepping through hallways, gun at the ready. You were outside in minutes, the shouting becoming much clearer now, a voice you could recognise:
Rick Grimes.
“Fuck this..” You grumbled, growing irritated with this relentless back and forth. And now, they were in your home.
Another shot blew out the glass from above you, forcing you further against the wall, as the shards piled on the concrete. Some littered your skin, your shoulders bare, due to still wearing a tank intended for sleeping. You didn’t even have a bra on.
But there were worse problems, you supposed.
The gun felt heavy in your hands, fingers twitching around the trigger. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to use it, though that seemed like wishful thinking. You wondered where Negan was, yet believed he could handle himself. You and this gun were the main concern, a gun you had no idea how to use effectively.
You hid behind anything available, crouched down, trying to survey the surroundings. From here, you could see the scattered factions of makeshift soldiers, though Rick was now missing. You presumed he had a similar thought process to you: Negan.
That was fine, for now.
Clutching the gun tightly, you shifted into view, holding it outwards and discharging a shot into the distance. It echoed in the nearby vicinity, though there was too much gunfire to distinguish where it had came from, luckily. It didn’t seem to hit anyone.
What a waste.
“Hey!”
It was a whisper-shout, one clearly intended to gain your attention. You spun your head around, searching for the voice, amongst all the yelling and fighting taking place within your home. It took an embarrassing amount of time until you saw him.
Carl.
Thank fucking god.
He’d been watching you, on alert for your figure the second they arrived. He clocked your creeping approach into the battle field, ducking behind anything possible. It was almost amusing, the stark contrast in how you usually chose to fight, but made sense after you fired that hopeless shot.
You had no idea what was going on, assuming that Negan and Rick were off fighting, whilst a few Saviours tried to keep the rival gang at bay. Or gangs, plural. You guessed that speaking to Carl would be your best chance at getting a grip on the situation. That, and you weren’t in the mood for a defensive Saviour to shoot him.
So, you tried to get closer, looking left and right to make sure the coast was clear before ducking behind rubble or vehicles, anything to provide cover. Carl was used to fighting, sure, but felt slightly anxious for a reason he couldn’t pin. It was just a bad feeling, like something was not right.
This time, Carl called out your name, causing you to look up and at attention. He held out his hand, despite being meters away, a signal to come closer under the cover he’d found.
You clutch the gun tightly, safety off, poised at your side. But it’s difficult to see everyone, from this position, forcing you to inch out from behind the truck in order to get a visual.
Still holding out his hand, Carl waits, watching as you peek your head out.
Pop!
A shot fires, crackling in the distance, though it takes you down with a solid thud.
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jadedrrose · 9 months
Note
(congrats on 1k !!! 🎊🎊)
wanna request a sfw fluffy oneshot for law, one that’s just like taking care of him (he needs a break fr!!) i don’t have anything specific in mind so i’ll leave it up to you 🤭
Just Relax For Once
thank you!!!! This is officially my first completed request for the 1k event, omg 😭 I hope you enjoy it!!!! Edit: I ALMOST FORGOT TO GIVE THIS A TITLE OMG
Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, not proof-read
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You’ve honestly lost track of how many times this has gone on this week. 
At least five. And that was only this week alone. Every evening, Law would claim he’d have too much work to do and would come to bed later. Except later, in his mind, was either the incredibly early hours of the morning, or never. And this week, it had almost always been never.
Today was the third day in a row where you’d once again woken up to your bed half empty. Law’s side would remain untouched, sheets cold and pillow still fluffed up as though nobody’s head had lay on it. 
You’d go about your normal morning routine, not taking too much time. Then without fail, you’d walk over to Law’s little office room aboard the Polar Tang, gently open the door, and discover him sleeping at his desk, in the most uncomfortable position you’d ever seen. 
His back would always be hunched over, right arm folded underneath his head which was halfway smushed into the desk. Law’s left arm would hang loosely by his side, lightly swaying as his chest rose and fell with every breath he took. Honestly, the sight was endearing, almost cute, but it always upset you to see he’d overworked himself yet again. 
Walking to his side quietly, you gently placed a hand onto your husband’s shoulder, slowly rubbing your palm against the skin to gradually wake him.
“Law,” you whispered, giving him an expectant look as you waited for him to awaken. 
He grumbled something incoherent, turning his head in the opposite direction of where you stood beside him.
“Law,” you tried again, gently shaking him this time. “Wake up. You fell asleep at your desk again.”
Law groaned this time, slowly raising his head up before rubbing his face with his left hand. “What time is it?” He asked you, voice hoarse and rough.
“Eleven.”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed, then?” He further questioned, slowly blinking as he tried waking himself up more.
“Eleven in the morning, Law,” you clarified with the rolling of your eyes. “You’ve been in here since… what, ten last night?”
“Ah, shit,” he cursed, voice clearing as he seemed fully conscious now. “M’sorry, y/n.”
“No, Law,” you shook your head. “Don’t apologize, okay? You’re stressed, baby.”
“No I’m not,” he denied, pouting his lips as soon as he was done speaking.
You giggled, “mhm. Still, I want you to relax for once.”
“I’m clearly relaxed right now,” Law argued, gesturing to how he was half-laying at his desk.
“No, if anything you’re straining your back too much and ruining your posture. Come on, Law. You’re the doctor here. You should know this better than anyone,” you lectured, placing your hands on your hips and raising an eyebrow at your lover.
“As a doctor, it’s my job to take care of others,” he replied, finally standing up and stretching. 
Law raised his arms above his head, hands forming into fists as his limbs seemingly trembled, a yawn escaping his lips as he stretched. The sight was a pleasing one to you, and if it hadn’t been for your concerned behavior over your husband, you would’ve been shamelessly admiring the view before you.
“So you’ll take care of others but not yourself?” You questioned, in reference to his comment before you’d nearly become distracted.
“Who says I have to?” 
Sighing, you crossed your arms and gave the raven-haired man a deadpanned look, “you’re so childish, Law.”
“Could be worse,” he hummed, giving you a lazy smirk. “You could’ve married that idiot Euastass. Or even Mugiwara-ya.”
Amused, you scoffed with a smile playing on your lips. “Luffy is hardly an adult, even if he technically is one. Kidd… creeps me out, so…”
“So you picked the right one?” Law tried finishing your sentence, a smile forming on his face.
“Sure,” you giggled. “Because at least you shower.” 
Law let out a loud, genuine laugh at your statement. His laughter caused you to go from quiet giggles to joining in on the more audible amusement. 
“Speaking of which, maybe you should take a bath?”
“Why? We never do that, waste’s too much time-“
“Because I want you to relax,” you explained, already shoving Law out of his office and back toward your bedroom. 
He let out an annoyed groan, but really, you could tell Law was looking forward to the princess treatment, at the way he simply let you drag him into the bathroom. 
Once he was in the bath, you sat up on the ledge behind him, working shampoo into his messy black hair. Law leaned into your touch, drumming his tattooed fingers against the edge of the tub as you massaged his scalp.
Gently, you used your nails to scratch at his hair, and you could’ve sworn your husband was a cat, at the way he leaned further into you and practically purred with satisfaction.
After Law’s hair was clean, you massaged his back and shoulders with some body soap in your hands. The black tattoos on his tanned body seemingly disappeared underneath the foamy substance, the room filling with a sweet scent as you worked away.
Once the bath was done, you finally got Law into bed, making sure he had plenty of pillows and would be nice and warm underneath the blankets. 
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re asleep,” you said, with a teasing tone. “Then I’ll go ahead and make you some breakfa-“ your eyes flicked to the clock, which read twelve-forty five. “-lunch, rather. ‘Kay?”
“Okay,” Law agreed, playfully raising an eyebrow at you before closing his eyes. And honestly, you were surprised at how quickly he fell asleep. He must’ve been really tired.
Smiling, you hopped off the bed and made your way to the kitchen, figuring you should make something Law would especially enjoy waking up to. 
Grilled fish it was, then.
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greazyfloz · 1 year
Note
you're the coach's daughter and dating ethan behind your dad's back, maybe he finds out
Coaches Daughter
Warning: spicy, some language
I have been dating Ethan since about a month into this years hockey season. I didn’t meet him how people would typically think I would have being the daughter of his hockey coach. Instead I met him at the huge football parties at the beginning of the school year. After we met one night at a party, we generally just snapchatted, texted and kept in touch online.
Ethan knew his coach had a daughter but didn’t know what she looked like. When he did find out it didn’t seem to bother him, probably because in early stages we both didn’t think there was anything between the two of us. 
I started going to the same parties as Ethan more and I became closer to the freshman on the hockey team, then later Ethan and I would typically head back to his place after. One thing about our relationship is that still after almost a whole season of hockey, it still doesn’t feel like a real relationship. 
“When do you have to leave?” I say as we are cuddling on my bed. It is game day so my father leaves home at around noon and doesn’t come home until after the game. Ethan and I both skipped class this afternoon so we could be alone since the boys wouldn’t be there and both of my parents were at work. “Around 4:30'' he says while playing with my hair. I look over at my clock that reads 3:55. “Take your shirt off” I say before standing up. Ethan laughs shaking his head, “not here Y/N” he says still laughing. 
“He won’t come home” I say before turning to my closet and taking my shirt off so I am in my bra only, looking at him so he can see the front side of me before taking my bra off too. “I guess we can be quick” ethan says standing up from my bed. I turn away from ethan as he started taking off his shirt and grab a new shirt from my closet before putting it on. I turn back around to see a sad ethan at the sight of my new shirt. 
I lean in kissing him before pushing him back down on my bed. “Why the sad look babe?” I say looking down at him while climbing on top of him. I sat on his lower thighs and played with the button of his pants “N-nothing” ethan gulps as I undo his pants and unzip his pants. I hopped beside him on the bed and he took that as a que to take his pants off leaving him only in his boxers. I climb back on top quickly and crash my lips back to his. The kiss gets hot and rough fast, until I break away to kiss his jaw and down his neck leaving hickeys all the way down.
“Ugh your so sexy, you should have kept your shirt off” Ethan says looking up at me. He begins to make out with me again when his hands traveled from his normal hand placement on my ass to under my shirt rubbing my back. He brings he hands to my sides and travel them up the sides of my body lifting my shirt slightly on the way up until…
“Don’t you have somewheres to be,” my father yells. Immediately I push myself off ethan at the same time ethan is pushing me off him exposing Ethan in only his boxers. Ethan then bends down to pick up his clothes. “I’ll see you at Yost” he says sternly to ethan before looking at me, “and I will chat with you tonight! ” he says pointing at me. He stood there until Ethan left before giving me a disgusted look and slamming the door behind him.
I got up and took my shirt off to put my bra on under it. Before fixing my hair and leaving to get something to eat before the game. As I sat in my car to leave I pulled my phone out to text Ethan when I got a text from one of the media girls:
Maggie: OMG 
Maggie: You and Ethan?!
Maggie: How did I not see it before??
Y/N: Oh no, how did you find out?
I replied to her before switching contacts to ethans:
Y/N: Hi baby, good luck. I probably won’t be at the party tonight. Don’t worry about him though, I’ll talk to him!
Y/N: Should I keep the bra off or put it back on for the game? ;)
Y/N: too soon?
I press send as my phone went off indicating that Maggie had replied:
Maggie: Your dad walked into the arena all angry and apparently when ethan walked in he said glad to see you again with your clothes on. 
Maggie: Come find me, I need the tea
  I laugh before putting my phone down and heading over to chipotle. I ran in and left my phone in the car. When I came back to the car, Ethan replied to my text:
Eddy Bear 🐻: Thanks babe
Eddy Bear 🐻: and off ;)
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fruitsoxs · 10 months
Note
I'll be waiting this can i request my woowoo with reader.
She have long hair and need help trim it ( cause no man land Its God damn hot). She ask vash first, but somehow he suggest to wolfwood ( he's really good on that). At first wolfwood says " why you trim it, it looks good on you". In agreement he will cut her hair as the reward is A kiss 😳 PS ( wolfwood kinda like touch her hair it so soft and caught him Its really embrassing him)
Thank you for reading this !
I love you writer ITS MAKE ME MELT OMG
😳😳😳🥺🥺🥺
i love just small fluffy things like this
pairing(s); wolfwood x reader warnings; some swearing notes; some fluff for my favorite day of the week! ty for this cute request!
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“Why don’t you ask Needle Noggin?” Wolfwood huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s trying his best to look indifferent about the entire situation. When, in reality, his chest is fluttering at the thought of helping you cut your hair. There’s a small blush on his cheeks that he’s hoping you can’t see. He’s outside of the inn you’re staying at, smoking under the light of the moon.
You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “I already asked him- he told me to come to you.” You explain. Of course he did. He tries his best to hide his embarrassment by groaning in annoyance. He stands up straight, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his shoe. He leans towards you, looking over your features. 
“What about the shorty?” “Meryl? She’s already asleep. Please help me out? Just this once?”
His curious eyes trail over your figure, up to your head. He cocks his head to the side “Why do ya want to cut it anyway? It looks good.” he points out, causing your cheeks to light up. “I just…It’s getting too long. I’m ready for a change, y’know?” You find yourself avoiding eye contact with the man. He’s always making you feel so flustered.
He can’t help but admire your cute little flustered expression. It helps him build the confidence he needs to actually do this. You see, he’s got a little thing for you. He thought you were pretty cute from the moment he laid eyes on you. After getting to know you though, well, his feelings just took off. Doing something like this almost feels a little too real for him, too intimate. Usually he would say no right away, but seeing you under the moonlight… 
After a while he lets out a sigh and nods his head. “Alright fine.” he finally agrees, but there’s a hint of mischief in his dark eyes as he leans closer again. “I’ll trim it up, if I can get a little reward afterwards.” a smirk rests across his features. “Oh? And what kind of reward is that?” You ask, rolling your eyes at his little cocky gesture.
His heart stops for a second. Should he say it? 
Fuck it.
“I’ll trim your hair if you give me a kiss.” he finally says, hoping that the nervousness in his eyes isn’t so easily seen. Your own eyes seem to widen at the comment, red covering your cheeks and ears as you stutter out a little response. It’s adorable, and Wolfwood can’t help but smile.”Okay…” you whisper. Wolfwood turns his head so his ear is facing towards you, cupping his hand around it.  “What was that?” He asks, pretending as though he couldn’t hear you..
You pout a bit and repeat your words., this time a little louder. “I said okay!” He grins and wraps an arm around you, leading you back into the inn. “Well then, let’s go sweetheart.” 
You make your way inside, and to his room where he has you sit down on an old wooden chair in front of him. He grabs some dull scissors, and looks over at you. “How short am I going?” He asks, hovering his hand above your head. Your shrug, keeping your eyes forward and away from him. “Just take a few inches off.” He nods, and gets to work. He starts by combing through your locks gently. It’s so relaxing, he finds himself almost unable to stop. Your hair is so soft- so beautiful. His fingers drag through your hair, separating any knots as gently as he can. You sigh a bit, and lean back, enjoying the attention you’re getting.
He finds himself blushing again. He likes the intimacy of the moment. He finds himself petting through your hair, even after all the knots are gone. “You’ve got soft hair.” he comments out loud suddenly. Even he is surprised by the sudden admission. You let out a soft chuckle. “Thanks.” And the room falls silent again.
Wolfwood shakes his head and grabs the scissors, holding them with a nervous smile. “Well, here goes nothing.” he mumbles before he starts to trim your hair. He works quietly, and cautiously. Careful not to make a mess of your hair. He can’t imagine he would get his kiss if he made you look stupid. He’s done this before plenty of times though. He cuts his own hair whenever it gets too long, and he’s cut Vash’s hair before.
When he’s done, he steps back and admires his work. It’s a little messy, but it doesn’t look back.
“And done.” me murmurs softly. You run your hands through your own hair, and smile. “Thanks a bunch Wolfwood!” you jump up and disappear off into the bathroom for a second, probably checking the damage. When you come back you’ve got a cute little smile on your face. 
“It looks great.” you comment stepping closer towards him. You lean forward, and press your lips against his cheek gently. You pop back and smile cheekily. “And that’s your reward!” You exclaim, cheeks burning pink. You then turn around, and quickly leave the room.
Wolfwood puts a hand against his cheek, his own face bright red. 
“Wow.”
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turtleblogatlast · 8 months
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okay so just so you know, im literally in love with your prison!leo au, yesterday i spent like over an hour scrolling through the tag and i think i read every post at least twice (more for the comics). its combining ‘prison dimension has permanent effect on leo, and not just mentally’, ‘immortality angst’, ‘object or place having a form of sentience’, AND ‘leo is somehow made significantly younger than his brothers which very much changes their dynamic without him wanting it to’ all into one which is just amazing.
i love how you combined comedy and tragedy very well!! like, for example the idea of leo being mistaken for the youngest brother, than a son, then a GRANDSON, is kinda funny for a second, but when you think about it for more than a couple seconds its also. really tragic. this poor kid may never be able to fully grow up - not only is he likely going to outlive his whole family but hes also permanently in the body of a child, lacking a fully developed brain and maybe never having the full maturity of an adult (at least in path b, until hes able to find a ‘cure’, if ever). its just. so good!!
anyways aldjsldkksld enough of the gushing (i mean i could keep doing it for like two thousand more words, but if i did it would probably devolve into keysmashes at some point from the Grip this au has on my brain). i am curious, what would happen if leo got sick? i know you mentioned that things like a common cold wouldnt really affect him that much, but what about one of those sickness is that leaves you pretty delirious/feverish and can take you out in a matter of a week? (could be a type of mystic sickness or curse as well, where you don’t know if the victim will survive or not and the only option is to wait it out.) what would happen? would they sort of just decide that its better to find a way to temporarily kill him so his body could regenerate as new, or would they try to take care of him and see if they could wait it out, since i imagine it would be the only time he’d really let his family take care of him in that way. thats all assuming his body wouldnt just automatically find a way to heal the separate curse and he’d be well again within an hour (still not fully sure as to how his healing works, sorry!)
anyways, love this au and im going to be obsessed with it for the next Month thanks
[ cw: discussion of murder / discussion of mercy kill / risky behavior implied / ]
Omg I’m
So touched???
Thank you for enjoying my AU so much, it really makes me happy to hear this :’) This whole AU was thought up exactly because of my interest in the concepts you mentioned - particularly the one regarding the Prison Dimension having a permanent and visible effect on Leo.
I know I haven’t updated it in a while, but I am still working on it and have even finished drafting the next comic, I can’t say when I’ll finish it but this ask definitely pushed me to work on it more so thank you so much <3
As for your question- it depends! In most regular illnesses, Leo would get over them very quickly, only experiencing the briefest brush with the symptoms before his body throws it away, if that. If the illness is mystic in nature then things get a little more complicated, as you’re right in that it could potentially end up as an endless loop of the first part of whatever weird sickness he gets. So if the illness is something that instantly affects you in the worst ways, and it’s something you just need to ride out until it leaves…that can potentially be harmful. Of course, it needs to be a powerful illness to bypass the prison’s curse to that extent though. …then again, maybe something would prefer that for him, should it appear beneficial :)
As for whether the fam would decide to just…’reset’ Leo to get rid of the illness…that’s a tough one. It really depends on how long Leo’s been back, and even then, it’s not something they’d just do, it’s hard for them to even imagine really. More likely, a sickly Leo would merely try to find a cure himself in his delirium, and end up ‘reset’ along the way.
I hope my wishy washy answer was enough! And really, thank you so much again for the kind words, they mean a lot :’)
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catiuskaa · 3 months
Text
new task: valentine’s day [ACTS]
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A/N: reposting by acts! [see full version here]. wanted to see if this format works better (and yes i will squeeze everything in this one right here cause its amazing and i 100% worked my ass off on it)
PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!
SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.
WC: 0.651k
CW: fluffy comfort, use of spanglish (not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format, the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), academic rivals, bad student reader x good student seungmin, mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying, mentions of being followed, (pet)names: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is kind of a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)
|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|
[☆★🌷★☆]
{PROLOGUE: THE GROUPCHAT}
At first, you didn’t really know him.
To think for a second that there was a time where you didn’t know who he was made you sigh. Oh, how you wish you had never, ever encountered him.
…Kim Seungmin.
Some may say that ‘rivals’ or ‘enemies’ is a term that could seem too intense regarding a simple statement: that you two didn’t get along.
But no. Because those kind of words were exactly how you’d define your relationship.
And it had all started the first day of your last year before graduating. When you made the class groupchat.
> you created ‘Year 13-A 😼😼’
> you added ‘lucas🤺’ ‘atenea🛐’ ‘noa🫶’ and 16 more.
> you: guys help, am I missing people?
> you: @ atenea🛐 told me to create this group for homework n stuff but idk if I have everyone’s numbers 😵‍💫😵‍💫
< noa🫶: tía you’re missing two people no?
< lara💋: hala, new people?? 👀
< noa🫶: pero- they’re literally from the other group, girl
< abril🌻: you even know them lara
< abril🌻: se te va la pinza JAJSJA
< miguel📚: sí, there should be 22 people (creo)
> you: oh right, Lix told me!
> you: yeah i’ll add them now, brb 🏃‍♀️
Well.
Rookie mistake.
> you added ‘kim seungmin™️’, ‘hyunjin🎨’
> you: omg i even added everyone
< lucas🤺: omg omg
< kim seungmin™️: omg omg so crazyy
You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly as you texted. But that was just because you hadn’t talked to him before.
Now was a different story, of course. You wouldn’t smile, not for Kim Seungmin.
> you: @ kim seungmin™️ what was crazy is how difficult it was finding someone who had your phone number, lol
< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: fr fr omg
< lucas🤺: que es omg
< lucas🤺: ‘oh me gustas’ ? omg?
< lara💋: you’re such an idiot, asshole
< lucas🤺: ohhh you love me so bad 😌😌😌
< isabel🌸: she knows better lol
< lucas🤺: dude, you’re my sister
< lucas🤺: shouldn’t you be backing me?
< isabel🌸: there’s a fee for that, dude.
You giggled at the stupid teasing, used to your mates’ shenanigans that never ceased to make you laugh.
But then, he replied.
< kim seungmin™️: @ you the only difficult thing here is you reaching graduation
Your smile faded.
You read that once more. Then again. And another time.
You chuckled dryly.
What was this guy on about?
> you: ah? wdym?
You remember thinking that maybe he was joking. That maybe he was someone who talked to people with a lot of harsh remarks without really meaning them. That maybe he was trying to be funny, or something.
Other texts showed up, but Kim Seungmin —named like so in the contact Felix had shared to you— wasn’t replying.
< minho🐈: guys wtf it’s 00:12
< lucas🤺: oh he uses the other clock
< lucas🤺: so its am-pm for us but not for you
< lucas🤺: think you’re special? wanna fight?
< noa🫶: lucas just shut up and go to bed
< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: damn right 🛌🛌🛌
< miguel📚: guys, stop texting 😓
> you: yeah guys lol
< minho🐈: no u started this
< minho🐈: u shush
You snickered softly, used to Minho’s humour, quickly playing along.
> you: ?! unfair ☝️🤓
< kim seungmin™️: no, minho’s right for once
< kim seungmin™️: you should shush
< kim seungmin™️: you’re less annoying when you’re quiet
You frowned at your phone, your face contorted in angry confussion.
Who did this guys think he was?
With a huff, you typed a rapid “gtg guys!”, ignoring Seungmin’s texts, and quickly settled your phone back on your pocket, getting off the bus and finally arriving home.
You groaned, the text that that Seungmin idiot had sent still rolling in your head even after you laid in bed. You passed your hands through your hair.
“Difficult to reach graduation?” You mumbled, eyes fixated ln the chatroom the sentence feeling like acid in your mouth.
Kim Seungmin wasn’t ready for how difficult his last year was going to be, solely for his stupid text message.
[☆★🌷★☆]
SPECIAL THANKS! To my lovely pookies @lyramundana and @tonks-21 for ideas and support, plus also, most of the classmate’s names are thanks to gorgeous gourgeous @stayconnecteed and her spanishverse series bc i’m so invested! Go check all of their blogs out! 100% recommend. son mis chicas españolitas, hehe&lt;3
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wordstome · 5 months
Note
YOUR König thoughts are some xgame shit oh em goodness “Aside from the fact he’s hung like a horse” YOU DID NOT. That’s disgusting. You should be ashamed. (I agree wholeheartedly)
But it got me thinking about König meeting a sniper!Reader? Cannot be a healthy dynamic but I’m a sucker for emotionally dysfunctional men.
Imagine you show up one day, butt unceremoniously into his life and introduce yourself in a way that drums up an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He’s all too smitten and then your introduction has to go and end with ‘-and I’ll be joining the team as a resident sniper’. Those butterflies in his stomach turn into a weight on his heart.
Why you of all people? He was rejected and reassigned. His long-term aspirations snuffed out like nothing. Meanwhile, you complain about the bruising below your clavicle? Ridiculous, stupid thing you are to be so ungrateful.
Doesn’t matter if you actually aren’t whining as much as he thinks you are. From the minute he finds out what position you’re taking, everything he says and does is vindictive and downright rude. He doesn’t do it consciously and afterwards his internal monologue is just a running cycle of ‘why did I say/do that?’ Not to mention the dent in his wall from banging his head against it lmaoo
His regret doesn’t stop the impulse to make snide comments that fray your nerves. More than they already are just by being proximal to the huge man, that is. What you were experiencing at his hand was unnervingly like how he was treated was back in school. Or going through basic training with COs screaming up at him and degrading him.
It takes you finally sitting him down, the built-up exasperation at his behaviour driving you to be a lot more imposing to him that someone of your size should’ve been, for him to sort out his feelings. After acknowledging that he really had nothing against you (besides jealousy) that initial feeling of fixation returns.
A couple months of annoyance too late, if your huff of irritation was any indicator. It’ll take him awhile to get over that built-up resentment, none of which is technically your fault, but you can figure out some kind of union fwb situation? Right?
It would make such a good slow burn sobbing and rolling but that was completely unnecessary no idea where that came from. I’m so glad my cod interest and my fanfiction writing era didn’t overlap because I would be working like a dog on full-length novels about these men omg
-Dented and Recruited anon 🫡
MY FAVORITE ANON GRACES MY INBOX AGAIN...look, it's not my fault, they literally gave him a bulge. Is it just protective equipment? Probably! But you can't tell me a 6'5"-10" man doesn't have a dick to match. Come ONNNNN
*ahem* wow. Anyway . you GET IT. you GET IT! ! ! ! angel of small death was the first König drabble I ever did, and I still plan on returning to it!!! This is exactly the sort of dynamic I wanted to put in AAAAAAAAA I'm in love!! König sabotaging his damn self...yea we gotta make this man squirm. I will write these ideas for you babe but if you ever do feel a little bit of that writing era overlap coming on I will be the first in line to read what you've got stored in that brilliant brain 👀
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allamericanb-tch · 1 month
Text
crimson rivers thoughts (8)
@tastetherainbow290 do you still want to be tagged in these?
chapter 15
oh. my.
regulus ❤️‍🩹
evan “on three or after three” rosier (he is so me)
“i don’t think i’ll be able to walk” really james? i thought you had two working legs.
james now is NOT the time to flirt
i’ve never stepped in a bear trap before and now i never want to
regulus threatening sirius’ hair. yeah he would
i love evan and james friendship
“i don’t want them to change you” regulus 💔
nooo a problem
nooo regulus don’t leave him
KISS ALREADY come on.
ok forehead kiss i see you
“a parting gift” tears. crying. my heart is shattered. why did you have to make this sad.
not them both leaving james behind
james pov. ugh why is this so sad
wow regulus again ok. i mean james is just sitting in a cave so this makes sense
oh no. where did mulciber go.
WHAT
WAIT
WHAT
EVAN
NO
wait guys im actually crying
“i think you two would’ve gotten on well” yeah. rip evan rosier you would have loved barty crouch jr
sirius pov now…
oh my god i am c r y i n g
“hallow is hollow.” BANGER
oh no. please mulciber do not find james.
and just like that its over. omg.
@gardenofrunar how could you tell me to read another knowing what happens ☹️
chapter 16
and he’s found james. lovely.
i love that when anyone refers to james or regulus as the other’s boyfriend they both just go with it
poor james. he is too soft for all of it.
oh they’re fighting
i know james lives but i still am worried for him
james resorting to throwing dirt 💀
james relentlessly beating mulciber with the hatchet after the cannon sounds
rip mulciber you will not be missed
jegulus reunited once more
james is awake again!! 
no don’t talk about evan im gonna cry again
yeah. crying.
remus pov!
remus dating standards 💀 he’s so real honestly
“I'll show you yours if you show me mine." thank the lord for comic relief
effie and monty mention ❤️
remus opening up to sirius
i swear they’re always like “i want to kiss” and then they don’t??
ok im so curious what did remus do
chapter 17
author says they’re excited for this chapter… should i be scared
update i was going to wait until i read this chapter to post but i decided to post anyway
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