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#i don’t even be running my mouth with them
luveline · 2 days
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how’re eddie and roan doing??🫶🏻
(step)mom!reader, 2k
Sometimes you know you’re not good enough for Eddie and his daughter.
It’s a pinprick pain in the same place. The tiniest fear turned to heat.
“I’m gonna get you!” he warns.
“No, you’re not!” Roan stands at the other side of the room. With the door at her father’s back, she has no proof to substantiate her claim, but she makes it anyway. “You’re slow!”
You sit on the end of the bed with one leg hanging off, a socked foot brushing the carpet. Your legs are aching and the bottom of your spine feels bruised, so you aren’t joining in tonight. You watch them glare and giggle at one another.
Your head hurts between your eyes.
Eddie makes a ‘scary’ face and runs across the room to grab her. She squeals in terrified delight and races for the bed, climbing up behind you and over it, swapping places with him easily, or so she thinks. She’s slower than he is, and can’t escape his grabbing hands as he leaps for her on your bed, flattening your stepdaughter into a pancake.
“No, no,” she laughs beneath him.
Eddie braces his arms either side of her. “I told you’d I’d get you,” he says in a menacing voice, like a character from a movie, he can do a hundred different impressions. “You’ve stolen your last Twinkie, child. Be prepared for retribution.”
“I hate retribution!” she shouts.
Eddie laughs like a kid. “You’ll have to learn to love it.”
He grabs the end of her shirt, tugs it up, and drops his face into her stomach to grow the world's most aggressive raspberry. Roan screams the house down, laughing and shrieking as the vibrations tickle her skin. Eddie takes another big breath, lets it out against her bellybutton, even as Roan’s knees come up and jab him in the arm. “Dad, oh my gosh, stop!”
He stops. “You surrender?”
“No.” A third huge raspberry gets pressed into her tummy.
“Give up,” he sing-songs, “you know you can’t defeat me, little Munson.”
“Y/N, please help me,” Roan says, half crawling under Eddie’s weight to grab your arm. “Please save me.”
Your smile is two shades off, but she doesn’t notice, and you wouldn’t want her to. “I can’t, princess, only a knight can save you now.”
Eddie blows a raspberry on her tummy, then her neck. She hates that even more than the tummy ones and flings herself out of his arms with breathless laughter, the urgency of knowing you’re going to be killed by such horrible, painful, excruciating affection. “You,” she says, taking deep breaths as she slinks down onto the floor, “are the worse dad. Ever.” She laughs like taffy. “I’m listening to my body and it says I need some soda.”
“You can have a capri sun,” Eddie says firmly.
She rushes away, runs down the stairs, and it’s all Eddie can do to constrain his usual warning, you can tell. “She’s gonna fall down them,” he says, batting the hair out of his eyes, “and then what will I do?”
You smile weakly. “I don’t know, teddy. Guess we’d have to roll her around in a wheelbarrow for a bit.”
He clambers onto his knees beside you. A spiral curl falls into his eyes. Everybody’s pretty when they smile but Eddie’s a heartbreak when he’s upset, when the corner of his mouth twitches wanting to pull down and his eyes lose their mirth. “Hey, what’s wrong?” With a little more pep, “Are you tired? Hungry?”
“Sorry.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t accept it.” His hand hesitates by your leg. “What’s not okay?”
You shake your head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He’s prettier than you are, with a better heart. He’s a great father and you’re a shitty mom. You have less practice than he has, sure, but you can’t do anything right for Roan lately, you mess up her lunch and forget to buy her yoghurts when you’re coming home even though Eddie called you twice to make sure you got them. He didn’t even get mad. If he asks you one more time what’s wrong, you’re gonna burst into tears.
He doesn’t ask.
Eddie wraps an arm heavily over the back of your shoulders and neck. The other vys for your hand in your lap, his knuckles brushing against your thigh. “You’re not feeling up to it, is that what it is? Maybe you’re tired,” he suggests, with all his usual tenderness. You’re struck with a memory of him when you’d first started dating, how awkward he could be and how he’d shoved it aside when you had one of your worst days at work. He’d surprised you outside, Roan waiting in his backseat, promising to take you home and make you a home cooked meal. You’d eaten it under his arm like this.
There were moments before you’d been his girlfriend where you worried he wasn’t gonna let you have him. That he wasn’t gonna want you, that you’d move on from each other and have to pretend it never happened. But he’s whispering in your ear, hand latched onto your arm and rubbing circles into the tired muscle there without thought. “You can tell me anything,” he’s saying, “you know you can, just tell me what’s bothering you, don’t like it when you’re quiet…”
“Just had a bad day,” you say, tight and squeezed, so clearly evident that you’re gonna cry.
“At work?”
“All day.”
“Why? What’s bad?” he asks.
Nothing, you think, nothing’s bad, nothing is different than usual, but you feel awful. Like your hearts trying to invert itself in your chest, an upset with notes of panic.
“You know what I think it is?” he asks when you don’t answer, his demeanour dipping further and further into tenderness. “I think you didn’t eat enough at dinner, and you didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now you could use a shower and a hug and maybe a little time to yourself. When was the last time you had an hour for you?”
Your eyes crinkle tightly, your mouth twists. You get that weird rush of tingles all over your face and the heat of collecting tears. “It’s not like that,” you insist. “I love you, I don’t want time away from you, I swear.”
“I don’t want time away from you.” He kisses your cheek, twice, a third time, each one with more pressure than the kiss before. “I just mean… I don’t know, baby, I just thought you might be dealing with a lot.”
The worst thing bursts out of you, because you need him to tell you it’s not true. “I’m such a bad mom.”
The crying is unfortunate and immediate, your shoulders seizing under his arm. Eddie could tell it was coming, you’re sure, he doesn’t baulk, he never does.
“You’re not a bad mom, you’re a great mom,” he says, followed by a great wave of shushing.
“I’m awful, I’m supposed to be so much better, I can’t even remember her snacks.”
“Snacks are a really huge part of being a mom,” he says, “but she doesn’t care. She forgave you the moment you said sorry. You think she cares about her yoghurts? That’s not why she sits there waiting everyday after school, is it?”
“You asked me to get them and I forgot.”
“Well, should we call the cops now or later?”
“Eddie.”
He ushers your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t done anything that would make you a bad mom.”
You’re not Roan’s natural mother, you didn’t carry her, and so you find yourself in a privileged position. She treats you as she would a mom, she calls you mommy every day. You’re still letting her down.
“I love you, and Ro, and I wouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t love her, but you know… you really– you give more effort than we ever asked you to. You’re amazing. I never could have imagined getting to be with someone I love, and who loves my girl like she’s their own.” His murmuring takes the wryness of someone who knows what they’re saying is immeasurably corny, and he doesn’t stop. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is, but I do.”
“She deserves more.”
“She deserves you. You love her.”
You scrub your face, hiding from him behind your fingers. He waits in the quiet, now rubbing your back in large passes of his hand.
“Is that the only thing that’s making you like this?”
“I just feel like… everything I do, I could do better. Everything. And lately I feel so ugly. I thought this stuff would go away,” you confess, letting your hands fall away.
“I don’t think worrying ever goes away. Everybody worries about something.”
He ushers you back, the arm that warmed your shoulders dropping, his hand reaching instead for your face. He thumbs at tearstains and your damp top lip. “Please don’t cry,” he says, “you’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re killer, you always have been, but it’s my fault you don’t know that. I don’t tell you enough.”
He must tell you everyday, some days he tells you ten times or more. Still, it’s nice to have him say it, to place the blame of your insecurities on him, to try and make it his problem and not yours. It’s extremely loving, if extremely untrue.
“Sorry, Eddie. I think you’re right. Think I need to sleep, and, I don’t know. Stop feeling sorry for myself.” You smile weakly.
“I don’t think that’s what it is. If you need me to tell you what I think about you to feel better, I’ll do it every hour of the day.” He beams at you. “I hate when you cry.”
You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”
“No– No, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t make me an asshole. I’m happy to see you smile again.”
“You give a good pep talk.”
“Can I give you a kiss now, is that alright?”
“If you stop being so nice after.”
Eddie turns his face and kisses you soundly. His hand climbs to your neck, his index finger draws a short, light line up your throat as his lips move against yours, and curls into itself as he pulled away to stroke gently under your chin. Then he gives you a shove, forcing you to lay down.
“Cheer up, dummy. You’re a great mom and you’re gonna be the best wife. Chill out.”
You catch one of his mean hands to hold to your tummy.
He sits there with you for ages. Five minutes turns to ten, then ten to fifteen, nothing else said, but his hand unmoving where you’ve put it.
“Ro!” he calls eventually. “Where’d you go, bub? Are you okay?”
Her mouth is obviously full when she calls back, “I’m okay!”
“That rascal is eating my Twinkies,” he says.
“Go stop her,” you say, pinching his fingers between yours playfully, softly, one at a time.
“We’re having time to ourselves.”
“I don’t need time away from her.”
“I know. But you need time to lay down without somebody bugging you to play, or watch her do a handstand. She’ll come back as soon as she’s hid the evidence, anyways.” He rolls his eyes. “Like I won’t notice.”
You crawl towards him and curl around him, locking him in place. “Thank you for looking after me.”
“It’s literally my favourite thing to do.”
Your front to his back where he’s sitting, your face against the back of his hip, you kiss his t-shirt. He makes a soft sound, breathing out, his hands covering your arm where you’ve hooked him at the waist.
more eddie, roan and reader
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 days
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They overhear you telling the team how much you like them and want to have their babies.
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ANON! The way I screamed when I first read this prompt. I love shit like this because o-m-g. I had so much fun writing our boys in this scenario. Thank you so much for sending it in!
While there are some sweeter moments, these all lean toward the steamy side but don't cross over fully into spice. But, each is left open enough that you can make up your own mind about what happens! (hehe).
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): mild language, suggestive themes, pregnancy, fluff, feelings
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish (wc: 651)
John is grinning like a bloody idiot. Has been for the last few days.
He’s caught your attention, and he’s downright smug about it. Every lingering glance and gentle upturn of your mouth has his skin singing with an intensity that can only be described as a tree burning from the inside out. He’s been after you for months, doing his best to gauge your interest in him.
He thinks he has an in because just yesterday, you touched him. Not a passing touch either but a firm grasp of his upper arm. A squeeze that shot heat straight to his toes and sent blood rushing quickly to an already throbbing need.
You looked him in the eye, brow all soft, mouth puckered slightly in the most gorgeous pout. John wanted to kiss you right then.
He turns the corner, heading into the training room, only to stop dead when he hears your voice. Pausing, he backtracks, pressing himself against the wall but leaning around the corner to listen in.
“Johnny’s been sweet on you,” comes Ghost’s voice. It’s slightly teasing, and John frowns slightly. Ghost would never overstep and steal you out from under him, but he would give him or even you a hard time.
“Has he?” you reply, and it’s breathy.
At this rate, his cheeks are gonna hurt for a week from how stupidly big his grin is.
“Don’t tell us you haven’t noticed,” laughs Gaz. “Soap’s been drooling all over the floor and himself.”
You remain silent, and John would give anything to know what you look like right now or what you’re thinking.
“Do you like him?” asks Ghost.
“What?” you exclaim.
“We won’t tell. Unless you want us to,” continues Gaz. “We can tell him to back off if—”
“No. I—” There is a stretch of silence. “I like him.”
When neither Gaz nor Ghost say anything, you keep talking. “I like him. I’m interested.”
“How interested?” asks Ghost, slowly.
“I’d have his babies if he asked,” you blurt so suddenly that it even takes John by surprise.
His grin momentarily slips away, and then it comes back, raging larger than before. He is going to bottle up those words and savor them. John runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the tips slightly as he comes to a decision.
Pushing off from the wall, he barrels around the corner, making enough noise to not startle anyone. You and Gaz both jump but Ghost remains utterly still, a passive brick of a man. But his dark eyes swivel from you to John, and he sees Ghost’s amusement behind the balaclava.
John approaches you, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep his grin from seeming too eager. “Price is looking for you.”
“Oh,” is all you say, moving in the direction John just emerged from. He waits until you pass him to start following, but before he can, he catches Gaz’s grin and Ghost’s gentle shake of his head.
When the two of you disappear around the corner, John reaches out, grabbing your arm. He tugs you against him, then shoves open a nearby door, hauling you inside.
“Johnny,” you protest as he shuts the two of you inside.
Leaning against the door, John crosses his arms over his chest. “Heard what you said.”
“Did you?” you counter, placing your hands on your hips.
“Aye.”
“And what did I say?”
“That you wanted to have my babies.” Your face heats and John has to bite back a groan. He surges forward, trapping you against the wall. “Is that the truth? Do you want me?”
You soften in his arms, and he cannot help himself. His arms snake around your middle only to lift you onto a nearby table.
“I want you,” you whisper.
John dips his head and you greet him with your mouth. “Then let’s get to it, love.”
John Price (wc: 420)
Price reclines in his office chair.
His mind is a mess. All thoughts of work are utterly gone. Finished. The only thing in his head is you and what you said this morning. The thing is, you don’t know that Price heard every word, that he listened as you confessed your feelings for him to the rest of the team.
Price is your superior, which means anything between the two of you cannot happen. At least, not while you’re under his command. The rest of the team said as much, and you reluctantly agreed, knowing that nothing could be done unless you or he moved out of the unit.
And Price won’t leave. Not because he wouldn’t do it for you, but because Laswell would have his head if he tried.
But the two of you can still talk. The two of you can still figure something out.
Yet it wasn’t just your interest in him that has Price’s head in knots. It’s what you said, almost absently, like you were speaking to the air and not the rest of the team.
I’d have his babies.
Fuck, he was gone when he heard that. Price walked away immediately and went to his office. Which is where he’s been the entire fucking day. When his phone rings, he refuses to answer. Everyone who has come knocking leaves when Price ignores them. He just needs to get his head on straight but he can only do that once he talks to you first.
Sighing, Price leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. A knock comes, and everything in him tenses.
He swallows. Turns his nerves to steel. "Come in."
When you enter, Price loses all thought. It isn't until the silence becomes awkward that Price clears his throat and stands. "Shut the door."
You do and then take a few more steps inside. Price isn't one for stepping around a conversation. He just needs to get this shit off his chest.
"Heard what you said this morning."
"You did?"
"I did."
You take a shaky breath. "And?"
"Did you mean it?"
'Every word," you say automatically.
Fuck. He's done for.
Price slowly sinks into his chair. He leans back casually, legs spread. Resting both hands on his thighs, Price runs them up and then back down. He taps the inside of one thigh in open invitation.
Your legs obediently move, and Price's chest tightens. As you straddle him, Price's hands come to rest on your waist.
"Show me."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (wc: 309)
Kyle heard you wrong. He must have.
The words that just came out of your mouth simply aren’t true.
I want to have his babies.
He shakes his head, the middle of his brow furrowing slightly as he continues to listen. He hears Soap guffaw at your reply and then swear up a storm when you smack the back of his head.
“It’s not funny,” you snap.
“Oh, aye. But it is.”
“Cut her some slack, Johnny,” says Ghost teasingly. “Sergeant Garrick is a handsome man.”
You sigh in frustration. “You’re both terrible. I can’t tell you anything.”
“You just did.”
“Oh shove it, Soap,” you reply.
Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, smothering a laugh. You’ve always been feisty, and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially not from them. But this admission completely catches him off-guard.
He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t interested. What first began as mutual respect grew into genuine friendship. Now it’s…this. Whatever this is.
But Kyle is a private person, and he’s not going to shove himself into this conversation. He’ll wait until you’re alone and the two of you can talk this out without an audience. From there, he will have the truth directly from your mouth.
And if he's being honest with himself, Kyle is fucking ace to the idea of you giving him a kid or two. Or three.
His mind swirls outward with images of what he’d do to put a baby inside you. Everything in him ramps up, burns hot until he’s aching.
“Sergeant.”
Kyle’s eyes snap open, and he momentarily sways as he rights himself.
“Captain,” he replies, clearing his throat.
Captain Price smirks and then squeezes his shoulder. “Must have been a hell of a daydream.” Price releases Kyle’s shoulder and continues on.
Privacy. Privacy with you.
That’s what Kyle needs.
Simon "Ghost" Riley (wc: 375)
Ghost is a patient man.
But right now, there is a fire beneath his skin.
It itches, radiating outward, even making his bones ache. This is not a wound. Not an injury. He didn’t take a hit. There is nothing physically wrong with him. Ghost is healthy. A solid brick wall of muscle and scars.
This impatient insistence comes from a carnal place. All the blood is rushing to a singular point, and Ghost is going fucking insane with how badly he needs to relieve it. The worst part about it is that you don’t even know. You have no idea what you’ve done, or what he heard.
I’d have his babies.
Ghost is entirely aware that the conversation you had with Soap and Gaz was private. He wasn’t meant to hear it. But he did. He did, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the things you said to them.
Which is why he’s lurking in the shadows, watching your every step, assessing when he should slide on up to you. Ghost needs you alone. He needs to talk but he also needs you in his lap.
So, when you turn the corner, Ghost slips into his namesake, grabbing you by the waist to haul you through the nearest door. Instinct kicks in, and you lash out, but Ghost is so much bigger than you, easily restraining all resistance.
"Stop moving."
"Simon."
His real name on your tongue is perfect. Pressing his face into your neck, he inhales, and you melt into him.
"What are you doing?" you ask softly.
"I heard the conversation you had with Johnny and Gaz today."
"Did you?"
"Is it true?"
Your face shifts slightly in his direction and Ghost draws back a bit. "Yes."
"Mean it?"
"Yes."
Slowly, Ghost removes his arms from around your waist. He gently guides you forward and then spins you around so that you're fully facing him. There is silence and then Ghost reaches for the front of his belt buckle. Your gaze immediately drops and then pops back up as undoes and then removes the belt with one hand.
"Willing to show me?" he asks.
Your lips part, and then you're touching him.
The fire beneath his skin becomes an inferno.
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lexirosewrites · 1 day
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In honor of nurse appreciation week…
Instead of ‘Eddie gets a toy stuck in him and Steve helps him get it out,’ what about alpha Eddie picks out the wrong size of ‘pocket omega,’ so his knot gets stuck and he goes to the ER?
Omega nurse Steve is both horrified and impressed.
He wants to just get out the sterile scissors and start working at cutting away the rubbery toy piece by piece, but he can’t help the lecture that starts to slip out too.
Who can blame him? He is a nurse after all.
“You have to be more careful next time. You can really constrict the blood flow with these things if you’re not careful!”
Eddie’s face somehow gets even more flushed and he mumbles something, not making eye contact when he does.
“Sorry?” Steve asks, ready to admonish him for whatever excuse he has for buying the wrong size. “What was that?”
Some alphas just think ‘smaller is better’ and Steve knows that’s bullshit.
To believe otherwise is just antiquated and juvenile alpha-brained thinking.
Eddie clears his throat, finally looking at Steve directly when he explains sheepishly, “I got the biggest size I could find. It’s just… my knot is kinda huge.”
Steve whimpers a little at that, clamping his legs together tightly at the thought of such a large knot filling him.
“O-oh.”
He’s glad he wasn’t holding the scissors.
“Yeah, it’s kind of an awful problem to have,” the alpha admits as Steve tries to get a hold of himself and do his job like a professional.
His mouth might be watering now.
“No! I mean- uh, I’m sure there are plenty of omegas who would be willing to- that- that is to say- um…”
He can’t think of anything but big knots and being filled with them.
Eddie chuckles, scratching at the back of his neck.
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about it, sweetheart. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here for the same stupid problem. This company just advertised carrying a size big enough to accommodate any knot and I believed them.”
Steve is going to cum in his fucking scrub pants like some slutty omega who can’t control themselves.
If Eddie’s telling the truth (and Steve’s inclined to believe him, especially since the proof is almost in front of him), then Steve’s never going to stop thinking about it.
He makes the last few cuts, finally able to pull the mangled toy off his patient’s swollen cock and behold the goddamn ‘Mona Lisa’ of alpha knots resting in his unworthy hands.
Jesus Christ.
It’s one thing for Eddie to say he’s been blessed in this particular area and it’s another for Steve to see it with his own eyes.
(and hold it)
“Oh good, it deflated a bit,” Eddie states with relief.
Huh.
“It… went down? This isn’t your full knot?” Steve wheezes out.
The alpha’s timid smile turns into something closer to a smirk, almost like he’s proud now.
“I mean, you can find out if you keep stroking it like that.”
Steve looks down, horrified to find that he was indeed running his hands along Eddie’s cock like some sort of trophy in need of polishing.
“I am so sorry! I don’t know what’s come over me. This is beyond inappropriate. I’m sure you’re ready to go home and forget all of this!”
Eddie clicks his tongue thoughtfully, keeping Steve practically on the edge of his seat in anticipation.
“While I could do without the ER bill, I think I can justify the visit if I leave with an actual omega. Maybe even one who’s a bit of a size queen?” he suggests coyly.
Steve gapes at the sheer boldness.
“How- uh, why would you assume that?” he flusters, the room feeling much smaller suddenly.
Eddie raises an eyebrow.
Steve raises one back.
The alpha doesn’t break eye contact, reaching down to wrap his hand around Steve’s, giving it a light squeeze.
“Might have something to do with the fact that you still haven’t let go of my knot, baby,” Eddie purrs, leaning in closer so his warm breath tickles Steve’s face. “Or maybe it’s that fucking puddle underneath you that’s getting worse by the minute. You’re dripping for my knot.”
He is.
Steve can hardly breathe, every inhale giving him a mouthful of heady alpha hormones.
Despite the scent neutralizers pumped out into the hospital air and the patch stuck on Steve’s own scent gland, he’s fucking enraptured by the smell.
His hand twitches, tightening.
Steve can’t help but blurt out, “My pussy can take it. I fuck myself open on the biggest fake alpha cocks I can find every night, but they’re never enough. They’ve- they’ve never been—”
He swallows, trying not to choke on his own drool building up in his mouth from ust.
Eddie presses his lips right up against Steve’s ear, letting them brush his skin when he whispers, “Yeah, sweetheart? They’ve never been… what?”
The alpha’s other hand drifts between Steve’s legs, pushing down the front of his pants and finding his arousal evident there.
Steve whines pathetically at the feeling of Eddie’s searching fingers running through the slick on his flushed skin.
“They’ve never been as big as you are, alpha,” he confesses, breaking every last ounce of willpower and giving in to his needs completely.
“What do you want, omega?” Eddie asks, trailing kisses behind his ear and down his neck. “What do you need from me?”
“I- I need…” Steve keens loudly as a wet kiss is pressed directly to his mating gland. “Your knot splitting me open like I’m just a toy.”
Eddie smiles.
“You are my toy.”
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 2 days
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Ruin My Reputation
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pairing : cooper howard (the ghoul) x (fem) reader
summary : he’s soft for you
warnings : blood, drug use kinda, talk of shooting
a/n : just something short and sweet so the fallout brainrot subsides.
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“You know damn well I hate when you show up like this.” You let your medical supplies clatter onto the table where the ghoul sits, waiting like a hurt dog. Eyes awfully resemblant of the animal.
It’s likely that the only reason he’s here, looking this run down, is cause he’s got no vials left. If you knew better, you’d hide yours. Or better yet, get rid of them all together.
“Now c’mon darlin’,” he pauses to sputter out a cough and take a deep breath, “I thought you loved seeing me.” Shakily, he grabs his hat off his head and places it on the table.
“I love you a whole lot more when I don’t have to worry about you showing up at my doorstep on the brink of death you old..” Your words trail off and whatever insult you were ready to throw at him is taken away by the stream of air you let slip past your lips.
“I told you to quit your worryin’, I ain’t gonna die on ‘ya.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you suppose it is you’re doing right now?”
“Well if you’d quit your yappin’ and get to fixin’ I’d be doing a whole lot better, wouldn’t I?” He offers an unwelcome smile, which disappears when he winces in his pain. You hand him a vial of his favorite yellow liquid before you get to unbuttoning his shirt. After downing the vial he opens his mouth again but you're quick to cast your eyes his way.
“Looks like I didn’t need your medical attention after all, huh? ‘S a damn shame.”
“Mhm, waste of my time. Well then, I’ll cut right to it, thought I told ‘ya not to come around anymore after the last time.” Your voice trails off as you disappear to the back room to grab him a shirt that isn’t littered with holes and dirt and a shit ton of blood. Most of which probably isn't even his. And he follows behind, limping, like he’s in a trance and can’t help himself.
You hear a grunt from the other room as you rummage through a small storage box of his discarded things. Anything he left over the months he had been making himself a frequent quest in your home was in this box. You wanted to burn it. All of it. Use those little bottles of yellow liquid as a fire starter and make him watch while you did it. But anytime you tried, you couldn’t actually bring yourself to part with the tiny symbols of his presence.
“We both know you didn’t mean that,” he appears in the doorway behind you, blocking your exit, “besides I always come to my girl for help when things get rough. She's got all the good chems.”
You throw the shirt into his arms, a bit harder than intended, but he catches it with the reflexes of a man who kills for a living. Because, well, he does. You’re not sure why but every comment is making you angrier about him being there. A chem stash, huh? That’s all he thought of you?
“I wish you wouldn’t. I ain’t got time to sit around and tend to you, wait for you to get all better and leave again.”
The shirt now hangs on his body loosely, buttons open, “Now what’s got you so sour tonight. Usually you're a lot kinder to little ol’ me.” He leans against the doorframe
“Maybe the fact that I’ve got a half dead cowboy making himself comfy in my home every two weeks doesn’t sit well with me. You ever think about that before you kick your dirty boots off on my carpet?” You pause to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, “Oh, which reminds me, you owe me a new carpet.”
“What’re you talking about, woman?”
“You got blood on my carpet.”
“It was already covered in blood and dirt anyway!”
“Well, you got more on it. I liked how it was. So now you owe me a new one.”
“Are you hearing yourself? Where would you like me to go for said carpet? Anything I find you is gonna look exactly the same as the one already sitting on your goddamn floor!” He moves in slowly, cautiously like he’s practiced the art a million times. “Now I know you’re not worried about that piece of fabric out there. What is the problem?”
He swoops in close, close enough to wrap his arms around your waist with his hands clasped together at the dip in your back. You don’t push him away, though you want to. Although, all you think about is how your gun is sitting merely 5 inches away on the end table beside you. You could shoot him, if you wanted. But you probably won't.
Cooper’s eyes find your avoidant ones, the rough pads of his fingers grabbing at your chin to make you look at him. He’d never raise his full hand to you, smart man. God knows you’d think he was moving in to slap you, and his hand would be gone before he could yell ‘yeehaw’.
“You know damn well that I worry about you Coop.” Your arm finds his forearm, tugging his hand away from your face, “I just want you to stay for once, so I won't have to worry about you dying in the middle of the wasteland somewhere.” His hands find the dip in your back again, running along your skin until they rest on your hips.
“Hey now, you know I can’t stay, I got business to take care of out there.”
“Yeah, it’s always business. Always. Well you know what, so do I. So go on and get ‘fore I shoot yer sorry ass.” You step away from him, pushing him out of your way but his hands are quick to find your hips again and pull you back to him. Works like magnets.
“Now you're just being dramatic.. Alright alright, if you ask me nicely I’ll stay for a little longer than usual.”
You stare at him, eyebrows flexed in annoyance but the rest of your face has seemingly cooled down. You don’t need to say anything, he’s already agreed. He looks down at you with a soft smirk, thumbs rubbing into your hip bones.
“You are the easiest woman to please in the whole wasteland.” You feel your eyebrows relax as one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek in his rough palm. His lips part, gazing at you with deep adoration.
“Think you’re making me go soft darlin’, gonna ruin my damn reputation.”
199 notes · View notes
starseungs · 16 hours
Text
take a shot. ksm.
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kim seungmin x fem!reader — it really shouldn't take a genius to figure out that you and your co-star didn't get along. you knew kim seungmin. you knew how life functioned despite the cameras. and you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.
genre/s — drama, angst, fluff, a sprinkle of comedy, actors au, enemies to lovers, slowburn • 19.4k words
warning/s — y/n gets referred to with she/her pronouns, profanity, implied death taken lightly (humor purposes), miscommunication to too much communication, y/n easily gets into a bad headspace, inaccurate depictions of filming a movie, the angst is strong = the fluff is strong, other idols are mentioned as characters along with skz members, mentions of alcohol in a scene
note — my longest fic yet !! it also took me so long to finish this (like three weeks i believe) and there were some struggles that happened in the making of this, but it turned out to be my most favorite work ive done ever. thank you for the people who patiently waited for this since the teaser, and remember that reblogs & feedbacks are greatly appreciated 🫶 i hope you enjoy the read !!
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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00 : ZERO.
“I’m sorry, what?”
The car remained silent despite your words of confusion. You felt as though your world had come to an extreme halt, giving you a whiplash as the buzz of the road outside continued to pierce through your ears. There was nothing else to keep your mind away from the absolute bomb of news that was just given to you; your manager had turned it down before uttering the horrid sentence that brought your untimely demise.
The car may have kept on with its task of moving forward—but you were stuck frozen in place.
“You’re joking.”
Your world fell on seemingly deaf ears. The man up front, steering the wheel, rendered himself mute to your growing distress, finding the busy traffic of city life interesting enough to keep his eyes glued. But the urban chaos didn’t distract you one bit from brewing a storm of gunpowder inside your throat.
And just like that, a ghost of a click was heard.
“No—please tell me you’re joking,” you voiced out, tone betraying your attempts at keeping things respectful. It soon came to your attention that the effort was of no use, as your manager still chose to keep his peace. “Changbin!”
The car swiveled a bit off-lane for a second before returning to its correct course. Normally, such an abrupt action by a vehicle would concern you, as you would argue that you were still much too young to suffer at the hands of a road accident, but no such thoughts even made their way into your brain. Just like how time had stopped for you, there was no time for debating over survival either. One life-or-death situation was already enough for you.
You wanted answers, and you were going to get them.
Changbin exhaled audibly from the scare he just put both of you through. His hands shook with a slight tremor, and that was all it took for him to decide that pulling over to the nearest parking area was for the best.
“Don’t yell in the car like that!” You scoffed at his scolding, finding the whole situation ironic.
“Oh, so you can do it all the time, but I can’t?” You shot back. Changbin sighed tiredly, finally registering the extent of your agitation. "Plus, I have a perfectly good reason why I’m yelling!”
“Listen, Y/N, it’s really not that bad—”
“Yes, it is that bad!” The words spill out of your mouth in utter disbelief at his attempts at assurance. “I’m working with Kim Seungmin, of all people!”
“And that’s why it’d be fine!” Changbin argued, running a hand through his already tousled hair. You blinked at his reply, baffled by the sheer implication.
“—How?”
Changbin clicked his tongue at the question, finding it hard to digest just why you were so against working with the mentioned actor. With the mere sound of that actor’s name spat out of your mouth, one would think that he had somehow managed to offend your entire bloodline. But that kind of bitterness could only be achieved through a sour history, so you really couldn’t empathize with your manager’s mindset either.
Even you knew that this movie would be enormously successful from the director alone. Director Han Jisung’s influence and presence in the industry were not a laughing matter—in fact, you should already be trembling in anxiety just knowing that you snagged probably the biggest role you’d ever get in your whole career. He was only around the same age as you, but the winding list of his achievements was already one for the records. And yet, here you were rethinking your contract with him even before the project started.
Just because of who you were going to be acting alongside with.
“Seungmin is a nice person,” Changbin explained gently like he was coaxing a child, intentionally ignoring the way your face scrunched up at what he said. “I did my research, ok? Everyone only has high praises for him, both on and off-set. Isn’t that enough to be trusted?”
You bit your tongue to stop yourself from digging a deeper hole to lie in. The answer was no—it wasn’t enough to be trusted. Now, at this point, someone would’ve had half a mind to ask why you were so sure about your vendetta against the man. If a person was so well loved in a world where cameras were pointed at them in every waking minute, then shouldn’t all the dirt be found by now, if there was any?
To that, your answer would be yet another no.
Because you knew Kim Seungmin. You knew how life functioned despite the cameras. And you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.
“Turn the car around.”
Changbin’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets at your demand. Surely, he had heard you now. You crossed your arms and leaned back to rest comfortably on the car seat, turning your head to face the window and glare at the world outside, continuing on with their lives like a well-followed routine.
“Y/N, this is a big opportunity—”
“I said, turn the car around. I’m not attending this cursed table reading.” You pinched the bridge of your nose to keep the incoming migraine at bay.
“You really think I’ll willingly step into a room with the devil’s incarnate? I’d rather get shot—”
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01 : ONE.
“—sensing a great shot!”
Director Han Jisung nodded positively at your performance, satisfied with your initial portrayal of the female lead.
“If we keep going like this, then I’m expecting this project to be a big hit. The casting team really did their pay’s worth on this one,” the young director hummed. “Especially you, Actor Kim Seungmin. I don’t know how they managed to get through your company's walls, but I’m glad they did. You’re perfect for the role!”
You felt your eye twitch as the figure bearing the name appeared within your vision. His mouth curled up into an arrogant smirk, hastily covered up by a bashful smile. You cringed at his actions that only you seemed to see. Why was this prick acting all humble?
“Ah, I always wanted to act in one of your films, Director Han. This is more of an amazing opportunity for me than you, honestly.”
That smoothed honey voice wrapped itself around the room’s premise, charming everyone around like it was coming from an alluring siren. All except you.
Your mouth filled with a coating of spite as his next sentence echoed through your ears. His eyes locked you in as a target, a wordless challenge shooting straight at your own.
“Plus, seeing who my co-star is, I’m quite thrilled to see the end product,” Seungmin grinned with a manic glint.
Fuck. You should’ve turned that damned car around yourself. Maybe then you’d be enjoying a relaxing time in the tub, surrounded by bubbling suds of fragrant soap, instead of being a frontliner in this mental war your acting counterpart seemed to subject yourselves to. Now, you had to withstand the feeling of your body instantly going on auto-pilot after his words.
It was commendable, really—how Seungmin could take over a space of this size filled with various types of people so easily. He had major talent in that field, which greatly accentuated his acting power. Seungmin had a way with words, and while you would never be caught praising him out loud, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth deep inside the darkest parts of your brain. It was almost obsessive, the way your mind zeroed in on his presence. Even as you let the busy table chatter away into a buzzing noise that barely made its way coherently through your ears, your eyes stayed glued to the figure in front of you, carefully studying his mannerisms as he enthusiastically interacted with everyone. You weren’t someone who Seungmin’s charms would work on—instead, you felt like prey, waiting to be pounced on any second now.
Before you knew it, the table reading came to a close. You could faintly remember standing and packing your things quietly, more focused on the sudden stinging feeling you felt coming from your eyes, already threatening to water. “This is ridiculous,” you huffed in frustration. Why did you feel the need to cry like a child at this very moment?
“With the way your script is being shoved in that tiny bag, yeah, I would say that too.”
“Leave me alone, Kim.”
You hear him chuckle, causing your grip on your leather bag’s opening to become tighter, feeling the metal zipper bite at your palm. “There’s a lot of Kims here, Y/N. Be careful now; they might mistake you for being rude to them,” he chirps. Fucking chirps. Like a small bird who deserves to be doted on. Except the man before you was neither small nor deserved to be doted on—Kim Seungmin would never be described in any of those words in your world.
“Right. Since they’re also talking to me right now,” you scoffed back. Thankfully, that seemed to keep the tears at bay for now. You refused to break down in front of the most infuriating man in your life.
“Still stuck up as ever,” he sighs. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at his comment. You? Stuck up? If anything, that would be him! “This would be our first piece together after that charity drama our acting academy did way back a few years ago, so would it kill you to be civil?”
Ah. There it was. The infamous acting academy.
JYP Academy of Theatrics was admittedly one of the most successful acting academies in the country, known for producing many big name acts throughout its years of operation. Every aspiring actor has probably gone through the phase of wanting to be part of the academy’s carefully limited population of trainees—you included.
You remember the first time you brought up your plans on becoming an actress to your parents; their apprehensive faces telling you to try going to an acting academy first before giving up everything and running towards your dream blind. Young you didn’t realize the underlying implication that your parents were expecting you to be discouraged and give up on your thoughts of becoming an actress for good. Instead, you aimed high with the thoughts of their support, confidently applying for JYP Academy.
To your parents’ surprise, you passed both rounds of the screening, becoming a full-fledged acting academy trainee at one of the most prestigious places for it. It was also where you met the thorn in your life that was standing before you at the present.
“And frankly, I’m looking forward to this. So can we not ruin the mood on set?” He had the nerve to add. That was all you needed for your last string of restraint to snap.
“Why? So you could enjoy the power trip of watching me fumble around like a headless chicken after getting scolded a thousand times for my horrible acting skills?”
“What?”
You watched as Seungmin’s face morphed from exhaustion into a look of confusion at what you had just said. However, you knew better than to give him the benefit of the doubt—so you continued to shoot your bullets at him.
“I know you, Kim Seungmin,” you motioned towards him. “Don’t you dare think I’ve forgotten your days at the acting academy, especially that damned charity drama. But consider yourself lucky, since I won’t drag your ass down this time, Golden Boy. In fact, watch me shine on set even if it’s against your will or whatever is going on in that ego of yours, because I refuse to bow down to you. Things may have been different seven years ago, but I’ve grown since then. So if you want to prove to me that you have to, then know how to keep your mouth to yourself around me.”
After your little round of firing the pent-up rage inside of you, you snatched your bag from the table and stormed out of the room without another word. You had half the mind to worry if anyone had heard your little squabble with Seungmin, but you were already too far down the hall to go back and check, risking a blow to your conscience if ever you tried to go back. You only had the fact that you had managed to keep your voice surprisingly low throughout the whole exchange to console you.
With this, you continued your trek towards the parking lot to meet your manager once again—blissfully unaware of the state in which you left your co-star back in the room.
“What the fuck just happened?”
It took everything in Seungmin to not march after you and demand an explanation for what you had just said to him. In all honesty, Seungmin was baffled. Out of all the possible scenarios he had imagined to happen when meeting you, this was definitely not one of them. Sure, you two weren’t exactly the best of friends way back in your academy years, but he had at least considered you an acquaintance.
Even then, he didn’t remember your relationship being this bad. For all the times the both of you clashed heads, he couldn’t recall a single time serious bad blood was developed. The memory of you laughing joyfully as he messed up a line in your shared scene together on a monthly evaluation was still fresh in his memories—so just where did this hostility come from? If he were to base his conclusion off your words earlier, then it must have something to do with the charity drama, and that only made Seungmin more lost.
What you said earlier did hold some truth to them—you were scolded a lot by their advisor, slash project director, but in no way did you do badly in the production. Seungmin could testify to that. After all, he was witness to the amount of praise you got from fellow trainees as they watched you act out your scenes on camera, even though his younger counterpart was jealous of all the positive feedback. So now, he really couldn’t understand where your deep-rooted bitterness towards him came from. He even gave you some tips during the times you seemingly struggled with their advisor’s vision!
“Seungmin?”
He turned over to where his name was just called, seeing his manager approach him while bowing politely towards the small number of production staff left in the room. “Oh, did I take too long, Minho?”
“Yeah, but it’s alright. I knew you were going to catch up with a friend,” Minho looked around for a bit before continuing, “Speaking of which, did she go already?” Seungmin couldn’t stop himself from clicking his tongue at his manager’s words.
“It’s a long story.”
Well, two can play that game. If you truly knew him like you said you did, then you would know that Kim Seungmin isn’t one to give up when he sets his mind to something.
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02 : TWO.
You wanted to give up right at this very moment.
Today was the first day of filming for the movie you were cast in as the female lead, yet here you were, one push away from having a mental breakdown. It was your first lead role—one that you had wished on countless stars to get ever since signing a contract with your current agency. Yet, now that you actually have it, you were left unsure of whether your acting could do proper justice to the character given to you. The confidence you flared towards Kim Seungmin a few days ago was nowhere to be found right now as anxious thoughts swirled through your head instead.
When you first read the script as one of your manager’s proposals for your next project, you instantly felt like the female lead’s role spoke to you the most. The plot itself was a masterpiece, clearly right up Director Han’s alley with its sentimental undertone and themes of self-discovery. It followed the male lead, returning back to his hometown for a high school reunion after just deciding to quit his job at a well-known corporation in the city. At the reunion, he meets the female lead, whom he remembers having the biggest crush on back in his teenage years—before he moved to the city for college.
In comparison, the female lead never left their homey countryside town. She attended the nearby community college and also settled her adult life in the same area. However, that didn’t mean that what she had achieved was all she wanted to do in life. Like everyone else, she too, had her own dreams. Unfortunately, she lacked confidence in herself to chase opportunities and got stuck right where her starting line was.
And in a way, she spoke to you.
You didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps you regret running your mouth like that at your co-star during the table read. It was a moment of weakness, you tried to tell yourself. Emotional you talked too big for what you could handle, so now you were left here to deal with the consequences of your actions.
But lies had their truths too.
It was true that you wanted to shine on set—outshining Kim Seungmin was just an added bonus to the thought. You’ve spent far too long in others’ shadows, never really feeling like you had the chance to show your fullest potential. That was something you fought for constantly, starting from your days at the academy up until the present, only to have no such luck. Maybe that was why you developed a habit of becoming pessimistic at the worst times, becoming your own enemy as you fall into a pit of self-sabotage, effectively going against everything you’ve ever wished for yourself. It was a cycle of keeping yourself confused with your own decisions, and it was a frustrating process.
You could only stare from the actors’ corner on the site as you watched the crew members run around making final arrangements for today’s shoot. Normally, you wouldn’t have seen this part of the process, as actors would often arrive later on when everything was nearly set, during their actual call time. You just intentionally went early, deciding that you weren’t going to get any more sleep even if you tried, seeing as most of the previous night was spent trying to make sure you had your lines all perfected. Sleep came rough yesterday, and you had no one else to blame but your own nerves.
At least the set looked great—today you were filming all the scenes needed for the high school reunion. The place was this quaint function hall in a small town about seven hours from the capital city, the same town you would be staying in to shoot for a little less than a week. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the new environment contributed more towards your slowly diminishing confidence, feeling yourself too far away from the strong presence of individualistic urban life. A defeated sigh was all you could do in attempt to ease yourself, even the slightest.
“I’m beginning to think this is going to become a pattern,” you hear a familiar toned voice comment. “Meeting you distressed, I mean.”
You spare the figure a half-hearted glance before rolling your eyes, forcing out an appropriate greeting. Or what was appropriate in your books, anyway.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Seungmin’s face displayed his feelings of amusement, which in turn made your frown deepen. “Not even a good afternoon? That’s harsh of you, Y/N,” he says in a tone made for mockery. “You really don’t like seeing my face, huh?”
“More like, I just don’t like you, period,” you grumbled in annoyance. “Also, why are you even here this early?”
Your surprise at his punctuality was real; you were not expecting to see him on set three hours early. But maybe you should have foreseen this behavior, seeing as the Seungmin you knew back then was also one to be on time during all lessons, activities, and practices. A part of you was then thankful for the question coming off as general because if you added any more comparisons, it would’ve seemed like you held on to too much information on him from the past.
“Just because I’m the main character doesn’t mean I should be fashionably late. Would it tick you off to know that I like being punctual with things?”
“Yeah,” was your immediate reply, not needing to think about it any further. “Since now, I have to time myself to arrive just before the call time.”
Seungmin lets out a deep sigh at your words. “You don’t want to spend any more time with me than necessary, got it.” He says, then lifting a finger up to tap against his ear. “But you know, you should really learn to keep your plans away from enemy ears.”
You tried your best not to show the inner war that just sparked inside of your head—you really shouldn’t have found that small gesture attractive, but the romantic side in you swooned so easily against your will. And for what? Kim Seungmin, of all people? You really should tone down all the enemies-to-lovers content you were consuming, because this was the last thing you wanted to happen. Real life just doesn’t play out like that.
Giving him some slack and perhaps a half-assed attempt at reverse psychology, you replied with a tired tone. “I’ll agree with you on that one, so you may walk away now, Kim.”
Except that Seungmin didn’t seem to catch the memo.
“Says the one who keeps talking,” he snarks at you. “For someone who told me to keep my mouth to myself around you, you’re the one who keeps the conversation flowing.”
You rolled your eyes for the second time since starting this conversation. At this point, you were convinced that Kim Seungmin was on a mission to dislocate it. “You just have to win everything, do you?”
“It’s my charm, I suppose.”
“And I disagree. The only charm you have is that mouth of yours you use to manipulate everyone around you.”
That seemed to snap something within Seungmin. “What the hell did I ever do to you?” He spits out furiously. “I would’ve already sued you for defamation if you acted like this around everyone else, so you should be thankful that I’m being tolerant of your attitude right now.”
“Thankful? Why would I be thankful?” Was your baffled response. “You know, I’m starting to believe that you don’t remember what you put me through all those years ago at all, and it’s only making me more upset that you seem to hold no remorse whatsoever.”
“If it’s that bad, then go ahead and tell me!” Seungmin hissed in an attempt to keep his voice down and not cause a scene. “I don’t have time for this roundabout game you have going on, and honestly, neither should you. We have a high-profile movie to film, and I would never let whatever this is ruin the hard work of a hundred people—so get your head out of your ass and either clench your teeth and save the working environment we have or be a dear and solve this issue with me right now.”
Now you were just barely containing your rage. It was at this point that you realized that Seungmin wasn’t faking anything; and that made it sting a lot more in your already scarred heart. Of course, someone like him wouldn’t understand why you were acting like this. Someone like him, born talented enough to be loved and praised by everyone, would never see the other side that you had to be dragged through—the side that existed all because of people like him, too.
“Fuck you, Kim Seungmin,” you croaked out through tears. “I knew someone like you would never understand.”
And you ran.
“What are—Y/N! Come back here!”
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03 : THREE.
“Y/N, where in the world even are you? You need to come back to the actors’ tent right now!”
Changbin’s voice boomed through your phone’s speaker a lot louder than usual, causing you to jerk it away from your ear in pain. Well, you did deserve the scolding—after running off to God knows where in a relatively remote town you didn’t even know, you would be pissed as hell too if you were your manager. What kind of actress just leaves the set without a single thought like that?
“I swear, Y/N. Do not tell me you’re lost because I’m pretty sure I left you somewhere safe the last time I saw you,” you hear Changbin huff on the opposite end. “I can’t believe you told me that you were going to be fine on your own, and I actually trusted you. That’s it! I’m not letting you wander around the set anymore from this point onwards!”
You couldn’t help but find your manager’s rant funny, despite the clear threat being held above your head. “Really? I’m telling you that it’s almost call time, and you’re just laughing. Fine, go on your own soul-searching, or whatever it is you’re doing. I’m telling everyone you left your role to go play hooky—”
Oh, you could only wish. After your little squabble with Seungmin, playing hooky didn’t sound like a bad option. Sadly, you still had a conscience that weighed on you—even more hypersensitive to the people around it with your co-star’s earlier comment of ruining other people’s hard work. You hurriedly shook your head to get rid of the negative thoughts that were starting to plague your head once again, and instead focused on the group of trees that lined the path towards the entrance of the function hall.
“Changbin, I’m fine.”
“Damn right, you should be!” He screeches one last time before calming down. “But in all seriousness, you need to head over here now, or Director Han is going to chew me a new one. He knows my sister, and I don’t want to be berated for not doing my job properly by her of all people.”
You chuckled at the competitiveness in his voice. “Don’t worry, I just took a short walk for fresh air. You know how nervous I was earlier on the way to the set.” Changbin hummed in acknowledgement.
“And on the way to this town in general,” he teases. It didn’t last long, though, since he immediately followed up on your well-being with a soft tone. “Did the walk help? I can get you some hot tea too, if you want.”
“Look at you, finally being a proper manager,” you threw back at him, snickering as offended noises started to pour out of your phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll take you up on that tea offer. Plus, I’m just around the corner now.”
Once you saw his figure coming into view, you hung up the call and opted to wave your right arm to catch his attention. Changbin broke out into a frantic sprint towards you the minute he saw you approaching.
“Oh, thank whatever deity there is. You need to head over to the tent right now and—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, holding you still at arms length to give you a look of confusion as he scanned your face. “Did you cry? Why are your eyes like that?”
Shoot. You had totally forgotten about that for a second. “Ah,” was all you could muster in a sheepish daze. “It was just to let the nerves out, you know? It’s nothing serious.”
Changbin narrowed his eyes at your excuse, making you hold your breath unintentionally. It felt as though you were being picked apart, trying to find the truth that you desperately wanted to keep hidden. Eventually, the man before you decided to let it be, sending you off with an exhausted wave.
“Hm. Alright, and it’s already going away, so it must’ve just been a light session. Try to blink it out more so that it’s long gone once you step in front of the cameras.”
You silently breathed out a sigh of relief. “Will do. Thanks, Changbin.”
“Stop being a sap and head over to the tent already,” he chuckles before sending you a comforting smile. “Good luck. I’ll just be here.”
A grateful look found its way onto your face as you walked briskly towards the actors’ tent. You should really treat Changbin to dinner after all of this is over, you think to yourself, putting on your game face and entering the enclosed area with a newly steeled heart.
Now, Seungmin wasn’t the type to be overly concerned with others’ business. While he wouldn’t exactly call himself an extreme individualist, he still did have an appreciation for community. You wouldn’t catch him dead in the act of trying to mingle with someone else’s issues if it had nothing to do with him. However, all that seemed to somehow fly out the window whenever it had something to do with you.
To him, you were a person qualified enough to be considered intertwined with his own life. Sure, he hadn’t seen you in person for years, but that still would never be able to erase the fact that you knew him behind the cameras. Actually, even worse.
You knew the person he was before he even took up acting as a career.
Perhaps that was why he was so bothered by the way you were acting with him recently. He doesn’t even recall ever being that hostile to someone since his high school days, and that alone terrified him. It was like he regressed back to the days of his youth whenever he interacted with you—and that did more harm than good. The younger him was full of teen angst that he wanted to bury deep inside the confines of his past, but the animosity you seemed to harbor personally against him made him wonder if he was truly missing important information from that era of you both.
So when he saw you walk into the tent with fading redness evident in your eyes, just right after your small fight with him earlier, he instantly felt a punch in his gut. In all honesty, he wasn’t aiming to make you cry—it just so happened that the spur of the moment was so intense that he spat out things he barely meant. Sure, they still stemmed from the truth of how he felt since he did want to make amends with you, but even he wants to kick himself for the way he worded things so out of pocket. His reaction to the situation was so childish that it would be easier to think he finally went insane from the busy schedules he’s been doing than believe that what he did was a conscious decision. He was supposed to be the mature one at that moment, reaching out to fix the issue.
And yet here he was, feeling like a child in front of you.
He wanted to approach you, apologize for earlier, and maybe another one for whatever stupidity his old self did that was clearly bad enough for his mind to completely block out entirely. If you were reacting this much, it had to be at least somewhat of a traumatizing experience. Seungmin doesn’t think he ever got that bad back then, but everyone had different perspectives—and yes, young him had a tendency to be a prick. He still had friends, though, and no one ever called him in to discuss his behavior, so it wasn’t like he was a bully.
Either way, he felt the need to apologize—and maybe get an apology back, but his legs wouldn’t let him. A part of him knew that if he did approach you at the moment, you might run away again, and it was almost time for the briefing. Instead, he settled on looking at you across the pop-up room, hoping that his silent sentiment was delivered.
Which it was not. At all.
If anything, it added more pressure to whatever nerves you were holding back. Seungmin’s gaze was so piercing to the point that you didn’t even need to turn and look to know that he had his eyes locked on you. What does he want from you now? Oh, right—you two would be filming your scenes together in a matter of about an hour or two. Maybe this was Seungmin’s way of telling you to get your shit together while finally respecting your wishes to be left alone. Improvement is improvement, so you’d leave him alone to do his thing too.
“All right, is everyone here?” A lean man in his mid-twenties walked in, asking everyone inside. There was another person following him, yet seemingly younger. “It seems so. If someone you know is late, just fill them in with the details later.”
The first man lifted up a thick bind of paper, which you quickly recognized as the script. “I’m sure everyone has read their copy of this. My name is Hwang Hyunjin, and I’m the head scriptwriter for this film. Over here to my side is Yang Jeongin, my assistant. We’re here to give you a briefing on how this shoot will go for today since Director Han and Assistant Director Lee are busy with the filming crew as of the moment.”
So they were the ones behind the script. You felt your excitement levels increase as various questions about the story’s making filled your head—but you would save that for another day. Perhaps during the crew dinner after the movie’s filming was completed.
“Today, we’ll be filming one of the first scenes in the movie—the reunion. That’s why there’s a lot of you are here right now, despite the story only really having a few recurring characters. Still, whatever your role is, I hope you take this opportunity with pride. All of you here will be treated as actors for as long as you stand on this set, so have the dignity of one. Whether you have lines or not, what I expect from all of you is your best, and only your best,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang emphasized.
The briefing continued on with the necessary information for the reunion scene, with detailed clarifications and stage directions. If you weren’t locked in on all the information being fed to you, you would’ve had half the mind to acknowledge how strikingly handsome the man was upfront. A few others did, though, and you couldn’t really blame them. The guy could be an actor himself if he wanted to be.
“And I believe that’s all for now,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Hair and makeup will take care of you all for about an hour and a half. I see that some of you already came prepared, so go ahead and touch up yourself if you want to. Main characters, you have your own booths,” he glances towards the stations at the end of the tent.
“You’ll be called up when needed. Actor Kim Seungmin, please get ready first since we need you for the entrance shots. That is all. Good luck.”
Head Scriptwriter Hwang bows politely to all of you before exiting the tent with Assistant Yang. With that, the battlefield begins.
You couldn’t remember much of what was happening other than you being sat down in front of a well-lit mirror and letting yourself become a doll in the hands of the make-up artists. The one assigned to your hair did start a short conversation about your previous works, to which you could only thank her shyly for her support. While you weren’t the most popular actress out there, you were still relatively well-known, with notable works under your belt. Seven years of experience wasn’t something someone could just laugh at, after all.
On the other hand, your co-star was a famous A-lister who was most likely getting paid significantly more than you for his role in this film. You glanced a bit to your right, where Kim Seungmin was happily chatting with his hair and makeup assignees, his voice effortlessly traveling its way over to your spot.
Ever the social butterfly, that one.
“Are you excited?” The woman assigned to your hair, who you learned was named Eunha, asked. You looked at her, startled by the sudden topic change. “Sorry—it’s just that you kept looking over at Actor Kim that it came to mind. He is quite the looker, isn’t he?”
“Oh.”
How should you even respond to that? It wasn’t like you could just go around advertising your personal beef with the man when, as far as you knew, he had a clean record on his plate. That would just be a lawsuit waiting to happen. You’d have to settle for something vague instead. “I guess,” you cringe at the evident pain in your voice.
“I’ve heard from others in the industry that he’s a great guy. You’ll have a blast filming this movie with him. I know it’s a bit awkward right now, but I’m sure you’ll warm up to him soon. After all, you’re both the lead roles.”
You’ll surely have a blast, alright—straight to the ego.
This conversation just gave you the unfriendly reminder that you had to act all lovey-dovey with this man, and if anything, it was triggering some unpleasant memories. By memories, you meant the charity drama from your acting academy days.
Your experience with that project was interesting, to say the least.
It had all started with Seungmin winning the prize of being the drama’s male lead after getting the top spot on the year-end evaluation for the junior level. Along with his prize came the privilege to choose who he would be acting alongside, only to surprise everyone when he chose you, a trainee who barely got recognition and wasn’t even in the top ten of your level. At first, you felt honored. It was like you were finally getting acknowledged, and by the top performer, no less. So you worked hard to do your part properly, wanting to repay Seungmin for his act of kindness; only for that kindness to turn out to be a mockery of you.
The difference in skill between you two was just too wide. Your shortcomings showed far too much, and your mistakes ended up being emphasized to the point that your level advisor became endlessly frustrated with you. First, it was the scolding. The woman clearly did not appreciate you holding back the entire production, especially since it was for a cause, so she would point out every problem in your acting, which quickly took a turn after you showed barely any improvement. Eventually, your advisor started to berate you—going as far as constantly referring to you as the reason the drama would fail. When you tried to raise the concern with her that it was affecting you negatively, she only brushed you off with a comment about how you should know to take constructive criticism this early to succeed in the actual industry.
At eighteen years old, you could only clench your teeth and accept your fate.
Things only got worse when you overheard Seungmin talking to his friends near the vending machines after practice one day—the same day they were talking about you.
“Dude, why did you choose Y/N to be the female lead?” One of Seungmin’s friends, Yeonjun, groaned aloud. “She’s awful at it. What? Do you like her or something?”
Seungmin only shrugged. “Not really,” he said, uninterested. “I just kept seeing her name during level advancements but never saw her doing anything to stand out. If she got this far, then I should give her a chance, no?” Yeonjun pursed his lips at the answer.
“That’s just cruel, man. The witch has it out for her now.”
“Then she can just do better,” Seungmin chuckles, taking a sip from his soda before continuing. “Not my problem anymore. If I do my role well enough, maybe they’ll pay less attention to whatever she’s doing.”
Beomgyu, another friend of his, scoffed. “So, like—you’re basically using her to your advantage.” You watched Seungmin wave him off without a care.
“Stop making it sound so bad like that,” he hums at the thought. “Let’s just say I’m saving her the embarrassment. Like you said, it was my fault she’s getting thrown around like this anyway,” Seungmin continues before tossing his empty can of soda in the trash.
And wow, did you feel like one after hearing that.
Starting from that point onwards, you held a dislike for Kim Seungmin. It did, however, give you enough spite to use as a driving force to do well in the charity drama—eventually climbing up to senior level right beside Seungmin, where you two clashed for the higher ranks before graduating and starting your own careers.
Despite this, the memory of the junior project still stayed ingrained in you, never really managing to fade away like you wanted it to, causing you to struggle in your quest to succeed in the industry. The deprecating thoughts came at the worst times, making you revert back to that eighteen-year-old who kept her tears at bay as the director shouted at her for the nth time.
It was particularly the worst right now.
“Cut! Bad take!”
You snapped your head towards Director Han, who looked so frustrated that he started to resemble a certain someone from the ghosts of your memories. Kim Seungmin was in front of you, his tongue poking at his cheek after hearing the comment. Right, you were at the set—shooting a scene. And you had just failed to say your next line.
“Actress Y/N, you can’t just keep forgetting your lines like this!”
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04 : FOUR.
You really can’t go on forgetting your lines like this.
“Y/N.” Changbin sighs heavily. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
It would have been amazing if the gods could hear your plea. Your wish was fairly simple, after all—to be buried six feet under at the moment. To hell with being a popular actress; you wanted nothing more than to disappear right now after that stunt you just pulled. On the first day of filming, no less.
Should you just go dig your own hole instead?
“It won’t happen again,” you softly replied, like a child getting scolded by their mother.
Your manager could only take a deep inhale at your words. “And I believe you, I really do,” he says. “But I can’t just let this go like this.”
Of course, he couldn’t. You would do the same thing in his shoes. Changbin was a manager for an actress—an actress who clearly can’t even manage herself. Your job’s core had a simple description, and that was to act out your lines. Lines that you had to memorize, internalize, and perform. What was the point of having seven years of experience under your belt if you couldn’t even do the basics of your occupation?
“You have to understand, Y/N. It wasn’t just once, or twice, or heck—not even thrice! You had a minimum of five retakes per couple of lines, and that’s already concerning enough for me to have to intervene. Director Han was really disappointed today, and it’s only the first filming. The only reason you’re still coming back on set tomorrow is because, at the end of the day, we managed to get good takes despite the issues. So pray tell, is something wrong?”
The humble inn’s room you were staying in became devoid of sound from your lack of response, making the cicadas outside seem a lot louder than they actually were. Your sitting figure made you look small in front of the man before you, who was pacing across the room in distressed strides. In all honesty, you had nothing to say back to Changbin. As much as you trusted him like your own older brother, explaining your oh-so-stellar performance earlier would entail having to reveal your past with Kim Seungmin, which was the last thing on the list of secrets you wanted to get out. Thus, there was only one solution to your dilemma.
“Can we replace Kim Seungmin?”
Changbin’s jaw slacked. “What—him again?” He laughed humorlessly, completely baffled at your request. “And replace, you say? Y/N, at the rate we’re going, you’re the one in danger of getting replaced!”
Okay, you should’ve expected that. But the sting from your manager’s comment wouldn’t hurt any less, even if you did.
You were well aware of all of your shortcomings as an actress. The seven years you gained in this industry clearly taught you a lot of important lessons, but those same seven years barely did anything to your ability, no matter the amount of effort you desperately poured into your career. It felt like a futile attempt at pouring into a cup that had a big hole at the bottom—knowing you could be filled to the brim with the necessary factors to succeed exponentially, yet still letting everything go down the drain.
Maybe this was the wake up call you needed to acknowledge that you’re the only one holding yourself back. And you had the slight inkling that you knew all along where this whole mess stemmed from.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what, even?” Changbin ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “Look, if you really don’t want to tell me, then fine. I’ll respect your wishes. But you can’t expect me to understand where you’re coming from if I know nothing. Deal with how overbearing I could be, or I don’t know, just keep that in mind.”
“I understand.” You meekly nodded. “Sorry, again. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
With your vague words, Changbin eventually came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to speak about the issue today. Walking towards you, he finally accepted your decision with a light pat on the head. “You don’t have to say that to me, Y/N. Maybe to the crew tomorrow. And Actor Kim Seungmin if you want. Just promise me a better performance tomorrow, and we’ll be good.”
You chuckled dryly. “Yes, I’ll do that.”
“Alright.” Your manager rolled his shoulders back, releasing the tension that built up from his pacing. “I’ll go to my own room now. Get some good rest. You need it after what happened today,” he chuckles.
“Okay, good night.”
You plastered a small smile for him, only letting it drop completely after you heard the door shut. After that, it was just you and your mind, ready to play the most depressing thoughts all through the night to beat you down once again. However, you weren’t going to fall for that today. You had already promised a better performance on filming tomorrow.
And what better ways were there to achieve both than practice until the sun rises?
Well, that surely did it’s work for you because you walked into the set the next day looking like a few years had just shaved off your lifespan. But as long as you could still function well enough to participate in the shoot, then you would consider your little sacrifice worth it.
A certain someone would beg to disagree, though.
Seungmin has never felt more concerned in his life. Just what in the world did you do all night to come out of your room looking like a literal zombie? To make matters worse, no one was even batting an eye at your less-than-ideal state! He watched you get your makeup done from across the tent with a thoughtful expression.
“Is it just me, or did Y/N get no sleep whatsoever?”
Minho cringed at Seungmin’s blunt comment. “Oh, you noticed it too?” He purses his lip, feeling uneasy. “I feel bad for her, but after the mishap from yesterday, I wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed up all night trying to make sure it doesn’t happen again. No sleep is better than no role in this industry, after all.”
Seungmin frowned at his manager’s words. That can’t be right. Sure, as actors, getting roles to play was their bread and butter—but no project was going to be worth more than their own well-being. If your condition was bad, then how were you expecting to have the proper mindset to act well? That should be simple logic.
He huffed. “I’m going to talk to her.”
Before he could even take a step forward, a strong force had already pulled him back. “Stop right there, Seungmin.” His manager gripped his shoulder in warning. “I know you mean well, but please do not do anything to agitate Actress Y/N any further.”
Seungmin turns back in disbelief. “What are you even talking about?”
“Aren’t you two close? I know how you joke around when you’re comfortable, and I’m just letting you know that this might not be the best time to do so.”
The actor narrowed his eyes at the implication being thrown his way. “You know, you’re making me out to be a major ass right now.” Minho shrugged.
“That’s because one wrong move, and you might as well be,” he sighs. “Look, all I’m saying is that what she probably needs right now is support. Someone who would give her motivation to get through the shoot today.”
Seungmin deadpanned at his manager’s sudden advice. He wasn’t expecting Minho, of all people, to lecture him about how to properly interact with others. “Exactly?” The younger of the two raises a brow. “What else do you think I was going to do?”
Minho looked hesitant for a second. “You and I both know that you’re not exactly the most—” he trails off, making random expressive movements with his hands instead. Seungmin scoffed.
“Spit it out.”
“—Motivating. You’re probably the least motivating person here.”
Seungmin visibly blanched at Minho’s admittance. Truth be told, he wasn’t expecting the older man to say anything particularly nice, but the actual reveal was just completely out of his radar.
Even when he was young, Seungmin never struggled with making friends. He’s always been well-liked by the people around him, which has made him fairly popular amongst his peers. With such a positive response from a lot of people regarding him as a person, Seungmin was clearly gifted in the art of making friends. So now, being told that he lacked the skill of uplifting others greatly confused him. If that were true, then shouldn’t he have had the opposite experience with socializing?
“I—” He stutters, caught off guard. “Do my social skills not prove to be enough for you?”
“Those are two completely separate things,” Minho barely managed to suppress a sneer. “Seungmin, you’re great at casual talk—that’s no surprise. But you also have the tendency to be dense. And that’s putting it lightly.”
“Oh.”
That would make sense. A part of him also admitted that his younger counterpart did struggle with connecting to others. Yes, he had a lot of friends, but that didn’t mean he saw all of them equally. As harsh as that may be, the old Seungmin had this unfathomable standard for people he could call friends, which he used as a strict criteria for judging others. He still kicks himself whenever he gets reminded of how big his high horse used to be, for no reason. Seungmin was more than willing to leave that time of his life at the back of his mind to collect dust. His life has been so much better without it, and he would do anything to maintain this satisfactory present he has carved for himself.
His manager chuckled. “Who knows, though? Maybe you could finally practice your empathy with this conversation. You’ve been around professional robots for far too long.”
“That sounds like an insult,” Seungmin says, expressing his doubt.
“I’m just saying it as it is.” Minho patted his back twice. “Now, I already warned you enough. If you still want to talk to Actress Y/N, then go ahead. Just know that whatever comes out of that mouth of yours is completely your responsibility, and I will not cover for you if you come out of this one with a broken friendship.”
Seungmin let the words sink in.
“There you go, all done!” Eunha exclaims, lightly pushing your hair forward to make the volume more noticeable. You gave her a thankful smile.
Eunha was someone you'd only known for two days, but she was already becoming your favorite person on set. The way she manages to lighten your mood every time made her worthy of being on the list of people you greatly appreciated, especially with how things were going for you recently. Today too, her positivity was very welcomed.
“Thank you,” you say while admiring her work. “It looks pretty today too.”
The hairstylist beamed. “Of course it should be,” she huffs in pride. “You need to be the prettiest one here on set. After all, you’re the female lead!”
You knew she didn’t mean it to be, but her words felt like little stabs to your heart. The prickly ache spread slowly, like poison that was meant to be discrete. You chuckled to offset the pain.
“Right.”
Female lead. The character you worked so hard for—only for you to also ruin the chance with your own hands. You couldn’t help but think of how ungrateful you were being, and for what? A personal grudge towards your co-star, who was being more professional about the situation than you ever tried to be? It was almost laughable how belatedly you realized that the situation was never going to be in your favor. You weren’t someone looking to be pitied, so why were you hypocritically trying to paint yourself as the distressed damsel?
Eunha sent you a troubled glance as she fixed the tools on the table. “Are you alright? I—” She sighed. “I didn’t want to point it out earlier, but I guess my concern got the best of me. The bags under your eyes looked deep earlier—Yerin did a great job covering them up, though! You don’t worry about how you’ll look on camera, but I’m just worried about your condition.”
You sheepishly scratched your arm at being pointed out. “Sorry for worrying you. I just forgot the time last night and fell asleep late. You could say I was too excited to shoot again today.”
“Well, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”
You jumped in your chair, startled by Seungmin’s voice suddenly joining the space on your side of the tent. Eunha’s eyes gave you a silent apology before bowing to Seungmin and heading out of the tent, indicating that her task was finished. Your gaze fluttered toward your co-star, who was looking at you in a disapproving manner. It was then that you remembered his comment.
“And that was rude of you to disrupt a conversation that had nothing to do with you.”
Seungmin wasn’t fazed by your bite. “Why didn’t you sleep?”
“I asked a question first, Kim.” You crossed your arms at being ignored. “Also, I did sleep.”
"No, you didn’t,” he pressed on. You could feel your blood pressure rise at his insistence. “Even a twenty-minute nap could do wonders. You just look horrible.” You scoffed at the insult.
“Gee, thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear.”
Seungmin’s eyes widened comically, and you almost laughed at the sight. Almost. He looked so guilty of what he had just said that you felt the urge to tease him as revenge.
“Wait, no—”
“An explanation isn’t necessary,” you hummed. “Even if that wasn’t a joke, I could really care less right now.”
Your reply made Seungmin flail his hands around like a madman. “It was a joke. I didn’t mean anything about it,” he coughs out before composing himself after realizing how silly he was acting. “Sorry.”
“Ok. Thank you for apologizing.”
“Sure,” he trailed off. Seungmin was now unsure of what to even do.
Oddly enough, your heart warmed at his reaction. A part of you was thanking yourself for finally becoming more rational, as you thought that maybe he wasn’t so bad. Sure, your past together was still rocky territory, but you had to remind yourself that time had also passed. Seven years at that. That detail took you back to the conversation you two had back at the table reading. You remember the way you hissed at him that you had changed—what made you assume that he couldn’t do it too? Everyone was allowed to become better versions of themselves, and Kim Seungmin wasn’t exempted from that. He was but another person living amongst others in this world, after all.
Changbin was right. Seungmin also deserved an apology.
“I guess I also owe you an apology,” you say softly. “About how I’ve been towards you the whole time—it was immature of me. I hope we can continue to work well until the end of this project, like you said yesterday.”
“Now, this is just odd.”
Seungmin was now utterly lost. He recalls approaching you despite Minho’s warnings, deciding that he had enough self-restraint to not screw it up—only to end up insulting you without meaning to. But that wasn’t the confusing part.
It was your reaction.
In Seungmin’s experience, you weren’t one to let something go like that. Even back when you both were in your senior level days at the academy, a simple jest from him would set you off into flames. The you he knew would immediately choose to chew him out, hoping that he would get burned by a rogue ember of your fury for even just attempting to speak such words. But the person in front of him right now did none of that. The you in the present simply took the accidental insult and even apologized for the ones you’ve spat out over the previous days. It was a whiplash, to say the least—just yesterday he was still fighting to keep you in a flowing conversation. So, what was this he was witnessing?
“Is it?” You snicker. “Just think of it like winning. You were right. This is a high-profile project, and I’m over here messing around. I’ve prepared a better performance for you all to see today, so be rest assured.” Seungmin still wasn’t assured.
“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright—”
“Main characters on set!”
Damn. So that’s how it feels for your conversation to get interrupted by someone unrelated to it. Seungmin internally acknowledged your annoyance earlier and kicked the memory of himself from a few minutes earlier.
You turned back to him, tilting your head. “What was that?” Seungmin refused to admit that he found the action cute.
“No, it’s nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s have a good shoot.”
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05 : FIVE.
Okay, you do not think this was turning out to be a good shoot.
You were already regretting pulling another all-nighter the day after you got absolutely no sleep. This meant that you were already nearing 48 hours of no sleep, to which you were surprised you were still even capable of functioning. You had never gone this long without sleep, and it was both thrilling and terrifying to you at the same time.
Honestly, you were already expecting to feel lethargic after the shoot yesterday, especially after staying up the entire night to master your parts and was planning to go to sleep early to make up for it. However, after getting nothing but praise from the directors and filming crew the whole day for your stellar performance that day, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your sacrificial act was exceptionally effective. A little too effective since your manager even said that your acting became much more alive than the takes you did the previous day, despite feeling the complete opposite internally.
Now, while you normally wouldn’t describe yourself as someone who was peer pressured easily, it still felt really nice for your hard work to be acknowledged after the disappointing performance you had the day before. Which also led you to your current predicament—woefully repeating the same magical process that helped you gain your reputation back.
“You’re yawning an awful lot.” Seungmin raised a brow in question. “Don’t tell me that all the praise you got yesterday already got to your head, and you suddenly find all this boring.”
An irked look made its way onto your face, pinching hard on Seungmin’s arm. You watched in satisfaction as he yelped audibly at your damage, jerking away in reflex. “What the fuck, woman?”
“It’s what you get,” you say nonchalantly while shrugging. Seungmin scoffs at the response.
“Just because we have a truce now doesn’t mean you can abuse me whenever you like,” he snarls. “What happened to the Y/N who didn’t want me to talk to her unless, quote on quote, necessary?”
You cringe at the unwelcome reminder of your previous activities. “I apologized! Would you rather have me act like a total bitch again?”
“Well—no. That Y/N was a pain to deal with.”
“Then be grateful for what you have right now.”
Seungmin lets out an amused snort, crossing his arms and leaning backwards closer towards the living room’s walls, where you two were on standby. “Oh, believe me. I’m more than grateful.”
The set right now was in a cozy cottage house, designed to imitate what the female lead’s family home would look like. You had already moved past the beginnings of the main characters’ romance yesterday and were now heading into the development stage, where they spend more time together until they realize their feelings. A domestic scene in one character’s home was a popular trope—which was, of course, also included in the movie.
If today’s shoot goes well, then you only have one day left in the filming process before everyone packs up to head back to the city. Not for Seungmin, though. The male lead still had to film the first part of the movie where he quit his job at the company. You’d have to laugh at him about it on the last day.
First, you had to get through this shoot without fainting flat on your face.
It was a particularly hot day too, which made your drowsiness even worse. The rural countryside cottage didn’t have an air conditioner set up, so you had to make do with fans all over the place. But that barely did anything to cool you down, as the air around the place itself was humid. At least you weren’t shooting out in the sun today.
“Geez, my makeup might melt even before we start filming,” you groan. “That’s if my head doesn’t explode first.”
Seungmin chuckles. “Blame your character for being a sweater enthusiast. That outfit must be torture in this weather.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. The thick baby blue cardigan you were wearing felt like a punishment to wear at the moment. It was unfortunate that you felt really cute in this get-up because you wanted to trash on it so badly.
Actually, fuck it. Comfort matters more.
“I don’t understand how she does it,” you whine dramatically. “Every scene she’s had has her wearing some kind of version of a sweater. Does she not get hot at all?” You pull on your slightly weighted cardigan.
“I do think she’s plenty hot enough.” Seungmin smirks, glancing at you while waiting for your reaction.
You hummed in agreement. “She’s probably just tolerating it since it's her clothing style. I’ve had my fair share of those moments too.”
It wasn’t something you could see since you were more preoccupied with watching the staff prepare for filming, but Seungmin’s ears were slowly turning red. He took note of how his less than savory joke completely flew over your head, now leaving him to drown in the embarrassment of his original intentions.
Internally, he was already having a boxing match with himself. He thinks she’s plenty hot enough? What does that even mean? You were the only image he had of the female lead since you had her role! Seungmin wanted the ground to suddenly swallow him whole at the implication.
You, on the other hand, were fighting a completely different battle. The combination of the heat and your severe lack of sleep was becoming dangerous. You could already feel a growing pounding in your head, the world’s noise becoming more muffled by the second. It seemed like your vision wasn’t affected yet, though—and for that, you were relieved. That meant you could still stretch yourself out until the shoot was finished. You’d already done this once yesterday, so a second time wouldn’t be that bad, right?
Wrong.
Seungmin’s voice as he carried out his lines in the scene seemed so far away to you already, and it had only been an hour since the cameras started rolling. Internally, you were already sounding the sirens. Something was definitely wrong—you don’t think Seungmin was supposed to sound like he was underwater.
Your co-star seemed to notice that you were out of it too, except he couldn’t exactly stop the scene as you were still conducting your parts as proficiently as you could. Director Han hasn’t called a cut yet, either. So, he settled on carefully watching you for signs. You also thought you could last until the scene was over—until you couldn’t.
The last thing you remember was a figure rushing over to you before your sight went pitch black.
“Y/N!”
“Cut!”
Seungmin felt his heart race as he dashed over to catch you from crashing to the ground. What was going on? You were completely fine a while ago. How did you end up fainting? Could it have been the heat? He didn’t think it was going to be that bad for you since he was dealing with it pretty well. The heat wasn’t exactly unbearable. So what was it?
“Actor Kim Seungmin,” D.O.P. Bang called out. “We should take her to the medic tent. Someone, call her manager.”
Seungmin had never agreed more to a suggestion in his life.
“Seungmin? What’s—” Minho’s face paled in shock at the sight of your limp figure. “Oh, shit. That’s why everyone is running around like headless chickens. Quick, let’s get her to the medics.”
Minho sped over to give the actor a helping hand on steadying you, only to be stopped. “We’re wasting so much time.” Seungmin clicks his tongue.
Everyone could only watch as Seungmin positioned his arms on your back and behind your knees, hastily pulling you up towards him in a bridal carry and speeding away to the medic’s tent. Minho’s jaw dropped at his talent’s actions before recovering from the shock and tailing him.
“Seungmin!”
“What?” Seungmin responds half-heartedly as he sets you down on the cushioned stretcher, stepping back as the medics do their job.
“You—” Minho squeaks out. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That!” He gestured towards you, still unconscious and being checked on by the medics on standby. “Did you just carry Actress Y/N?”
Seungmin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “And what about it? Did I commit a crime or something? I was just helping!”
Minho was conflicted. In all the years he had been working as Seungmin’s manager, the actor had never shown this much attention towards his other co-workers, despite maintaining an approachable and friendly image. Of course, that wasn’t particularly a bad thing—especially in an industry where caution towards everyone around you was basic common sense to prevent yourself from going down a road that would lead to your demise. The view was great up where it was high, but the fall was just as immense.
What Minho did acknowledge was your past with Seungmin. Because of that, he was inclined to think more about your friendship with his talent and how that played into your dynamic. Yet, over the course of the two days you two had been filming, he hasn’t exactly seen the kind of relationship he was expecting. There were discrepancies in what he knew about you and Seungmin, as well as gaps in the bond his actor painted a picture of. In times like these, there were only a few reasonable explanations that Minho could think of, which made him uneasy.
Something big was coming in the future—one that he needed to prepare for as early as now.
Hurried footsteps could be heard nearing the tent as Seungmin and Minho diverted their lines of sight towards the entrance, just in time to see a fairly muscular figure come in all frantic. “How is she?”
Minho immediately recognized the man from a conversation he had in the personal staff area, recalling his introduction as your manager. The former bowed slightly in greeting. “Manager Seo Changbin.” Seungmin felt his blood boil after seeing your manager’s late entrance.
“Where even were you?” He asked coldly, intentionally making his tone sharp. “You know, for her manager, you sure are practically nowhere to be found during shoots.”
Changbin splutters at the accusation. “Y/N doesn’t like it when I stay to watch! She says it’s pressuring!”
“Sure. But it’s your job to be on standby in the event that she needs you. How come you weren’t?”
“I—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” A new face entered the space, who Seungmin quickly made out to be Assistant Director Lee. The second-in-hand gave him a disapproving look. “Actor Kim Seungmin, please stop lashing out at Actress Y/N’s manager.”
Seungmin felt like he was seconds away from committing arson. “I’m not lashing out if it's a reasonable argument!”
He felt someone grab a hold of him, forcefully pushing him down to sit. It was only then that Seungmin seemed to finally be conscious of how emotionally he had been acting—accepting Minho’s foresight on his actions. Assistant Director Lee, on the other hand, did not appreciate his recklessness.
“That it is, but we’re going to need you to stay calm,” he states. “The situation is sensitive enough as it is.”
Seungmin felt like he had no choice but to agree. He couldn’t risk making an unreasonable scene in such a respected project set, and knowing you, a tension-filled tent wasn’t going to be your preferred area of rest. Glancing back at your unconscious figure still being tended to, he let out a sigh to release the extra pressure in his chest.
Just what was he doing right now?
Once Assistant Director Lee saw him calm down a significant amount, he clapped to disperse the heavy silence. “Great. Now, can someone inform us when she wakes up so we can restart the shoot?”
So much for calming down, because Seungmin’s temper flared up again in an instant. “Are you kidding me?” He growled. “No, we are not proceeding with filming today!”
“Actor Kim, we don’t have enough time—”
“I’ll pay for all the expenses for the extension and rescheduling of all the remaining shoots. Put all of it under my personal bank account.”
Minho’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets in shock. “Seungmin, what—”
“I said what I said,” Seungmin continued. “Now go do it. Both of us won’t step in front of the camera for the rest of the day.”
“You can’t just decide that for Actress Y/N,” Assistant Director Lee reasoned in disbelief.
Unluckily for him, Seungmin had already made up his mind—and when that happens, he isn’t one to give up on it.
“Then we’ll tell her it’s cancelled because I’m sure as hell won’t be filming today. You can’t make her act out the scenes prepared today without me.”
Assistant Director Lee was conflicted. Taking a day off so suddenly when they’d already had everything set up was going to be such a waste—and frankly, Director Han was already on edge about it. Granted, this wasn’t the first time he’d come across this situation, and certainly won’t be the last in his time in the industry. Now, an actor telling them that they’d pay for the cost of their demand? That one was new.
Kim Seungmin was notorious in the field for being a perfectionist, so he honestly came in here expecting him to agree with their plan. Maybe he should’ve considered the rumors he’d heard around the set that Actor Kim and you were closer than they initially thought. With that, Assistant Director Lee could only sigh. He’d just have to deal with Director Han’s displeasure.
Along with being a perfectionist, Kim Seungmin was also incredibly stubborn.
“I understand,” he concedes. “I’ll inform Director Han.”
Seungmin tried not to show his surprise on his face. He didn’t think he’d actually get this result so easily, but it was welcomed. “Thank you.”
“Let us know if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
Assistant Director Lee chuckled at Seungmin’s firm reply before announcing his leave. The atmosphere in the tent improved as he stepped out, but awkwardness still lingered in the air. Minho dropped down to slump on a plastic chair, leaving Changbin to stand stiffly near him.
“Y/N is totally gonna kill you, dude.” Minho groans, completely letting go of formalities in stress.
Seungmin had half the mind to be embarrassed by his choices. “And to think I’m doing this all for her sake,” he scoffs good-naturedly before turning to your manager. “Did something happen before the shoot? She couldn’t have passed out like this just because of the heat today.”
Changbin scratches at his neck. “Uh, I’m not sure—”
“—It’s exhaustion,” one of the medics spoke up. “Her body seems to be completely fatigued, as well as slightly dehydrated, but that must be the heat’s contribution. Has she not been getting enough rest?”
They watched as Changbin’s face morphed into shock, completely unsure of how that could’ve even happened. “But she said she was going to bed early yesterday!”
Your manager was slowly getting on Seungmin’s nerves. First, it was his constant absence from the set. Next, it was his blatant disregard for your well-being. The last time he checked, a manager was supposed to be aware of their talent’s condition as much as possible. Any less and it would be neglect.
He narrowed his eyes. “The picture you’re painting for me is not a good one, Manager Seo.”
“What are you implying right now, Actor Kim?” Changbin pounced back, Seungmin’s tone stirring negative emotions inside him.
Seungmin refused to back down. “You know damn well.”
“Kim Seungmin!”
“Watch your mouth—”
A rustling noise interrupted the three men’s small disagreement. “Ugh,” you groaned in pain. “What in the world?”
“Y/N!” Seungmin jumps up without a second thought to rush over. In the distance, Minho and Changbin’s eyes meet in mutual speculation.
“Seungmin, sorry, but please shut up.” You raise a hand to cradle your head. “My head is pounding.”
You could vaguely make up a medic handing Seungmin some pills and a bottle of water, saying something about how you were stable enough to just need rest and hydration. The next thing you knew was feeling a hand gently take your chin to create an opening and a pill being dropped inside, along with a water bottle pressing against your lips. You gulped it down in shock.
“The fuck—” You coughed. Another hand came up again to wipe some of the water you spilled around your mouth before you pushed it away. “Kim Seungmin!”
Your co-star rolled his eyes at your dramatics. “Would it kill you to stop being so fussy?”
“Not when you’re treating me like a child!”
Changbin clears his throat, effectively stopping your bickering. “Uh—I’m going to go get us lunch,” he meekly informs you two. “The medics also already went out to get food earlier, so I think we need to get our share before it’s all gone.”
Minho nods at Changbin’s words a bit too enthusiastically for your liking. “I’ll come with him. You two can talk while waiting.”
The two of you watch as your managers dash out of the tent like cartoon characters, raising a suspicious brow at their sudden change in behavior. Seungmin clicked his tongue in annoyance before turning back to you and flicking a finger at your forehead without warning. You squealed at the added pain as Seungmin’s suppressed laughter filled the room.
“You are such an asshole!” You shriek while bringing both hands to shield your forehead belatedly.
“And your hair looks like a nest,” he replies with a snicker.
You gave him a glare at his comment, rubbing the sore spot gently. “Shit,” you whined, feeling the ache from inside your head again. “I can’t believe I fainted. How long was I out? What about the shoot? Are we resuming after lunch?”
The questions you were asking him only served as Seungmin’s reminder of his actions earlier, causing his mouth to run dry. Truth be told, even he was unsure of how to tell you everything that happened while you were away in dreamland. He couldn’t just drop the ball at you that he made sure that the shoot had been cancelled just for you to have the rest of the day to rest up. At the same time, there was practically no other way to convince you that the cancellation wasn’t your fault unless he told you the truth.
But Seungmin had already caused you enough misunderstandings to last a decade—and he wasn’t about to add another one.
“You weren’t out for long,” he told you. “I’m actually surprised you even woke up right away. The shoot’s cancelled.”
He watched you pause to let the words sink in. What did he mean by the shoot’s been cancelled? Wouldn’t that be too costly? After all, you were literally renting a place far away from the city to shoot this movie. A shoot cancellation meant an extension, which also meant new arrangements needed to be made. You curled up into a ball, wanting to evaporate into the clouds at the heat of the sun. How much more were you going to screw up everyone’s experience with this project?
“Is it because of me?” You muttered.
Seungmin felt something inside him break at how small you made yourself seem. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid, only to once again fail to prevent it. That one was on him, though—he didn’t manage to tell you right away that he was the one responsible for the shoot’s cancellation. He felt the need to chase away your negative headspace as fast as possible.
“Why do you always blame yourself first? I cancelled the shoot, so just get some more rest.” He sighs.
Your eyes snap upwards to meet his. He had got to joking. “What?” You ask, bewildered at the statement. “And they agreed? I can still continue!”
Seungmin immediately acts to lift your legs back up on the stretcher when he sees you trying to get up. He places a heavy hand on your calves to lock them in place before sending you an unamused stare. “Land a single foot out of this stretcher, and I’ll make sure the shoot gets moved to next week.”
“You can’t just do that!” Your mouth gaped open like a fish. “Do you even know how bad the cost is going to be to extend for that long?”
“I’m more than capable of shouldering the expenses.”
That single statement made your stomach drop. “You cannot be serious,” was your horrified reaction. “Seungmin, did you pay for the extension costs?”
The man before you only shrugged, like he hadn’t just dropped significant information. “What about it?” You blanched at his unconcerned attitude.
“What do you mean, what about it?” You asked, absolutely outraged. “I swear, you’ve always been like this! You think you could just play around with everything around you, since you can. Why can’t you take things seriously for once?”
It was Seungmin’s turn to look offended. “Now, when did I ever do that?”
“The charity drama!” You cry out. “Yeah, I knew all about your little plan back then. If you acted well enough, they wouldn’t pay attention to whatever mess I was making, was it? I even overheard you telling your friends you chose me to become the female lead just because you were curious about how I kept advancing levels when I barely met the standard—and there I was foolish enough to believe that you chose me for my skills!”
“I—” Seungmin stammers. “I don’t remember that.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” you held back a sob, feeling emotional as you poured out your inner insecurities. “Why would you? Someone of your caliber could go around bending things to your will, and no one would bat an eye since they would justify it with your talent. I’m the complete opposite, Seungmin.”
Seungmin was quite alarmed, to say the least. These were your side of the story—the side that he never got to acknowledge. He could only watch you try to keep yourself together in front of him, clearly struggling as your emotions ran wild at the release of what seemed to be years of suppressed experiences. His body was screaming at him to move and comfort you in any way he knew how, but for the first time in his life, Seungmin was completely frozen in guilt.
“I’ve lived the life below people like you. We were the ones that were always stuck in the shadows, where stepping on us became the norm. People like us were the pieces in your games of chess who couldn’t even speak out in the fear of being thrown out.” You inhaled deeply before meeting his gaze. “It was a life you would never even begin to imagine experiencing at your ability, Seungmin.”
Your words were like spears thrown at Seungmin’s heart. They all rang true in his head. He would never understand what you went through because he was part of the problem. Seungmin thought back to his past, trying to recall where it all started.
He was a young child, only ten years old, when he discovered his passion for acting. His class decided to do a play for the school festival, and he got the role of the main character completely by chance through drawing lots. Young Seungmin didn’t think of it too much and agreed out of obligation. It wasn’t until practices started that he started to take an interest in it after receiving constant praise from his classmates and homeroom teacher. This fascination only bloomed more on the day of the festival, where he found out that performing for people could be this exhilarating.
From then on, Seungmin made it his lifelong dream to become an actor. Seeing his talent in the field, his parents supported him wholeheartedly, eventually leading to them suggesting he join an acting academy to improve. The praises didn’t stop even after he joined the academy—in fact, they only doubled in frequency, making Seungmin come to the conclusion that he must’ve been some sort of prodigy. Perhaps it was due to that mindset of his that he paraded around like the world was his. To his defense, none of the adults around him saw the wrong in his behavior and even went as far as encouraging it.
It was when he graduated from the academy and started his work as a professional actor that he got humbled by all the talent around him. Everyone seemed to be on his level or greater, which completely shattered his worldview. During those times in his rookie years, he learned the importance of hard work and how much it could really make a difference. There was one time that he thought to himself—maybe this was the reason he felt so attracted to you.
You were the first person he ever associated with the difference that hard work brought. Seungmin first noticed you on the first day of intermediate level. He had gotten to that level first and thus kept an eye out for notable candidates from the beginner level. The thing is, he had never even heard of you or any of your performances—so it was a complete surprise to see you climb up to intermediate level. From then on, he observed you from afar, never really approaching. To him, you seemed plain; someone who didn’t even exude star quality. So eventually, he forgot all about you again.
Until he saw your name on the same paper as his, indicating that both of you would be in the same batch that got promoted to junior level.
The charity drama was another project Seungmin gained an unexpected opportunity from. With the privilege given to him as the top ranker for the year-end evaluations, he chose you as his female lead. All Seungmin wanted was to see what kind of shine you had as an actor, and he was rewarded greatly with your stellar performance after days of painful practices. When you were once again bumped up to senior level right alongside him, he was ecstatic. You had changed since the charity drama, and your aura started to take up more space in their small practice room. Seungmin wanted to get closer to you, but the two of you would only end up clashing every time. He guesses that you and him were just complete opposites in everything, down to your work ethic. He still tried to interact with you in any way he knew how, though—which led to his friends teasing him about his little crush on you.
Now, he couldn’t help but think that maybe they were right.
Seungmin pulled his hand away from your calves, letting his hands fall down on his sides before bowing deeply. “I’m sorry. There would be no excuse for my actions, and it’s even worse that I have no recollection of the details when I’ve obviously affected someone. I know an apology wouldn’t erase everything that has already happened, but it would be the start of my attempts to make sure it doesn’t happen again. At this point, all I can ask for is your forgiveness.”
You quickly reached out to grasp his arms, trying to pull him up from his act of remorse. “Get up—oh my god. It’s fine, Seungmin. Really. I’ve already forgiven you yesterday, honestly. My behavior also had some faults towards you, and it was unacceptable.”
“Knowing why now, I think it was more than reasonable.”
You let out a laugh at his words. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” you teased. “Now, I think the other crew members also deserve an apology from us.” Seungmin’s face paled at the reminder. Just imagining Assistant Director Lee scolding him for his audacity earlier was sending him into early retirement.
“Yeah,” he coughs. “But can we not take back the shoot cancellation? It would be so awkward for me if we did, and you still need the rest.”
“Fine, you big baby.” You pinched his cheek after seeing his childish pout. Seungmin was quick to swat your hand away, despite the burning sensation he could feel heating up his ears. “So does this mean we’re friends?”
Even if he could feel a crack form in his heart from your innocent words, Seungmin refused to show it.
“Sure. Friends.”
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06 : SIX.
Being friends with Seungmin was odd.
Granted, you already got a taste of what that felt like for the two days that flew by since you two decided on a truce. However, you didn’t really feel much of a change in your dynamic in those two days—not until things took a turn after your conversation in the medic tent.
After your little heart-to-heart session, Seungmin had begun acting strangely. And by strangely, you meant becoming a complete one-eighty from the Kim Seungmin you were used to. It was almost like he was replaced by a softer, more warm-hearted version of himself. In one talk, you were suddenly subject to his endless affection, albeit still exhibiting the Kim Seungmin flare that you were comfortable with. Overall, it was just weird to think that four days ago, the two of you were fighting like cats and dogs. Now, you watched him bounce up and down as he gave himself a pep talk to prepare for the kissing scene.
“Are you that nervous?”
Seungmin flinches at your question, seemingly not expecting your voice to enter his head while he was seconds away from a meltdown. Your co-star looks at you sheepishly. “Is that bad? This is driving me insane.”
That was another thing different about Seungmin after the medic tent incident. He acted a lot more endearingly in your eyes. You faintly recall a comment you made a few days ago about how Seungmin would never be akin to a small bird who deserved to be doted on. But seeing the Seungmin in front of you right now, you might just take back your words.
Kim Seungmin had a lot more layers than you thought—and you found yourself wanting to uncover them all.
“I’m sure this isn’t your first kiss on camera,” you snort. “Just go do it like you usually do. Act like how your character would act in the moment. You have my whole consent, anyway.”
Seungmin wanted to tell you how much you didn’t understand his dilemma right now. In all fairness, even he was somewhat unsure of what was happening to him the past few days. All he did know was that he was right in what he thought during the first day of filming—he really did feel like he was turning younger in front of you.
It was almost embarrassing how easily he slipped into that carefree attitude around you, especially after your conversation in the medic tent. He was doing so well up until then, so what happened? Seungmin couldn’t be more curious about his own actions. He did have an inkling of what it was, but he needed more proof to act on it. Seungmin couldn’t risk becoming more of an idiot in your eyes. You already had too much of that experience with him during your filming yesterday, which was the rescheduled shoot of the one he demanded to pause.
That also meant that this was the last day you two had on set together before everyone packed their bags and headed back to the city. After that, it would be just him again on set to film the movie’s first scenes of his character.
Seungmin wasn’t disappointed. He totally wasn’t.
“What are you going to do if I lose control and give into my character, huh?” He argues. You stopped reading your script to give him an unamused stare.
“Seriously?” You scoffed. “If you really must know, then I wouldn’t do anything. If that’s what the male lead feels, then the female lead just needs to reciprocate if they’re really in love with each other. As their actors, we need to deliver those same emotions.”
You didn’t get what was making Seungmin so on edge about the scene. Reviewing his past works, this certainly wouldn’t be his first on-screen kiss, nor was it his first romance project as the male lead. What made you so different from his other co-stars that was making him act like a rookie?
“If anything, I should be more nervous than you. This is actually my first kiss scene!”
“That’s just even worse!” Seungmin whines, burying his face in his hands. “This is gonna be terrible.”
It was then that you finally had an idea as to why Seungmin looked like he was having a mid-life crisis this early in his life.
You felt a grin creep up on your face and paste itself there. “Did you want this to be a good memory for me?”
Seungmin groans at your poking. “Stop teasing me! So what if I do? Did I commit a crime, huh?”
“The crime of stealing my heart, yes.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Thank you,” you laugh. “I try my best.”
Seungmin mutters something beneath his breath—something you couldn’t hear because of Director Han calling for the two of you. He watched as you skipped away, leaving him to follow in your footsteps. Seungmin smiled at the picture painted in front of him.
“I know.”
You stopped at your designated place in front of the camera, turning back to look at Seungmin beside you, who was already sweating bullets. Your hand unconsciously lifts up to wipe them off, which startles the both of you. Seungmin opens his mouth to say something but was cut off by Director Han’s loud voice.
“Alright!” He claps. “This is our last scene for the day before we call it a wrap! I’m sure you two already know what it is, so all I’ll say is don't think too much about this. Enjoy it, or whatever you want to do—as long as it looks natural. Sounds good?” The two of you nod at him.
“Okay, camera starts at three,” he says, motioning towards D.O.P. Bang. “Two, one. Action!”
You took the opportunity to appreciate the scenery around you as the camera started rolling. The scene was set on a hill with a breathtaking view of the rest of the town. Hues of orange and pink start to tint the surroundings as the sun sets in the background. It was nothing less than ethereal, and you almost envied the female lead for having this moment in her life.
“I’ve always wanted to take someone here,” Seungmin says, reciting his lines. “When I was younger, I told myself that I was going to bring my true love here and propose. It was unfortunate that I moved away—this was my favorite spot in the whole world.”
You let yourself completely immerse in the situation. “Propose, huh? I’m sure the lucky person would love it up here. It’s so serene, like it's taking away all your stress just by being here.”
Seungmin gently grabs your hand into his, making you turn to meet his eyes. You almost gasped out of character after seeing the immense amount of love swirling in his gaze. Love looked great on him, you pointed out in your head. One day, Seungmin was going to look at someone else with the same gaze—someone that he loved with all his heart. A tinge of hot green jealousy burned in your stomach at the thought.
Part of you yearned for someone to look at you even just a fourth of the way Seungmin portrayed the male lead’s longing for the female lead. But for now, you had a role to fulfill. You could just lock these feelings up for later.
“Do you?” He asks. Your breath hitches at his question. “I’m not proposing—well, not yet. But I brought you here for a similar reason.”
Seungmin reaches for your other hand, now holding both of them. “I love you so much. I know our time together hasn’t been the longest, but it seems like my heart has found its way back home. Honestly, I first thought that it was just because I was back in town, but eventually I realized that I felt at home with you too.” He caresses your knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe my heart knew where it belonged long before I did. I loved you back then, just like I love you now.”
You couldn’t help but genuinely tear up at Seungmin’s monologue. It was such a beautiful feeling to be loved, and you hoped that someday you could experience the same kind of love you acted with. “So, I’ll ask you this question,” Seungmin continued.
“Will you be mine?”
“Yes,” you sobbed out.
Seungmin lifts his hands to cup your crying face, bringing you closer to his own. The moment your lips connected felt so magical that you ended up leaning in more, savoring the moment with your fluttering heart. Seungmin reciprocates the act, kissing you with more emotion than he did just a second ago. His lips felt like smooth pillows, coaxing you to release all the tension you had left and rest—with him. Seungmin was being careful yet passionate at the same time, leaving you to drown in the sheer magnitude of the butterflies.
You couldn’t help but love every passing second that you were lost on his lips.
When you two pulled away due to the lack of air, he kept his forehead to yours, noses touching. The soft sound of both your laughter filled the surrounding area.
“Cut! That’s a wrap for today!” You hear everyone start cheering at Director Han’s words. Seungmin chuckles at them as he slowly steps back, missing the way your body followed after his warmth.
“Congratulations,” he says gently. You felt your heart skip a beat. “Your first on-screen kiss, done. How did I do?”
Oh, this was going to be dangerous for your heart.
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07 : SEVEN.
There’s been an empty feeling in your heart since yesterday that you were trying to ignore.
It was currently the day after you returned to the city. You watched the bustling streets of urban life filter through the car’s tinted windows while Changbin continued to drive you back home after a busy day in the company. Something you had never expected to happen was getting attached to the small countryside town you filmed in enough to miss it like this.
You felt it when you stepped out of the car yesterday to head back to your apartment—the polished concrete floors of the parking building suddenly felt foreign to you. The abundance of luxury cars was evident in the space, reminding you that you were once again in the city. It felt almost cold and lonely with the way you couldn’t see the hills you got used to seeing all day long. But it would do, you think to yourself.
The city could also be warm if you wanted it to be.
“Oh? I think they’re filming the first scenes of the movie in a building around here,” Changbin pointed out from the driver’s seat. “Minho mentioned this street a day ago.”
You raised a brow at his words. “Since when did you and Seungmin’s manager get so close?”
“Ever since you and his talent did,” Changbin snickers.
Heat rose to your face at your manager’s teasing. It was no secret to anyone who witnessed the movie’s shoot that you and Seungmin got extremely close after the fainting incident. You were sure that his efforts to stop the filming from continuing that day was also the talk of the town with the crew members. After all, who would go so far as to pay for rescheduling costs for their co-star? Sure, you and Seungmin were friends, but the two of you were barely talking in the first few days of the project. Anyone in their right mind would find his actions out of the blue—just like you did too.
Maybe it was just Seungmin’s way of making up for all the things you both went through. At first, it made you mad at how he flaunted his blatant disregard for the people affected by his decisions. The image of younger Seungmin came to mind, triggering the part of you that still held a slight resentment for what he did before. However, you found yourself slowly changing your mind as you two apologized to the crew members for the sudden decision, promising them swift and quality scenes the next day. As Seungmin walked you back to your inn’s room, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of happiness bubble in your stomach at the thought of someone caring enough to do this for you.
You watched as the evident signs of a film crew appeared in the distance, right in front of an office building. The same tents you’ve come to familiarize yourself with stood strong, indicating that this was indeed filming the same movie you were working on. It was already early in the evening, so they should be wrapping up any time soon. Should you stop by and say hello?
“Do you want to stop by and visit? You don’t have any schedules left for the rest of the evening,” Changbin suggests, getting ready to park near the building if you give confirmation.
Maybe you could repay Seungmin for his support over the past few days by visiting him. You smile at the thought of catching him off-guard.
“Sure, why not?”
The summer air of June was starting to make itself present despite already cooling significantly due to the sun saying its goodbyes an hour or two ago. Bright lights scattered across the vast street, a mixture of car lights, building lights, and streetlights morphing into the familiar image of a city that everyone knew. You walked towards the set peacefully, effectively going under the radar with a black mask covering your face. It was just a few steps more until you reached the barricade, when a familiar voice called out your name.
“Y/N?” Eunha squinted her eyes to determine if it really was you, only for you to watch them widen in surprise when her conclusion was proven correct. “Oh, it is you!”
You waved as you got closer. “Hi, Eunha. I saw you guys while passing by and thought I’d give you a visit,” you say shyly. Eunha beamed at your explanation.
“That’s so sweet of you; you’re always welcomed here!” She gives you a hug, quickly separating to drag you over the barricade. “Come on, I’ll show you to the others.”
Witnessing the set as a visitor was interesting. Despite the multiple people that greeted you on the way, it still felt as if you were an outsider with a V.I.P. pass to tour the set. Normally, you would be somewhere near the center, where the main scene was going to be shot. So staying back and watching the other crew members do their own things on the outskirts of that area was a new experience. In a way, you felt giddy like a child on a field trip.
“Actress Y/N is here!”
Eunha’s ecstatic voice traveled throughout the main area of the set, catching the attention of the directors, who had a figure you knew all too well standing right beside them. His eyes snapped up from the monitor D.O.P. Bang was showing him, eyes searching around for yours. Once he caught sight of your face, his eyes lit up.
“Y/N?”
If anyone asks, you totally weren’t checking him out. The clean black office suit he was wearing was incredibly flattering on his features, along with the formal brush-up the hairstylists put his hair in. You had only seen him with his hair down for the past few days—with his character supposedly portraying the look of someone who was comfortably back home to rest. And while that Seungmin was also objectively handsome, the way his hair was framing his face right now was stirring something more inside of you. Swallowing the feeling away, you straightened yourself.
“Hi, Seungmin.” You laughed. “Missed me?”
Seungmin abandoned his post with the directors and sped towards you. “Why are you here? It’s getting late,” he says, worried. Seungmin lets his eyes wander behind you for a second before a frown finds its way to his face. “And where’s that damned manager of yours?” You sighed at his obvious complaint.
“When are you going to let down on Changbin?” You say, unamused. “I swear, he means well. I came from the company, so he’s guarding the car since it’s just on hazard.”
“Still—” Seungmin tries to argue, only to be cut off by you waving your finger like he had been a bad child.
“Stop that. We talked about your coddling.”
He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Maybe I’d stop once you actually learn how to take care of yourself.”
A series of claps interrupted the conversation you two were having. “Okay, break it up, lovebirds,” Minho says while inserting himself between you two. “It’s so nice to see you again, Actress Y/N. But we have a crew celebration dinner to attend, so I’ll borrow Seungmin first over here.”
Your co-star resists his manager, staying firmly on spot to prove a point. “Wait, I’ll walk her back to her car first.” Minho gave him an odd look.
“What do you mean walk her back?” He questions. “She’s attending. You just need to get changed out of that suit.” It was your turn to look confused.
“Huh?”
That was how you suddenly found yourself sitting at a long barbecue restaurant table with the other female crew members, silently listening to their energetic conversations while downing as much meat as you could. You didn’t know if this was a curse or a blessing in disguise, but you would surely regret it if you didn’t make the most of what was handed to you. Free food is still free food, even if it was a sponteneous invitation from the directors.
“I’m so happy we finished filming!” The woman assigned to your makeup, Yerin, said aloud. “Now it's those computer bastards’ turn to slave away.”
You couldn’t help but feel guilty for a portion of her hardships. “Once again, I apologize for all the trouble I caused you on set.” You slightly bowed while still sitting. “Hopefully, it will be better the next time we get to work together.” Yerin only waved off your apology.
“Oh, please—don’t be such a worrywart! Having you on set was a delight,” she squeals. “Plus, we had a blast seeing the development between you and Actor Kim Seungmin.” Eunha’s face quickly turned into one of horror.
“Yerin!”
You paled at her words. “I’m sorry, what?”
What did she mean by that? The inside of your mind turned into a battlefield at Yerin’s implication. Your eyes immediately turned to search for Changbin, feeling the need to inform him of a possible issue in the near future. In your experience in the industry, scandals always started like this. You didn’t want this to affect Seungmin’s career negatively, so it was always better to prepare early than late.
“Don’t listen to her, Y/N,” Eunha frantically says, trying to get a hold of her co-worker. “She’s just drunk.”
Yerin pushed her hands away, albeit weakly. “Eunha, stop being such a party pooper,” she whines. “We all know they’re dating now. Oh, our crew has tight lips, though! We won’t sell you guys or something.” That didn’t ease the panic that had already formed in your stomach.
“We’re not dating.”
You could only watch as Yerin’s showed genuine shock at your revelation. “Wait, for real?” She gasps. “That’s too bad. You two look great together!”
“Yerin, seriously!”
“Sorry, I’ll just go get some fresh air.” You excused yourself as politely as you could before standing up to head out the front door.
The now-cooled air pricked at your skin, making you breathe a bit more easily than in the humid interior of the restaurant. You lowered yourself to the narrow road’s curbside, choosing to sit down and admire the quiet neighborhood’s lights. It felt a lot better out here than inside, making you feel guilty for not enjoying the celebration more than you should have as one of the main characters for the project.
If you had refused, it would’ve been a bad look. You didn’t have a schedule for the night to use as a reason, and lying to the people who gave you the opportunity to work on your biggest project yet was out of the question. At the same time, you think of what you would’ve been doing instead if you had said no to their dinner offer. Laying down in your apartment while eating takeout wasn’t such a bad scene. The sliding of the aged wooden door brought you out of your thoughts.
“See? Just what I said,” a monotonous voice pointed out. “No self-preservation skills whatsoever.”
You rolled your eyes at the comment. “It’s just the outside of a family-owned barbecue establishment, Seungmin. There’s practically no one out here at this time.”
“Does that not make it worse?” He gave you a look of disapproval, crouching down slowly to join you on the curbside. “You have a knack for making people worry, do you?”
“Then stop worrying!” You snapped—his words reminding you of the situation you had just fled from to find peace.
Seungmin raised his hands in surrender. “Woah,” he exclaims. “Alright, something is clearly wrong. Talk to me.”
You could only turn away, feeling yourself unable to face him. It was an awkward subject to bring up, and you told yourself that Yerin had already promised that the crew was tight-lipped. Objectively, there was nothing more left for you to worry about. Subjectively, the implication bothered you. Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows at your reaction.
“Hey,” he calls out softly. “Did someone say something to you back there? You know I can beat them up, right?”
You grimaced at his attempts to comfort you. “You’re so violent,” you frowned. “What if it was a woman?”
“Oh, then I’m out of that. Sorry.”
“So full of shit, that’s what you are.”
Seungmin chuckled. “And that I am,” he replies, amused. “But seriously, I’m all ears if you want.”
A bitter taste announced its presence on your tongue, your mind forming a whirlpool of thoughts once again. “Why? Since we’re friends?” You spat out.
The space around you turned silent with Seungmin’s lack of response. You fought the urge to give him a discrete glance, just to see the damage you created. It took a few more seconds of the evening breeze being the only one talking between you two before Seungmin eventually spoke up.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says in a low voice while running a hand through his hair to pull it back. His hairstyle from earlier was long gone, leaving you to wonder how he got rid of the hairspray so easily. “I actually don’t like that we’re friends.”
He watched as you deflated rapidly at his confession.
“Not in that way!” Seungmin splutters. “It’s just that I—ugh.” He brought up a palm to rub across his face.
Now, you were lost. The path of where the conversation was going became lost to you, making you stand in uncharted territory. Seungmin stayed silent for a few more seconds, trying to collect his thoughts. You let him have the time.
“You might curse at me for this or even put a distance between ourselves. But since this is our last day seeing each other on set until the movie’s release, I’ll take the chance now before I end up regretting I didn’t.”
“Seungmin, what—”
“The thought of staying just friends with you has been bothering me for a while now. It was like I was subjecting myself to my own personalized torture, where I couldn’t get away even if I tried. I’m still not sure what this entirely means for me—for us, but what I know is that platonic would never satisfy me at this rate.” He purses his lips, contemplating how to continue.
Eventually, Seungmin raised his head slightly to meet your eyes. “It’s odd. Admittedly, I’ve had my fair share of romantic relationships in the past, yet none of them could compare to what I was feeling now. At first, I thought it was just an obsession with you. Something that stemmed from my previous interest in you back at our senior level of academy—”
“You had a what?”
“I know,” he laughs humorlessly. “My friends used to tease me that I had a crush; that was why I was bothering you so much. Back then, I just brushed them off as jokes, telling them I only saw you as a rival. Well, look where that ended up.”
You were frozen in shock at his confession. “Seungmin,” you start. “I don’t know what to say.” He shakes his head.
“You don’t have to. Just let me have this moment to pour everything out,” he says. “Y/N, to put it into words, I feel at ease when I’m with you. At the same time, it always felt as if I was constantly worried about when it would end. That I would be left on my own again once you had finished your business with me. I tried to reason with myself, to put an acceptable distance between us in the case that what I had wasn’t the best for you. But I couldn’t do it, Y/N. Every time your voice entered my ears, it was like becoming a child. Unable to control their emotions and doing things without a second thought just because it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.” Seungmin looks up to the sky.
“That kiss we had—I think it was the happiest I’ve been in a while. It might have been just a job to you, because you could say it really was, but for me, it was finally a chance to express everything I had been holding back for the past few days. All I want you to remember is that nothing from that act was faked,” he exhales. “I really don’t think this is something you feel for a friend, so—”
“Let’s see where this takes us.”
“—What?”
“I’m not sure how you expect me to top what you just told me, but I’ll try with my own words.” You teased him with a genuine smile. “Seungmin, I feel strikingly similar to what you feel about me. Just maybe not as intensely yet.”
You let yourself move at the need to cup his face as he continues to look at you in shock. “I’m sure you already know that I spent quite a long time hating your guts, so the fact that I even started to feel an attraction towards you was shocking, to say the least. I was never one to believe in fictional tropes, despite my lifelong yearning to experience a love like that even once. As an actor, I’ve made a career out of acting those scenes out for people to see. But also as an actor, I knew more than anyone else how much real life would never be able to compare to the scripts I’ve seen brought to life on set. They were methodological, a feeling so carefully put together to achieve its maximum potential—real life isn’t like that.” You inhale deeply.
“Things happen for no reason, like they don’t for no reason either. And in a way, I felt both with you.” Your hands lowered themselves towards his hands to hold them tightly. “Enemies-to-lovers? It was laughable at first, but as the days went on, everything just fell into place as if it always belonged there. You feel like a child in front of me? I feel like I’ve never felt warmth in my entire life until you came along. When I first got out of the car yesterday, it was only then that I described urban life as cold and lonely in my entire life. I thought that maybe it was because I got too attached to the homey feel of the countryside that everything I’ve ever known somehow became foreign in a few days. But maybe it was just because of you.”
You found yourself giggling at the dumbfounded look he still had on his face, mind slow to take in what was happening in front of him. “What I’m saying is that I would love to see where this takes us. Right now, you can’t expect me to fall in love all of a sudden, especially considering our past. Though if you try hard enough, perhaps that might be just around the corner. What do you say?” Seungmin finally broke free from his trance, eyes watering.
“I’ll show you hard work that you’ve never seen before in your life.”
“And I believe it.” You pinch his cheek before standing up. “Now, let’s go back inside? The party is still ongoing.”
Seungmin clumsily follows, calling out just in time before you opened the door. “Wait—I still don’t have your number.” You gave him an astounded stare.
“Seriously?” You breathe out. “We went through all that, and we still don’t have each other’s numbers?”
Seungmin voices out his offense. “Well, I’m sorry that I was missing all my shots!”
“So, does that mean you’re gonna take a shot now, loverboy?”
“For you, yes.”
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taglist 🔖— thank you for waiting ! 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @feelikecinderella @abbiestearsricochet @heelovesmeknot @floating-moon-dust @yoontaethings @hwangism143 @jazziesssss @hwangflora @vixensss @yourlocalstayyxi @dollce-exe @bambispostsblog @authentic-65 @dandelions-143
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midnightsxblue · 2 days
Text
VIRGINITY (PART TWO)
carl grimes x fem!reader
tags: p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t recommend yall)
masterlist here!
read part one here!
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─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
The day you lost your virginity, everything seemed so…weird. Rick and Michonne had planned to go on a run for a couple of days and the two of you were left with Judith. You’d both asked for advice from Glenn and Maggie and while you got some pretty good advice, Carl got an awkward conversation and a condom.
This was your chance. That morning, you and Carl woke up early to say goodbye to them. “The two of you are gonna be here with Judith, okay? I have Daryl sort of keepin an eye on you so behave.” Rick tells you, packing some cans of food from the pantry into his bag. You look to Carl with sort of an annoyed look. He returns the same.
“Understand?” You both turn to Rick and nod. “Yeah we got it.” Carl replies. Now you had to figure out a way to get Daryl off your back as well. “I trust ‘em.” Michonne approaches from behind you, putting her hand on your shoulder while giving you a smile. You smile at her back, knowing you’re kinda lying to her. But you’re a horny teenager. You gotta do what you gotta do.
“Well…I’m sure they appreciate that. We gotta go.” Rick tells Michonne, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He makes his way through the house, the rest of you following after. You give them their hugs and say goodbye. Once the door slams shut, Judith starts crying. Screaming at the top of her fucking lungs.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hold your head in your hands, unprepared for the headache about to overtake your brain. “Hey, don’t be stressed. We can use this to our advantage.” Carl smiles and picks up Judith as she sobbed, also grabbing a couple toys before walking out the front door. You watch him walk all the way over to the armory to hand her off to Olivia.
When he disappeared into the faraway house, you turned around to find something to do. When you do turn around, you’re met with Daryl. “Jesus what the fuck!” You practically jump back, Daryl just looks at you like you’re crazy. “Don’t do that, holy shit- where did you come from!?” You put your hand over your heart and try your best to catch your breath. “The back door.” He just stares at you till you’re done. You finally catch your breath.
“Do I seriously need to watch over the two of ya or can I go work on my bike?” He asks, you sort of hesitate for some odd reason, you felt bad for lying. “We’ll be fine. Probably gonna make some soup or something and I might go to the range later. I dunno what he’ll do, probably clean his gun.” You shock yourself with how elaborate that lie was. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see ya.” He made his way out the front door.
─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───
A little later, Carl came back and met with you in your guys’ room where you were changing. He closed the door behind him and you turn around to smile at him, your shirt sliding off your arms. “Whatcha doing?” You ask with an endearing smile. He walks a bit closer. “Looking at you.” You giggle at his response. “You mean watching me change? That’s a bit perverted don’t you think?” You rummage through your closet for another shirt.
“I don’t think so.” He slowly comes up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist. He lodges his face into the crook of your neck where begins to plant harsh kisses. “Stop looking.” He tells you, lowering your arms from the clothes you had in your hand. You turn to face him and he smiles once you do. “You’re so pretty.” He puts his hand up to hold your cheek while he pulls you in for another kiss. This one was soft, the kind of kiss that really meant something. A feeling in your stomach told you things would only get better from here.
The kisses continue, only getting more intense and eventually his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a small moan and you can feel him smile at that as he kissed you even more. You feel him pull you a little and you follow, your mouths still intertwined. He quickly spins you and plops you on the bed. He seemed confident on the outside, little did you know he was extremely nervous. You sit back with your arms propping you up and he leans in to kiss you again, his hands going straight to the buttons of your jeans. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he starts to tug them off you, standing to discard his own shirt as well.
Looking at him like this drives you insane. His messy hair, swollen lips, and the very obvious boner confined by his jeans. You were both scared and excited. Carl on the other hand was just really fucking horny. He got on the bed above you, one of his knees between your legs rutting against your clothed cunt. You let out yet another small moan and this prompts him to pull away and reach around to your back to unfasten your bra. Or try at least.
He was new to this, you can’t blame him. He fiddles with the clasp in a frustrated manner. “I just wanna see you.” He frowns, upset at himself for not being able to successfully take your bra off. You look at him with a sly smile. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours, his hand freezing in place as he accepted defeat. “Could you help me please?” He has a defeated tone and you laugh, undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. While you did so, he worked on undressing you completely and then you waited for him to undress himself.
You’d palmed him once, you knew he wasn’t small but christ. Now you were definitely nervous. He smiled at you, basking in your beauty before leaning down to kiss a trail all the way from your stomach, up to your chest, to your neck. He was so unbelievably happy. He leaned back up to kiss you some more, his hand wandering down to your thigh, pulling it up. Your other thigh moves up instinctively and he pulls away to look down to actually do this.
He holds your legs at the back of your knees while guides himself to where he believes is the right spot. Glenn was a fucking liar. He has no idea what he’s doing. Maggie was right. Jesus this was so awkward. “Um…i-is this right or-” He stutters hoping you’d know how to guide him. You did, you helped him but not without accidentally sliding his tip against your clit, extracting a sharp moan from the both of you. Once he found your hole, he looked at you before slowly pushing into you.
Your mouth drops slightly at the feeling, his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “This okay?” He asked quietly, stopping to hear your response. “Mhm s’fine just keep going slow.” He nodded and kept pushing, eventually bottoming out. He was breathing heavily, and you were too but he seemed to be on another planet. “A-are you okay?” You sort of giggle. His eyes are shut and he nods. “Just really tight that’s all.” He says breathlessly, gripping your thighs like he was never gonna let go. “Mkay. you can start moving if-if you’re ready.”
Well he’s been ready. He begins to slowly stroke in and out of you, he opens his eyes and leans down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth and you wrap your arms around him. He props himself up to hover over you, still pressing his length into your now, sopping heat. He leans his head back into your neck, moaning against your skin while you leave indents on his back from your nails. “You’re so good, so warm n wet. l-love you s-so much. Please.” He rambled, not even sure why he was saying please.
You could only moan in response, muttering a small “I love you too”back. He started to thrust a bit faster, his pace only increasing. It got to the point where you couldn’t even speak. You could tell he was close to cumming, you were too. Everything felt so good, his affection was only making it ten times better. He was so sweet with you, he really wanted you to feel good and not just him. You were glad he was the one taking your virginity.
“Carl-f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, your nails digging into his skin deeper than before which causes him to groan. “Mhm me too.” His voice sounds somewhat strained. You clench around him before cumming all over his cock, him following soon after. He bottoms out inside of you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly, causing you to both moan loudly.
He smiles satisfactorily, pulling you into his embrace while he breathes heavily. “You’re so perfect.” He presses a kiss to your jaw and smiles against your skin. “You are. I feel so good.” You say basically astounded, reaching your hand up to rest in his hair. You spend a moment, just breathing and enjoying the afterglow.
Suddenly, Carl pulls away from your neck, and looks up as if he had heard something. You eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“What is it?”
“We forgot the condom.”
─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
a/n: ok cuz i’m scared and nervous to post this but imma do it anyway THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT i hope it’s okayyy i feel like it was so sped up and im mad about it but let’s ignore that 0-0 hope you like ittttttttttt (im so scared right now you shut up)
ppl to tag: @zomb-1-egutzz
(sorry if u didn’t wanna be tagged for this LMAO)
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Text
“By the way, here’s your jacket.”
You shrug it off and offer it up to him, but instead of taking it, Rafayel only raises a brow.
“You can keep it.” He shrugs. “I have like five more in that same style.”
“No.” Your voice is firm, and your eyes are trained on him so that he knows you’re serious. Shaking the jacket a little aggressively, you insist. “Take it.”
Now thoroughly weirded out, he takes it from you, giving it a little brush over as though to examine for any evidence of tampering. When he realizes there’s nothing, he looks back at you dubiously.
“You’ve had this for maybe a month now. Why the sudden change of heart to give it back?”
“No reason,” you huff quietly, trying to avoid his gaze. There has to be a level of pride preserved with this man, and it won’t be preserved if you simply tell him everything.
Rafayel checks the pockets now, turning them inside out and face brightening when he finds a little chocolate. Without even asking you if you would like it (it was your chocolate in the first place!) he unwraps it and pops it in his mouth.
“Something’s up. I don’t really like the idea that you consider this out of fashion.” A pouty little frown forms on his face. “Nothing I own is ugly, just so you know.”
“You’re so dramatic. It’s not ugly. Just…y’know, take it back, wear it a bit, and maybe I’ll borrow it again later.”
“Huh?” His brows crinkle. “So you do want it? Then why even give it back? I’ll telling you you can have it.”
“Ugh—“ You cut yourself off with a quiet growl, glaring at him and his stupid questioning eyes. Pretty boys are such a dangerous breed; they truly can make you do anything.
“It doesn’t smell like you anymore, okay?”
There’s a pause after you finally confess, but as soon as the words register, Rafayel grins.
“Shut up shut up shut up—“
He tosses the jacket to the floor, then takes your hands and tugs you to him, cutting you off with a soft kiss. With a defeated but happy sigh, you run your hands from his shoulders down to his chest, melting under his touch. He’s so very gentle with you, it would make you angry if it didn’t make you smitten. He tastes like the chocolate he stole from you.
“Meri jaan,” he mumbles into the kiss, apparently unable to break it even to speak properly, “you don’t have to wait for me to wear it. You can have any of my jackets. Any of my clothes—any item in my house.” He keeps smiling against your lips, while his hands circle around you to hold you close. “Everything I own is yours, as am I.”
And well, you have to kiss him a little more after a statement like that. A little more, a little deeper, a little closer, though you could never get close enough.
By the time you leave the house, there’s not a single part of you that doesn’t have his scent. And as much as you’d like to have complaints with that, you find that you’re too happily snuggled up in your new cardigan to be able to come up with any.
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norr1ssturni0lo · 15 hours
Text
Grand Prix Winner
Lando Norris x wife!reader
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Word count: 1k
Warnings: none I don’t think
Summary: landos wife and daughter experience his first win with him in Miami alongside and their 2 best friends Rochelle and Max.
A/N: don’t come at me for erasing Pietra, I love her but it made more sense to have Rochelle instead of Pietra
❗️semi proofread❗️
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Y/N stood in the bustling McLaren garage alongside her long time best friend and McLaren social media manager, Rochelle, and Rochelle’s boyfriend Max Fewtrell, they all stood staring up at the tv screen in the garage, suited with a pair of headphones on their heads listening in on the team radio for Y/N’s husband, Lando. Holding Y/N’s hand was her and Lando’s 2 year old daughter, Amelia, her brown curly locks bouncing as she bounced in excitement seeing her father currently in P1 on lap 40, Y/N beside them biting her nails, praying that Max wouldn’t close the almost 3 second gap between him and Lando and overtake him.
‘Come on mate! Keep up the pace!’ Y/N heard Max exclaim from beside her, she gave the curly haired boy a quick glance before her Y/E/C eyes focused back on the screen displaying the race.
‘dada winner?’ Amelia asked curiously looking up between her mum and Rochelle her godmother ‘almost sweetheart, he’s almost done it’ Rochelle replied to the 2 year old, the blonde woman picked Amelia up and rested her on her hip so she had a better view of the tv.
*little time skip to end of race*
‘Norris trumps Verstappen and wins a Grand Prix for the first time in his career!’ The entire garage erupted into cheers and celebration at the words spoken and the crew members running out to the pit lane ready to congratulate Lando, Max and Rochelle included, Y/N stayed behind for the safety of Amelia. The two girls had their own little celebration for their favourite man. Tears streamed down Y/N’s face in happiness and the toddler in her arms squeezed her mothers cheeks and yelled ‘DADDY WIN!!’ ‘Yeah baby! Daddy won! Should we go find him?’ The little girl nodded her head vigorously and Y/N chuckled at her, she removed her headphones and made her way out to the pit lane with Amelia on her hip. She spotted Lando and Zak coming out of a hug and Lando made his way to Andrea, him and the older man opened their arms wide and smiled as they embraced eachother.
Zak made his way over to Y/N. ‘Hey you two. Has he seen you yet?’ The man asked as he gently grabbed Amelia’s hand, cheering gently with her as smiles stretched across both of their faces. ‘Not yet, didn’t want Amelia to get overwhelmed or anything with a-‘ she got cut off with an ear piercing screech of ‘DADDYY!!!’ leaving the 2 year olds mouth as she squirmed in the grown woman’s arms, itching to go hug her father.
Lando heard the scream and looked in the direction, his eyes locked with the eyes that he fell in love with 2 years ago, the same blue shade as his own, he sprinted over to his little girl and his wife, immediately throwing his arms around his favourite girls in the world.
‘Hi my girls’ he softly muttered, voice slightly wavery from all the emotion he felt. He looked at Y/N with the same fondness in his eyes as when they first met 5 years ago. ‘You did it my love! I’m so proud of you!’ Y/N grinned at him, he returned the smile immediately. Amelia patted Lando’s cheek and gave him a gappy smile and stretched in her mother’s arms wanting to be held by the curly haired male, Y/N passed her over to him and he immediately took her in his arms and gave his daughter a big hug ‘well done dada I proud’ Amelia spoke in her 2 year old babble, Lando became even more emotional if that was possible as he replied to the toddler ‘thank you my baby that means so much to me.’ Y/N joined the two and smiled with her husband and daughter. From afar, Rochelle caught the whole moment between the little family.
Rochelle was off taking photos for the team social media and Max made his way to his best friends and goddaughter, he took Amelia in his arms to allow Y/N and Lando to have a moment alone before he had to leave to stand on the top step of the podium. Lando silently thanked Max. As soon as Amelia was out of his arms, he immediately wrapped Y/N in a hug, nestling his nose in the crook of her neck. ‘I actually did it baby! I can’t believe it!’ He muttered, voice cracking slightly and muffled by her neck. She lifted his head and cupped his cheeks ‘yes you did Lan. I’m so so proud of you, you have no idea’ she replied, just as emotional as her husband, she stood on her tip toes and kissed him, Lando swiftly reciprocated the kiss as the couple smiled into the kiss. As they left the kiss, Lando rested his forehead against her forehead ‘I couldn’t have done it without my good luck charms here, my girls, cheering me on’ he whispered to his wife. He gave Y/N a final quick kiss on the lips before leaving to go to the podium.
*time skip to podium*
Y/N watched in anticipation as Charles and Max made their way over to their respective steps on the podium. Y/N cheered alongside the rest of the McLaren team as Lando skipped out and stood on the top step, she felt tears coming to her eyes which Rochelle noticed her tears ‘they better be happy tears missy’ the slightly older girl laughed ‘no I’m sad because max didn’t win, of course they’re happy tears you muppet’ Y/N replied as she laughed along with her, Amelia giggling at her mum and godmother.
Y/N looked up at her husband on the top step of the podium as he threw his head back as he took in the cheers of his name and the sound of the British national anthem, she looked at him with the proudest smile on her face, he was finally on the top step where he belongs, she thought to herself.
BONUS INSTA POST:
Y/USER
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Liked by: landonorris, maxfewtrell, rochelleelizabethrose and others
Y/USER: Lando Nowins? Who’s he?🤭 YOU DID IT!! I’m so proud of you my love! A long time coming and you finally achieved your dream of being a Grand Prix winner! Me and Amelia are so so proud of you!🧡🧡🧡
P.S thank you Rochelle for capturing the picture of me Lan and Amelia, we love you😘and enjoy Lando stealing my phone in the last slide😂
tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell, mclaren, rochelleelizabethrose
comments:
landonorris: couldn’t of done it without my lucky charms by my side! Thank you so much darling! I love you and Amelia so much🧡also the last photo is the best sweetheart😌
liked by creator❤️
mclaren: our winner!! Well done Lando🧡
liked by: landonorris, y/user
maxfewtrell: never a doubt, so proud brother landonorris🧡
liked by: landonorris, y/user
rochelleelizabethrose: congrats Lando! So so proud of you🧡and you’re welcome babes! Gotta capture the cute moments😘
liked by: landonorris, y/user
masonmount: congrats brother👏🏻
liked by: landonorris, y/user
oscarpiastri: well done man👏👏👏
liked by: landonorris, y/user
ameliadimz: yay!❤️ chicken shop charm worked once again 😉😂
liked by: landonorris, y/user
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Text
After So Long
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.7k
Warnings: angst
Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.
Between Love and Hate Masterlist
Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
Then
It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.
“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.
“On me or you?” Bucky joked.
“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”
Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.
“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.
“It’s a precaution, pisică.”
You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.
“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”
“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”
“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”
“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”
“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.
Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.
“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”
He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.
Now
You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.
Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.
Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.
“Pisică--”
“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.
“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”
“Bite me.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”
You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”
“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”
“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”
Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.
“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”
“Not really?”
He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.
Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.
He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.
“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”
Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.
She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.
“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”
A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.
“Sir!”
Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.
“I am so sorry.”
“Ex-boyfriend?”
“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”
She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.
“Boss?”
“Did you see her run out?”
“Yes.”
“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.
“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”
“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”
You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.
You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.
You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.
“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”
Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.
Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.
“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”
You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!
Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.
“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.
Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car. 
“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.
Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.
Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.
It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.
Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.
“I love you so much,” he whispers.
He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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azzifudd · 11 hours
Text
possession
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: four times paige & azzi knew they belonged to each other
rated: teen
2.5k words
disclaimer: many made up events obviously
[AO3 LINK]
The ball swishes through the net, nearly soundless in the empty gym. Azzi has been taking shots for the past three minutes. She hasn’t missed yet.
She had arrived at the UConn campus only 15 minutes ago, to surprise Paige for her birthday, and after nearly five minutes of hugging, that Azzi is sure Paige would’ve turned into more if her parents had been there, she had been dragged to the gym where the other girls were in recovery after a strenuous practice.
Paige had left her in the gym, promising to be back soon with the others, and Azzi had picked up a ball to pass the time. As she takes another jumpshot, one of the doors bangs open and she flinches. Her shot goes wide, bouncing off the back of the rim.
Two boys have entered the gym, and Azzi vaguely recognizes them. One of them rebounds her ball and brings it over to her.
“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Andre. I’m on the men’s basketball team.”
She’s heard Paige mention him once or twice.
“Y’know if you want any pointers with your jumper, I could help you out.” His eyes run over her, from head to toe.
“What’s your name?” He asks, overeager.
“Azzi,” she replies, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
“Dude, that’s Azzi. Bueckers’ girl.” His friend has come up beside them, after hearing Azzi introduce herself.
Azzi feels a flush overtake her entire body. Part of her almost wants to be offended that this boy, on one of the top college teams in the nation, didn’t recognize her. She’s the number one high school player in the nation, and it’s not even close. But another part of her, a bigger part of her, loves that so many miles away from home, a complete stranger hears her name and knows she’s Paige’s.
“Oh shit, you’re Paige’s Azzi. Azzi Fudd!” Andre covers his mouth and groans. “I was trying to teach you how to shoot.”
His teammate cackles beside him, slapping him on the back. “She’s been in three point contests with Steph Curry, my guy, I think she’s good.”
“Damn, that’s embarrassing. I’m so sorry.”
She smiles up at him, now charmed by the whole thing. “It’s cool, I didn’t know who you were either.”
“Oh! She got your ass.” His friend laughs again before turning to her and introducing himself. “I’m James.”
“Azzi.” They shake hands.
“Like I said, I know. PB does not shut up about you.” He does a quick dribble behind his back before pulling up into a smooth jump shot that swishes through the net. “We’ll be shooting around after practice and it’s ‘Oh, Azzi never would have missed that shot. She’s the hardest worker I know.”
“You shoulda seen her a few months ago. Always tapping away on that iPad, putting together clips.”
Azzi remembers the video that Paige had so proudly shown to her family. How silly, and sweet, and how Paige it had been. It makes Azzi even more excited for dinner tonight, where she will finally get to tell Paige that she is committing to UConn.
The door pushes open again, and this time it’s Paige who rushes over to them, throwing an arm around Azzi’s neck.
“Hey, these losers bothering you?” Paige asks, laughter clear in her voice. But Azzi knows that it would only take one word from her to set her off if Azzi asked.
“No, they’ve been cool,” she says.
“Well, Coach heard you were here and wanted to say hi. See you guys later.” Paige leads Azzi deeper into the facility.
And if they’re a little late to meet everyone because Azzi pulls Paige into a secluded broom closet for some alone time, no one needs to know but them.
//
Azzi’s sprinting around the top of the court, rounding one screen and then another, trying desperately to get open. She’s open for a split second, and that’s all it takes for Paige to hit her with the pitch perfect pass. She rises to take the three that could tie the game when a body barrels into her legs.
She hits the floor hard. A whistle blows as the referee calls what Azzi hopes is a shooting foul. She stays on the floor for a moment longer, catching her breath, when suddenly the arena erupts in noise.
Whistles blow, and she finally looks up to see a furious Paige being pulled back by their teammates as one of the referees signals a technical foul. She is spitting furiously at an opposing player. Nika is at her side, simultaneously holding her back from causing more trouble for them and firing Croatian insults at the other team.
Azzi won’t find out until someone shows her the footage after the game, but Paige had stormed over the moment she was fouled and had pushed the offending player with two hands to the chest.
The referee points off the court. Paige has been ejected.
Coach has run over, screaming as the officials struggle to get everything under control. Aaliyah runs over to help Azzi up.
“Paige! Get your ass over here, now!” Geno’s voice somehow booms over the raucous Gampel crowd.
Paige throws her arms up, shrugging their teammates off of her. Satisfied that she has calmed down, everyone begins to back off. But instead of heading off the court like she’s supposed to, she makes a beeline for Azzi, who is still slightly shaken but standing.
Paige raises a hand as if to touch Azzi’s face, but she stops, recognizing where they are. She rests the hand on her shoulder instead.
“You good?” She asks, voice hoarse from shouting.
Azzi nods, still breathing hard. “Why did you do that, you idiot.” But even as she asks, she knows the answer.
Paige smiles crookedly. It is soft despite the noise around them, tender in a way Azzi knows Paige saves just for her.
“Bueckers!” Geno roars. They know if he could storm the court for her, he would have already.
“Go,” Azzi says. “I’ll see you after I win this game.”
“That’s my girl.” Paige leaves the court with a smirk on her face, cheers of her name following her.
Azzi sinks the free throws to send them to overtime. And when they end up winning by eight, even Geno can’t complain too much.
@bueckersbuckets35 it’s bullshit that paige had to apologize. they were targeting azzi all game. bet she’d do it again in a heartbeat if she had to
Paige Bueckers liked this tweet.
//
“That layup you had in the third!” Paige mimes a euro step, mimics taking a shot with her left hand. “Left hand, baby, bang!”
Hailey van Lith laughs at Paige’s antics, pushing at her playfully. “I mean, it wasn’t enough to get the win against you guys, but it’s always a good time pulling up against you.”
Even if they didn’t talk all the time, it feels like there would always be a special connection between all the girls who had played together for USA Basketball.
Hailey glances around. “How’s the wifey been? I didn’t get a chance to talk with her at the arena.”
Paige grins at that. She knows Hailey means it as a joke, that they are way too young to even think about marriage, but there is always something deeply satisfying for Paige to hear someone acknowledge that she is Azzi's and Azzi is hers.
“She’s doing aight. Her surgery went well. It’s just a shit deal y’know.” There have been plenty of tear filled nights for them both since Azzi had experienced the freak injury, but now Azzi’s ready to move forward, and Paige will be there every step of the way, like Azzi was for her.
Hailey smiles apologetically. “I was really sorry to hear about it. I remember you could never shut up about playing with her.”
“Thank you.” They both jump when Azzi pops up beside them. She gives Hailey a quick hug hello before turning to Paige.
She’s surprised when Azzi wraps her arms around her waist, tucking herself under Paige’s arm, pressing their bodies together.
They are no strangers to PDA. In fact, if Paige had her way, she would never stop touching Azzi. But the younger girl is usually more reluctant around people she doesn’t know, and with Hailey’s teammates around, it is a surprise to see her so affectionate.
Paige isn’t going to complain. She tightens her arm around Azzi’s shoulder and presses a quick kiss to her temple. She catches a whiff of alcohol on her breath. That explains the touchiness.
They chat with Hailey for a bit longer, but when Azzi begins to zone out mid convo, Paige excuses them both and walks them up to Azzi’s apartment.
“She’s so pretty.”
“Huh?” Paige pauses as she wipes the last of Azzi’s makeup from her face as they stand in the bathroom together.
“Hailey. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Paige shrugs. “Mm, I guess so.” She moves in closer, nose pressing into Azzi’s head, breathing in the scent of her. “Let’s go to bed.”
Azzi doesn’t say anything else until they’re tucked in together in her bed.
“You were talking to her for a long time.”
“Huh?” Paige groans into the back of Azzi’s neck, already half asleep. When she finally registers the words, she replies, “Who?”
“Hailey,” she replies, like Paige should know exactly what she’s talking about.
“We were just catching up. It’s been a while.” Paige presses a kiss to the side of Azzi’s neck, ready to fall asleep.
“Do you miss playing with her?”
“Dude, what are you talking about?” Paige props herself up on her elbow, turning Azzi onto her back to face her. She softens at the look on her girl’s face.
She presses a soft kiss to the dimple in Azzi’s cheek. And then she kisses her nose, her forehead, and all over her face until she’s smiling.
“Hey,” Paige says, making sure Azzi is looking into her eyes as she speaks. “You’ll be back. Best player in the nation, baby.”
Azzi pulls her into a deep kiss that still sends Paige’s head spinning and heart racing even after they have shared so many. When they pull apart, they are both breathless.
“Me and you.” Azzi’s eyes are shining and clear.
“You and me.” Paige gives Azzi a roguish grin and lets her pull her down once more.
//
“Yo, where’s P?” KK asks, scanning the room. It’s Senior Night, and they’re all getting dressed for the game. Even Azzi has just slipped into a jersey, even though she isn’t playing tonight.
“The seniors are on the court already. I think they had to do a run through of the ceremony. Why?”
Azzi is suspicious. KK looking for Paige is always a sign of something potentially stress inducing on the way.
“Oh, no reason, I just wanna make sure I’m outta the way when Daddy Paige sees you in her jersey for the first time.” KK cackles, ducking out of the way of the towel that Azzi flings at her.
“Nah, we all know there’s no way this is the first time she’s worn it.” Ice chimes in.
“Shut up,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes, glad that the fluorescent lights hide her blush. Surprisingly, she hasn’t worn Paige’s jersey since they were in high school, and even though she’d never admit it to her teammates, she is very excited to see how Paige reacts to it.
The injured players head into the arena just before tip off. The place is packed with fans there to celebrate the players who have given their all for UConn.
Besides that though, the media presence is palpable. The entire basketball world is waiting to hear whether Paige is staying or declaring. Azzi has known for weeks that Paige has decided to stay at UConn for another season. She has unfinished business, and even if they won the title this season, her injuries have robbed her of too much time here.
Azzi feels eyes on her as soon as they get into the open. She has been linked to Paige since before they even came here, so everyone is clearly gauging her mood on such an important night. She could try to play it more coy, but she can’t fight the smile on her face when she sees Paige warming up.
She’s getting one more year with her person. One more chance to fulfill the promise they made to each other when she chose UConn. She’s so happy.
Azzi waves up into the stands where hers and Paige’s family sit together, all wearing Bueckers gear. Drew jumps up and down when she makes a heart with her hands in his direction.
She’s stepping onto the court when she feels it. Goosebumps pimple her skin and she turns to where the majority of the team is casually warming up.
Paige stands at midcourt, staring at her, slack jawed. Azzi smiles coyly at her when Paige takes a step toward her, only to be stopped by CD who is standing next to her with a clipboard and an eyeroll.
Azzi just laughs and goes to take a few shots near the others. She isn’t close to being cleared to play, but she misses it so much. Even just being on the court during game days can be emotional lately. Soon, she feels a heated presence at her back.
Azzi turns around and finds Paige standing close. Too close for such a public place, but she can’t bring herself to move. Paige runs her eyes up and down Azzi’s body, lingering on where the number five splays proudly over her chest.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You tryin’ to get me in trouble?” Paige asks, voice low.
“Just wanted to support my favorite player.” Azzi looks up at Paige from beneath her lashes, and finds those blue eyes fixated on her lips.
“She must be pretty damn good if she’s your favorite.”
Azzi watches the muscles in Paige’s arms and shoulders flex as she links her hands behind her back, stopping herself from reaching out to touch.
“She’s not bad.” Azzi smirks. “Could use some work on her shooting stroke though.”
Paige scoffs. “I’ll show you my str-”
Two arms suddenly wrap around their shoulders as KK comes barreling into them.
“K, what the hell?” Paige pushes at her as they fight to stay steady on their feet.
“Yo, mom and dad, y’all have got to tone it down.”
KK smiles at them. “Media girl is on the way for some pics and P looks like she’s about to jump you.”
Azzi flushes as they all separate.
“What would y’all do without me though, seriously.”
KK strikes a ridiculous pose, distracting the media girl so Paige and Azzi can rearrange themselves into a more platonic pose.
Azzi hopes no one can see how flustered she is when Paige whispers in her ear to keep the jersey on for after the game.
They take a few quick pictures before it’s time for tip off. It’s an easy win, everyone playing with joy and anticipation of the celebration after the game.
For a moment, Azzi feels deeply sad. She wants to be out there, next to her girls.
But then the final buzzer sounds, and Azzi watches Paige bask in the attention of the crowd who loves her almost as much as Azzi does, and forgets everything but the beaming smile on Paige’s face.
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lisbeth-kk · 2 days
Text
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May Prompts
Today's prompt is: choice
The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 10)
Summary: Sherlock shows Rosie his literate treasure, and Rosie muses about her bedroom at her grandparent's.
Ten Years Old
My favourite thing in the summertime, was to read outdoors. It still is. In London it was not as easy to achieve as it was at my grandparents. At home, I had to go to a park and pack a rucksack with all I needed, but at Pops and Granny’s house, I could just bring the blanket and my book outside to the lawn, and I reached the perfect reading spot in under a minute. If I needed the loo, or something to drink or a snack, it was within comfortable reach.
“You can’t bring more than a few books this time, love. Taking the train, remember,” Dad said when he saw the pile of books on my bed, looking more and more like the leaning tower of Pisa.
“But, Dad, I’ll be there for over a week,” I protested.
My greatest fear was to run out of books to read. Papa assured me that no such thing would occur.
“My old room is filled with books, Bee. And the library downstairs contains quite a few interesting volumes as well.”
How could I know if any of my grandparents' books were to my liking.
“Don’t worry. You’ll like them,” Papa assured me, even if I’d uttered no word about my doubts.
I opened my mouth to protest again, but when Dad cleared his throat in that way, I dropped it.
“Fine,” I said and turned to my book tower to consider which to bring and which to leave behind.
In the end I chose Heidi by Johanna Spyri and one of the Grimm fairytales volumes, which were placed in my bag, and after that I became increasingly curious about which books I would find in Papa’s childhood home.
***
Both me and Papa were beside ourselves when we finally arrived at my grandparents. Me, over being there again, Papa because he was eager to show me all the literate treasures the house could provide.
“I’ll help with tea while these two explore the bookshelves,” Dad offered his mother-in-law.
She made a shooing gesture towards us, and Papa ushered me upstairs.
I hadn’t really looked around Papa’s old room before. It was his and Dad’s room now. Uncle and my grandparents obviously had their own rooms, while I occupied what was called the maid’s room, which clearly was a lie. The room had a femininity about it, but it was too comfortably furnished to be a servant’s quarters, and I knew from Papa’s own mouth that the room hadn’t been redecorated for me. It had always been like that. 
For every passing year, I wanted to ask if there’d been another little girl who’d lived in that room, but something stopped me. There was no evidence other than my own suspicions. The only photographs in the house with a little girl in them, were of me. 
Papa called me over to the bookshelf and I decided to let the mystery go for now.
All the books Papa had laid on the bed, sounded exciting, and I wanted to read all of them at once.
Treasure Island. Around the World in Eighty Days. Robinson Crusoe. The Lord of the Flies. The Courier of the Czar. The Story of Marco Polo. Anne Frank’s Diary. The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar.
“Pops and Granny can show you around in the library if you need it later,” Papa said.
“Not sure that’ll be necessary with all of these,” I said excitedly. “Can you help me choose? The Story of Marco Polo or…”
“Time for lunch, bookworms!” Dad shouted from downstairs.
“Coming! I’m starving,” I shouted back, and forgot all about impossible literature choices.
Papa chuckled and mumbled something about Watsons and their insatiable appetite.
Also available on AO3
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels
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sehodreams · 1 day
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oh okay<3☺️☺️
this all i got. i blacked out. lemme know if u have any more insight into how he would be😭😭
sungchan would love the contrast of his slim, athletic body against your plush figure, he wouldn’t be able to help himself from grabbing your tits and tummy and ass, all the time, he’d constantly be all over you, and if he was feeling mean he’d be in your ear whispering nasty things to make you flustered<333. sungchan taking you to a party with his friends, you’re dressed in a tight little red dress he picked out for you, breasts spilling over the top lacey cups, almost to an embarrassing point, but he told you that you looked great and not to worry about it, all of the other girls there will be wearing equally revealing clothes, but when you get there, you’re overly self conscious of how your dress does not fit you properly, especially when sungchan brings you to greet his friends, eunseok, and anton and both of them don’t look away from your chest for even a second while they mumble “hellos” and “there’s beer in the kitchen” so sungchan takes you into the kitchen to get himself a drink and he pours you a shot and tells you to drink it, you sniff at it, asking him what it is, “it’s alcohol, doll” and he tilts the base of the glass up to force you to open your mouth to drink it down, you take it like a champ but you whine after, wiping your mouth and complaining how it burns. sungchan gives your ass a smack, and pulls you in closer to him by your waist, fingers gripping at the material at the back of your dress and tugging it up a little to which you squirm and tug back down on the side of your dress “sungchan, please..” you whimper, the alcohol already clouding your brain a little bit, you inhale his scent, feel his firm chest against you, your chest pressed up against his body and the hold he has on you is so firm, you feel a bit dizzy just thinking about him, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “what, baby?” he asks, and you’re looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes but you’re not even sure what it is you’re asking for at this point, it’s too much all the time, he’s always all consuming and you find that once again, his teasing has you needy and flustered and so you grind your hips against his a little to test and see how mean he’s going to be and you whisper “channie, need you..” but unfortunately, he is feeling especially mean tonight. he pinches your hip, and presses a few soft kisses to your neck, in your ear like “yeah, well we just got here, so you’ll have to wait. if you’re good for me, and let me parade you around like the little attention whore you are, then we’ll see if i reward you”
i need him so bad
You honestly just blew my mind.
I'm spiraling, I'm shaking, I'm dying.
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I love that you introduced Anton and Eunseok, I can't help but imagine them teasing Sungchan for going out and being whipped for you, blowing them off to spend his nights with you, and they're all like "what's wrong with him?", but then you appear all pretty, nervous and extremely conscious of what you're wearing, not able to even look straight at them for more than one min because you can feel your chest spilling out from that dress that doesn't let you hide anything at all, and they finally understand it all.
It's your pretty face getting all shy and blushing contrasting how bold the dress you're wearing is what makes them think "shit, I wouldn't leave her side either", but they won't say anything about it of course, they can already see Sungchan's cheeky smile appearing when he, with the hand that was already hugging your side, slides down your thigh and gives it a light smack to signal you that you should start walking to the kitchen with him.
Then, in the kitchen, before he gives you your shot, he first cages you to the counter so you can't run from his hand pushing the shot to your lips, one hand firm over your waist, pinching you while telling you to open your mouth for him, a command you're so used to that your body does it in its own, and then, after you ask him for some attention, he laughs and takes you to the party again, so he can show you around like he has already told you. He dances with you a little, grinding behind you and teasing you even more between the bodies of people you know nothing about, and your big thighs are sweating and your chest is slightly shining because of how hot the room is, so when he turns you and presses you against him, when he looks at your chest and sees the sweat gloss appearing, he starts to get hard, not caring at all that you're not alone there.
You feel it against your tummy, so you move your eyes from the eyes of his friends you somehow met in the other side of the room to his, and you flash him a smile because you like how good he looks there, but he thinks you're smiling because he's going to give you what you asked for so easily, which makes him think, what can he do to erase that silly smile and replace it with a few tears? Oh, making you cum in his friend's bedroom sounds good enough.
He has you under him, skirt all up and your tits finally naked in front of him, fingers playing with your clit and making your eyes flutter, it's all good and completely soft until he starts fingering you with his long digits, asking you to cum and then not letting you do it when he recognizes the way your cries are getting louder.
"but why?" You ask, sad for losing such a good orgasm.
"Who are you thinking about? Eunseok? I saw you smiling a bit too much at him" he asks, one hand in your neck, pushing you still over the pillow while the other is busy making you open your legs for him.
"only you, please, channie" your eyes look completely drunk from pleasure, and he believes you, but he has to tease you more before anything.
"didn't look like it, fucking attention whore, you think anyone else will want to fuck you? doubt it honey" he says, fingers going back inside you in slow motions. "I'm the only one for you, say it"
"no..." You want to correct him, to fight him, but his fingers are so long you can't even think, it hurts so much you just need to cum, "You-you're the only for me channie"
"of course I am" he smiles, fingers moving faster and deeper, so good that the wet sounds echoes inside the room, louder than the music downstairs.
You cry because he's so ruthless and he knows exactly where that little spot that makes you tremble is, and that, added to his big hand wrapping your throat, have you seen starts, unable to focus on anything that isn't the orgasm you've been needing since he gave you your first drink of the night.
"come on baby, make a mess, I know you want it" he orders against your ear, breath hot and voice erasing all sense in your head, "give Eunseok a taste of what he'll never have"
"w-what?" You ask as you can, freeing your lip that you've been biting without noticing.
"didn't I tell you?" His thumb is circling your clit now, letting you breath for a second "this is his room, and this, his bed"
"no- channie!" You deny, shame warms your face red, and you cry asking for him to stop, you don't want to cum in his friend's bed, you can't, you can't, you can't, you repeat in your head, how would you face them ever again?
You're crying, you want him to stop, so your hands go to his forearm to push him away, but he couldn't care less, moving it harder and telling you to cum with that raspy voice that has your pussy clenching around his fingers so he doesn't leave you instead.
Your legs tremble and your hips jump away from him when you cum with a loud cry of his name, feeling something drip down and your thighs wet, "shit doll, you really made a mess" he laughs, seeing the drops fall from his hand to the bedsheets under you.
You're too dizzy to hear him, too embarrassed to open your eyes and see him, and too happy for that orgasm to reproach him.
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Thank you so much for your contribution to this world with more bully!Sungchan, this made me go crazy and I wrote too much again.
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holylulusworld · 2 days
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Designed by pain (9)
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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?
Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean
A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.
Designed by pain masterlist
Designed by pain (8)
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Dean couldn’t find sleep that night. He tried to close his eyes, but all he saw was the ring on the bed while the words from your note echoed in his mind.
You wanted him to stop you from leaving, and he didn’t even know about it. 
His mother stole the only chance he had to see you swollen with his child and hear the first cry of his baby boy.
She stole everything from him. And he let her. 
It’s the first time in his life he doesn’t know what to do. Dean has lost his way, and he’s not sure there is a way to fix what he and his mother destroyed years ago.
Coming here was an act of desperation, nothing else. He didn’t think this through. All Dean wanted was to meet his son, and somehow, he had hoped there would be a chance you’d forgive him. 
Wishful thinking. A daydream he had hoped would come true.
A lie he sold himself so easily while he was clawing at the seat on the plane. Dean is a great pretender when it comes to his feelings. He pushes them away, pretending to not feel the emptiness inside of him since you left his side.
“Can’t sleep?” Sam yawns and slowly sits up. “Dean, you should try to get some sleep. Y/N allowed us to stay and agreed to talk to you in the morning. That’s more than you could’ve dreamed of.”
“I fucked everything up,” Dean sighs, and rolls to the other side to hide the tears well up to his eyes. “I could’ve had a life with Y/N. Sammy, I’ve missed her pregnancy, and the birth of our child. I didn’t see his first steps. His first word wasn’t daddy because I wasn’t around. Do you know how this feels? Do you?”
Sam fights the tears and the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know how it feels because he was there, watching his baby boy's every step. “No…I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Dean huffs. “I got drunk and hurt Y/N. I let Mother walk all over her and didn’t even try to contact Y/N. You wanted me to find her, but I let my doubts and issues get in the way.”
“You didn’t know about the note, and her pregnancy,” Sam slowly sits up. He slips out of the bed to place his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I know Y/N is still hurt, but Mother played you both. If there is a slight chance Y/N will at least let you be a part of your son’s life, take it. Don’t chicken out. Just take it.”
“Fuck’s sake, I’m trying to do the right thing. It’s just…” Dean sniffs. “It’s all so fucked up. Our mother ruined my relationship out of spite. Father tried to hit on my fiancé and still drools all over her. I’m a father and don’t know how to tell my son that he grew up without a father because I was the one fucking things up between Y/N and me.”
“Can you not say fuck all the time?” Sam grunts. “You can’t cuss all the time while a kid is around. Dean, you need to learn to control your mouth and use your brain as a filter.”
“I can curse as much as I want to as long as Michael is not around,” Dean argues. “Now lemme sleep.”
“You didn’t sleep at all. Your grumpiness kept me awake,” Sam bites back. “But fine. Go ahead and ruin your chance. I’ll fly back home tomorrow.”
“Sammy…I…I need you here. I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Dean sits up to look at his brother. “Can she ever forgive me? It was all my fault…my fault alone…”
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“Arthur, not now,” you rub your tired eyes while arguing with your boss and best friend. “I know you don’t like Dean, but this can’t be helped. He’s here, and I need to find a way to handle the situation. Michael deserves to know his father…doesn’t he?”
Ketch shakes his head. He stares at the closed front door while you nervously run your hands up and down your arms. “I came here to check on you because you cried last night, Y/N. He’s in town for not twenty-four hours and already made you cry. Let me throw him out of your house.”
“Ketch…” you grab his wrist and stop him from entering your house. “I love you like a brother, but this is something you can’t do for me. Michael needs to know, and I need a conclusion too. Let me handle Dean.”
“Y/N…”
“Do you trust me?” You look him straight in the eyes. “Do you believe I’m a smart and independent woman able to make my own decisions?”
“Yeah… I mean…” He stammers now. “Of course, my dear…”
“Then let me make my own decision,” you pat his hand. “You’re a good friend, and I—”
You can’t end your line because Dean storms out of your house. He immediately attacks catch, landing a blow to your friend’s cheek. “YOU! You kept her away from me! You sonofabitch! Now you come here to get her? Forget it!”
“Dean! No!” Sam tries to stop his brother, but Ketch and Dean are already throwing punches at each other. You can only watch them fight over you, or whatever they believe they are fighting for.
“DEAN!” 
“KETCH!”
You and Sam yell while the men fight and argue. Ketch yells at Dean for leaving you and his baby, while Dean calls Ketch a girlfriend-stealing gremlin.
You’d chuckle at Dean’s choice of words but they are about to seriously injure each other.
“STOP THIS NONSENSE!” Sam yells. He wants to get in between the men. “DEAN!”
“He’s my dad?” 
You turn around like in slow motion to watch your son’s eyes widen. His face falls, and he sniffles. 
“Baby…I—” you try to find the words to explain why you never told your son about his father. “We should head back inside.”
“He’s my dad?” He says again, a little louder this time. “But…” Michael shakes his head. “I hate you! All of you!” 
“No…I…” You sniffle. “Great! I hope you are both happy now!”
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toorurs · 7 hours
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cellphone love story — osamu dazai
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*+゚synopsis: recently, someone's been spam calling you to the point that you’re fed and pick up the phone, only to be greeted with someone by the name dazai who has been continuously trying to reach his dead friend. the calls however don't end here, rather, your (call) history with dazai starts to extend - slowly but surely forming a bond over time; the phone.
pairing: dazai x reader (gn) |wordcount: 2.5k (this was my personal hell)  | content & warnings: fluff, mentions of odasaku and very very very small mention of chuuya, more than friends less than lovers at the end (can also be interpreted as lovers, but that's just what i had in mind yall), brief mentions of drinking, light angst if you squint, not proofread its 5 am yall…. ; oneshot
a/n: sorry that i havent posted anything in the past few days (eight days to be exact i think..) i hope this will somehow make it up :,)
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you can't keep count anymore.
this is the third - no, maybe fourth time today the unknown number has called you. at some point they have to realize that they’ve gotten the wrong number, right? 
it all started about one and a half weeks ago when you changed your phone number and received a new one. ever since that day someone has been continuously trying to call you. unfamiliar digits lit up on your screen as you were out with your friend, you ignored them, after all who were you to accept a call from an unknown number?
but, over the course of the evening the calls didn't stop, eerie and annoying ringtone constantly piercing through your ears until the calls took a halt at midnight. relief washing over you.
to your mishap the calls didn't stop there. sometimes they’d wake you up from a peaceful slumber, groggily pinching and rubbing your eyes before swiping the call away. other times your phone would ring at a work meeting where you had to awkwardly excuse yourself and turn off your phone.
admittedly, you're at fault for not blocking the number. all of your friends suggested that you should, reasoning it with the fact that the caller probably has some dirty schemes and motives and that you should just try and not get in touch with weird people like them. 
which brings you to your current predicament, sitting on the couch with your favorite show playing in the background as you text a friend, until a certain but familiar series of digits show up on your phone screen. do they never know when to stop?
your fingers hover over the decline button and then over to the accept button, debating and contemplating if you should decline the call but you don’t. the pads of your fingers press down on the accept button and you wait. 
you’re greeted with silence, what the hell? your patience runs thin, streaming like arid sand grains through an hourglass until they meet the bottom and gather there together with the others. it's been like thirty seconds into the call now, at this point they should've probably said something, at least a quiet hello. an exasperated sigh leaves your mouth and you begin “seriously? you’ve been calling me for the past week now and suddenly i pick up your calls you don’t say shit?” you complain.
“goodbye odasaku.” a sigh leaves the strangers mouth, a man you notice. “i suppose this is my sign to stop grieving and mourning over you.” his voice slightly quivers and the male chuckles sorrowfully. you can’t distinguish if it’s melancholy or relief that lace the bitter words. 
you’re left with confusion, so many unanswered questions lie at the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare to utter a word. “apologies.” he speaks up once again, this time with a steadier voice. “you’re probably confused, my name is osamu dazai.” he politely introduces himself. even though you’re unable to see him and can’t see him nor his expression, your intuition tells you that he’s slightly grinning, that a ghost of a smile graces his lips, although a rather sad one. 
“this phone number belonged to an old friend of mine.” dazai respires. a shaky “odasaku?” you whisper and let out a breath you yourself didn’t know you held in. “yeah, sakunosuke oda.” he hummed smilingly. “he’s gone.” dead, dazai wants to add but he refrains. 
“his voicemail always played when i dialed his number and called.” he whispered. “it was pleasant to hear his voice, knowing that there are still fragments of odasaku out there. he understood me like no other, i miss him.” dazai meekly confessed in a hushed tone. “but those days are over, i suppose it’s for the better.” the male on the other line sighed.
an umpteen amount of words prickle on your tongue, they itch to be released and said, you wanted to say something - anything. but before you’re able to properly gather your words and form a sentence, dazai cuts you off.
“please excuse my intrusions in the past week. have a good rest.” a shrilling sound echoing through your living room symbolizes the end of the call and you’re left dumbfounded.
-
strident noises awake you from your sleep. you toss and turn in your sheets as you mindlessly try to find your phone, rolling over to lay on your side as you find it and tightly clutching it, gripping your phone as you’re greeted with a bright screen and a row of digits. dazais number, you realize.
no, you didn't save his number nor did you memorize in which order the digits were aligned but his phone number's unfamiliar digits have become quite familiar now. you check the time: 0.52 a.m. what was dazai doing at such time and why was he calling you out of all people? especially after he hung up on you a month ago.
“hello?” you groggily yawn. “ah.” a female voice on the other line yelps, she sounds relieved. “are you odasaku by any chance? could you pick up mr. dazai please?” the woman asks in a demure manner. “what’s the situation?” you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake. “well, mr. dazai is intoxicated - he’s drunk and is currently slumped over the counter.” she whispers into the phone. 
“if that doesn’t bother you of course, i can also call someone else!” she hurriedly says. you're slipping out of your sheets to get out of your bed and move towards your hallway, loosely throwing over a thin jacket and checking its pocket if your car keys are in there. “it’s fine, can you tell me the location?” you tiredly ask. “yes of course. it’s bar lupin.” she replies. you check your phone and step outside your door moving towards your car “got it, i’ll be there in 20 minutes or so.” with that you end the call, get inside your car and put your hands on the steering wheel.
-
carefully you take a step inside the narrow bar, taking off your hood and immediately spotting dazai whose head was currently laying on the surface of the front bar. he was poking at his glass of whiskey, the ball of ice being almost fully melted. “dazai.” you call out. he turns around, hazel eyes meeting yours. 
only then can you admire dazai for the first time. his dark brown is tousled and unkempt but it continues to gleam in the orange light. his arms are wrapped in bandages and there's a long beige, almost khaki, coat draped over his body. you can’t help but think that he’s kind of pretty.
“what are you doing here?” dazai asks in a fatigued tone. you show him your car keys and wag them in the air “here to pick you up.” you reply nonchalantly. “why?” his question is barely above a whisper. 
why are you helping him? he doesn’t understand - he wishes to understand. the first impression you’ve received from dazai was when he was calling you non stop and now your second impression is him slumped over bar lupins front bar. dazai can’t tell if you’re just naive or really trying to be helpful out of politeness or rather out of kindness. 
a certain kindness he’s only ever received from odasaku. helping someone like him out of kindness with no hidden intentions, offering a helping hand, smiling with utmost fondness. 
“as if im leaving a somewhat nice drunkard alone. i’m not inhumane.” even though your answers are full of nonchalance, dazai can make out a certain sincerity that lies in your words. 
his eyes can only follow as you tilt your head towards the door. “let's get you back home.” you gently smile. 
-
dazai wakes up to the sound of  birds chirping and sizzling oil. he’s warm, a soft blanket covering his body only then dazai realizes that this isn’t his bed, that he’s not lying in his futon. he looks around before his gaze lands on the bedside table which had a glass of water atop it, marked with a little sticky note that said “drink this, you’ll feel much better and come find me in the kitchen :)” 
he can’t recall everything that happened yesterday, it all went past him like a blur the only thing he remembered was that you came to pick him up. dazai grabbed the glass and gulped it down in one go, some of its content seeping down his chin and wiping it away with his sleeve before sliding out of the bed with the glass in his hand to return it to you.
finding your kitchen wasn’t hard, it was located right next to the dining room where a variety of dishes were placed on the dining table. dazai enters the kitchen, without you noticing and sees you whisking up two eggs with a pair of chopsticks before speaking up “here.” dazai coughs and places the glass on the counter near the sink to express his gratitude. 
“oh, it’s no problem.” you shoot him a small smile. your hand reaches over to the salt and pepper  to season the eggs with before carefully putting the egg mixture into the hot greased pan. admittedly dazai feels a bit out of place - useless (when was he ever not) so he offers to wash your dishes which you happily agreed to. 
besides the sound of sizzling fat and water running down the faucet, it's quiet in your kitchen. “how’d she know whom to call?”  you’re the first to speak up, eyes still concentrated on frying the eggs as you hum a small melody.
“the bartendress?” dazai asks in response. 
“yeah.” 
“well, odasaku’s number, which is your number now, is one of my emergency contacts, i suppose she just called you first.” dazai shrugs his shoulders, his hands still focused on rubbing away the dirty spots on your plates. 
“i see.” 
“if the old man, my favourite bartender by the way." dazai winks. "if he would’ve been here he would’ve called mackerel.” dazai lets out a small laugh, probably the most sincere laugh he let out in the past few weeks.
“mackerel?” you ask, soft voice laced with confusion.
“an old friend of mine.” dazai smiles sadly. “odasaku and him are both my emergency contacts.” he chuckles. 
dazai doesn’t talk about the topic much further and neither do you, assuming it’s a sensitive topic for him. “i’m done, how about you?” you look over to dazai who’s currently washing his hands off with lavender soap. “mhm, me too.” he hums in agreement at which you can smile at.
dazais eyes trail after you as you leave the kitchen and move to the dining room, setting down all the plates and pouring two glasses of water. “sit down and eat up.” your eyes sway from his eyes over to the chairs. only then does dazai notice that his beige coat is neatly folded on one of your dining chairs. it makes his heart jump lightly. 
he sits down and takes a sip out of his glass, waiting until you start to eat first before he gets to. he smiles contently as you happily chew on your food. “does it taste good?” he cringes at himself when he realizes just how awkward that question is, he feels like a teenager again that was always wary of what people thought of him. 
“it tastes amazing! wanna try?” you slide the plate over to dazai, offering him to take a piece. “sure.” he agrees before taking a small bite. you weren’t lying when you said that it tasted amazing. “you're right, it tastes so good.” dazai says ecstatically. “told you so! my cooking is not to be underestimated.” you laugh and dazai can’t help but laugh too which makes him cough uncontrollably, putting a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t spit out anything on your table cloth but continuing to laugh.
“oh god dazai, are you okay?” you rush over to his aid and put your hand over his back to slide over it, hoping that it’ll somehow soothe his coughing. dazai manages to muffle out a “i’m fine, really.” between his coughs and laughs which you can only sigh at but can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face and plasters itself on your lips.
-
calls with dazai have become more frequent now, although he sometimes still remains a mystery to you, it feels like he’s grown quite comfortable around you. 
he told you more about himself (vice versa), talks about his work at the armed detective agency and sends you recipes the both of you could recreate. not only calls with him became more frequent but also visits. 
at least four out of seven times a week dazai rushes to your place after work (you should probably call it your shared home now due to dazai leaving his stuff at your place like scattered objects on the floor).
for example, today: dazai walks into your kitchen like he owns the place. he sets down his belongings onto your couch before stepping towards the kitchen where he already finds you chopping the vegetables for the curry. 
he notices that you’re on the verge of tearing up as you continuously chop the onions into small bits and grabs a tissue before sneaking up behind you and scaring you. “boo.” his mouth forms a little “o” and you slightly jump before setting the knife down and putting your hand over your heart. “you scared me!” you complain even though dazai can see the playful glint in your eyes.
“sorry, sorry.” he laughs before wiping away the small droplets of tears that managed to escape your eyes. 
his calloused hands brush over your soft skin, it’s intimate - romantic even. you softly sigh against the tissue, the object that separates the two of you. the action makes your face lightly heat up and you’re sure that dazai noticed it too from the way he’s smirking. 
“aw, was i able to fluster you?” he coos at you smilingly, which in response you can only huff at, eyeing him with a look that says “you already know the answer.” before turning around to continue where you left off.
in the meantime dazai pulls out another cutting board and starts to chop the carrots. it’s quiet, it’s always quiet when the two of you cook together, but neither you nor dazai mind. the smell of aromatics that nip and continue to linger in the air and the sound of your jazz playlist which sometimes gets outplayed by the sounds of cutting or frying food, are more than enough. it’s just like the first time the two of you shared this space together, a certain nostalgia suddenly washing over him.
“thank you” he whispers, barely loud enough to not get overplayed by the music playing in the background. 
“for what?” you ask, longing for an answer.
for the times you’ve picked me up at bar lupin, for the times you’ve cooked me warm meals, for the times when you took care of me. 
“for everything.”
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this is dedicated to my odasaku person @azullumi (don't die pls i need u and ur fics HHDDISISISIS). you've always told me that you liked odasaku a lot and that some day you also want to open up an orphanage which i find really endearing. what i mean by "you're my odasaku person" is not "wow we're literally so odasaku and dazai coded" but no rather it's because you also play such a major role in my life (not just cause of the age gap between oda and dazai and u and me..). you're always there when i need you, you're always there when i needed you and i hope that you'll always be there when i need you. but the same thing goes vice versa; goes for me. azul you're someone whom i've randomly met and if i never made that one comment or sent that one ask or if you never sent that one dm i would've never written this. you're someone who reassures me and soothes my worries with simple words, when i'm feeling down you're the person i turn to because you're the only person who really understands and somehow relates and thus i'm always able to trust and follow your judgement and advice. i never feel judged or belittled by you or treated as someone whose only an immature kid, no you treat me as a normal person, like a friend. which makes me feel seen - acknowledged even. to be loved is to be seen. i could go hours when it comes about talking to you and what impact you have on my life, but i suppose that's for another end note dsjsdsuusus. you're so dear to me. i love you a lot azul <3
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© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms, feeding them to ai is not permitted.
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rainbowcaleb · 11 hours
Text
FICLET FRIDAY : Witless
Prompt: wet | Rating: T | Characters: Essek and Molly (Caleb offscreen) | Words: 502 | CW: None
“I’ll just be one moment, please make yourself comfortable.” Caleb walks down the short hallway and disappears into what Essek assumes is his private room.
Essek absolutely wasn’t expecting Caleb to invite him inside his room, he wouldn’t even know how to react if he saw a bed— is it large? cozy? are there abundant pillows, or is Caleb spartan with just one? are the sheets rumpled or— the thought of just the bed sends Essek into a quickly tamped down spiral. He can't handle seeing a whole bedroom full of personal artifacts all at once. His mind will try too quickly to gather all the presented information to solve this Widogast puzzle, and this year Essek is very much trying to discover friendship the natural way, not with the help of research or second eyes.
And so Essek perches on the edge of the couch, not quite allowing himself to settle, as Caleb retrieves the notes from that morning’s lecture. Curse Verin for dragging Essek out to breakfast halfway across town. He’ll never believe another ‘emergency’ text from his brother again.
There’s rapid footsteps sounding from the hallway then a small crash as someone runs into the room and bumps into the corner, almost toppling the floor lamp.
“Caleb! I’ve got an idea for where we should take Beau for her surprise birthday next— oh hello.”
Essek does not have his wits about him. If he has any wits in hand at all he wouldn’t be staring mouth agape at the tiefling that has just entered the room. The figure is dripping wet, which explains the clumsy entrance, assumingly having run from the shower. And naked. Which could also be explained by a shower. Essek’s mind is frozen on the full expanse of nude skin before him and, witless as he is, cannot move on past the logical assumption—
“Did you just run out of the shower?”
The tiefling laughs. “I might have. I thought I heard Caleb’s voice and assumed he was home and willing to hear my great plans.” A wink is sent Essek’s way. “I don’t suppose you’d like to brainstorm a party with me? If you’ve come home with Caleb, I’m sure you’re just as smart. He does know how to pick them.”
“I haven’t come home with him.” The scandal is starting to catch up in Essek’s mind but his focus is still a bit left of target. “He is simply lending me class notes.”
“Ah, a shame.” The tiefling approaches and Essek’s gaze is very determinedly trying to stay on the face. It’s a very nice face, wet black hair now curling in front of the eyes. “If you were sticking around I might risk pissing off my roommate by stealing you away. I’m Mollymauk.” A hand is stuck out towards Essek. Years of polite upbringing has Essek taking the hand despite the nearby nudity. “Can I still tempt you to stay awhile? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, and I’m always happy to make a new friend.”
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starkraivennemad · 13 hours
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The Beginning Calm
D.I. Greg Lestrade put up with a lot for the services of "World's Only Consulting Detective" Sherlock Holmes. His biting sarcasm, vicious diatribes, and insults to his intelligence. And that was nice compared to what came out of the genius’ mouth when it comes to his team. Not to mention Sherlock’s near childlike glee in flaunting his often barely legal antics with the law. But he and the team, okay mostly just he, tolerated it. Why? Because like it or not - he did, his team did not – at the end of the day, the man got results. Sherlock got the results which got Greg the arrests needed to get criminals off the streets, and the solid convictions that kept them off.
It was not easy dealing with Sherlock Holmes, or his even bigger pain in the arse brother Mycroft but it was worth it. Still, Greg would not lie if he did not wish it could be a bit calmer in the chaos.
Thus, you could have knocked Greg over with a feather once John Watson entered the picture. In less than twenty-four hours of the doctor knowing the genius, Greg had started to note small differences.
Sherlock, when realizing he might have messed up, looked to John for guidance. “Not good?”
John, realizing Sherlock really did not understand, was patient, “Bit not good, yeah.”
Granted, Sherlock was back to his unthinking ways not even a moment later.
Sherlock: “Yeah, but if you were dying ... if you’d been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?”
John” “Please, God, let me live.”
Sherlock: “Oh, use your imagination!”
Greg noted how the doctor, with a mere look and a softly spoken rebuke, “I don’t have to…,” had Sherlock briefly taken aback for his thoughtlessness again. Greg could count on one hand how often that worked between him and Sherlock.
By the end of the night, Greg understood this doctor was only the beginning of something very different for Sherlock.
When a certain black sedan still idled at the curve, he knew what it meant. He walked up minutes later, hearing as the rear window lowered.
“So, have you warehoused him yet?” Greg asked.
“And good evening to you, Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Mycroft retorted drolly.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Can’t prove it, don’t want to, but I know he just shot a man and that saved your brother’s life.”
“Interesting. For that I will answer your question, yes, he was warehouse earlier this evening. ”
“And he hadn’t go running for the hills after?”
“Neither had you, Lestrade.” Mycroft reminded him. “You, Dr. Hooper, Mrs. Hudson are the only ones to do so. ”
“What does not fear you, has what it takes to deal with your brother it seems.” Greg mused. “Watson calms him…”
“Him? John Watson, CALMS, my brother? That’s just not possible!”
“Don’t worry, your capricious little brother will always be a right prat. That’s never changing.” Greg turned to head back to the crime scene. “Goodnight, Mr. Holmes.”  
“I’m not done speaking, Inspector Lestrade.”
“Too bad, I have work to do. I’m done not listening to you.” Greg walked away smugly.
He heard Mycroft’s scoff as the window went up again. “Watson calms Sherlock? The inspector is mad!”
He could not fault the older brother’s disbelief, given they were talking about Sherlock. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction John and Sherlock had walked as if he still saw the long-gone men and chuckled to himself.
“Yeah, he’s a prat, but I think someday, if we’re lucky with John, he just might become less of one.”
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#MayPrompts2024 - Prompt 7: Calm
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