#the explanation for each word is linked in the words

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hello! So, I'm black and I'm not usamerican, could you explain to me what exactly AAVE is? I just know it's like a dialect

I had to find a link bc it would take me far longer to try to organize my thoughts on this myself lol. I actually learned something new myself, as I'm not a linguistics master or anything like that.

Exploring Black Languages, a quick look at AAVE (African American Vernacular English)- Temi Oyenuga

AAVE + Its Origins

Black languages came out of the experience of enslaved African and their descendents in the Diaspora.

West Africans – who were enslaved in the Americas – were forced to understand English on plantations. Newly enslaved West Africans would have limited access to learn to speak English and there were laws in place that forbade them from being taught to read English. There were also policies and laws in place, which ensured that enslaved Africans were not allowed to speak in their mother tongue.

The roots of this African American language further lie in the resistance to the above oppression.

The resistance movement is where enslaved African American created a coded way in which they spoke that relied on the grammatical understanding they had from Africa. It also relied on other techniques like using negative words to describe positive things so the white slave owners would not be able to understand them when they spoke to each other. Thus, AAVE was a speech created as a communication system by Black people unintelligible to speakers of the dominant white class.

The shared Black experience has resulted in common language practices in the African Diaspora. AAVE is just one of many examples of this.

Coded Resistance: Freedom Fighting and Communication - for more explanation on how it's not just AAVE that was part of "creating a language" meant for only us to understand.

Language Jones- What is AAVE?

#its interesting how things i just take for granted as language are this complex #creatingblackcharacters #aave #black history

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 7: conversation

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

' “I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy," she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn't even blink.

“I’m not.” You are. '

---

Megumi calls you back. You leave for Tokyo again, like a soul yearning for its body.

word count: ~6k; tws: none for now :)!!

19-6-2018

“So you’re really going to let go of them now?” your father asks. 

“...yeah.” 

“That’s good. I’ll miss that Itadori boy, though.” 

You will, too. 

In a way you suppose Megumi and Yuuji are very similar. They’d go well together, be good, fast friends and all that. 

They’re both undoubtedly good people, no matter how they’ve beat people up before and how different their beliefs may be. 

In Megumi’s case, everyone knew how good a person Tsumiki was, her younger brother included. Her kindness and virtue extended itself, inspiring other people around her. But Megumi was a good person, too— polite, patient (most of the time, unless it were Gojo— but who wouldn’t be annoyed by that man, right?), kind in his own way. He cared for you in all sorts of ways in the past, even then you could tell, gentle with animals and objects and your hand. Gentle in his own way. Giving you reminders despite the tiny calumniations sprinkled in (they barely do as much damage as comb bristles can), being sharp because he must have had to, kind because it was in his very nature. Easy on the eyes, tall, deep soothing voice— he ticked all the boxes for that, too. You bet that if things were different, and the two of you had stayed in touch with each other, you’d have fallen deeply in love with it by now. Yet that thought only makes you feel sour now that things hadn’t gone that way at all. 

And Yuuji, too— there was no explanation needed for Yuuji. Even Megumi could tell he was a good person. And at some times he was almost like Tsumiki. You weren’t ever surprised that you’d caught feelings for him, because— who wouldn’t? He was always popular, even if he was ignorant of his own charm around others. But he wasn’t just a good guy with a ripped torso, he was honest, perceptive and smart in conversations. Smarter than he ever credited himself for. Smart in a way you could never be— people with cute faces, nice bodies and good social skills were in a league of their own, practically. You’d thought that for a long time. 

Did either of them ever know how you felt? 

Probably not. Your heart was guarded, intensely so, and you’d never lay your feelings bare and out so easily. You weren’t the type of person to say you loved people as easily as others did, even within your own family. 

This, you presume, is probably an acquired trait, now that you think about it. You were much more different as a child, free with praise and love and unabashed affection as well as appreciation for the people around you. What changed?

(Everything.) 

You miss 2010. You miss Tsumiki the way you miss your mother’s cooking, miss her the way you miss when you wrote emails and letters and text messages to her with multi-coloured pens or your old phone that eventually broke a year after. You miss the conversations the two of you had, miss how you used to be your parents’ little angel. 

And in the end it all comes back to that, doesn’t it? 2010. Nostalgia. Reminiscing on old memories in a way akin to how the elderly do in their youth. That just made you seem more pathetic, because, weren’t you supposed to be making those memories right now, at this time of your life? 

You’re a teenager. You should be going out with friends, and having fun, not rotting at home ruminating on the past, with the only friends you’ve ever had hundreds of kilometres away from you (you weren’t sure if you could even call one of them a ‘friend’ anymore), and your acquaintances not close enough to replace them (how could they ever? How could there ever be a replacement for Yuuji?) 

In a way you feel your life is miserable: awkward, socially-impaired teenage girl with her only friend practically out of her life at this point; nothing special to your name besides a cursed technique that most times does you more harm than good; stuck not being able to completely get over friends she met at eight who left her as quickly as someone can blink their eyes; with the thinking process of a nagging, stubborn mother sometimes, or if not that then a blurry, mingled train of thought that gets delayed or lost when moving from station to station; someone not of use at all. Not miserable, you think to yourself like a slap to the face, pathetic. 

You’re not sure how Tsumiki is now— maybe she has a partner, or better friends than you were, or she’s busy being president of the student council or something (she’d be a sterling leader, of that you’re certain, that girl who you’d always known was bound to go places in the span of her lifetime). 

Hopefully, she’s alright, and doing the best she can in life. That’s all you wish for when it comes to Tsumiki. 

At this point, there’s no point in wishing to join them, or to linger on them and memories of the past. It’s a mosquito in summer heat, which is why, if it stays, you decide, you’ll just suppress and ignore it until it goes away. Even if you didn’t know how long it would take you to get over them— weeks, months, but goodness forbid a whole lifetime or forever— you needed to accept that you’d be like this for nearly the rest of your life: pathetic, lonely— ah, that’s the word that so very perfectly delineates the situation you’re in— and then some. 

So that’s why, when you hear your phone buzzing on your bed like a cicada during a balmy night, you assume it’s someone else. Yuuji must be busy settling in (he’s been texting you, and you took that as a sign that he wouldn’t call), and Megumi must be… —Well. Megumi has made a promise, and it’s not that you don’t believe in him, but it would be better to expect less than what you’d like to in order to evade disappointment. 

Must be someone else. A prank call, or a scammer, or something. Or a telemarketer, but you’d be surprised if telemarketers were calling you and not your father. And you were never one to pick calls up mindlessly anyway, so if it were some stranger out to get you or swindle you, you’d just hang up or check the number. 

If not either a scam or a telemarketer (well you suppose both of those could be scams in certain contexts), though, then you’d suspect it would be either Yuuji (Yuuji’s the one who has been texting you, after all, conversations strewn over checking in with the other over the past few hours or snippets of advice from you telling him not to bother Megumi very much, and to be cautious and keep himself safe) or Gojo— definitely not Megumi, and probably not Gojo either, but still it was more likely that Gojo was calling you instead of Megumi, so you’re considering it— and you can’t really remember Gojo’s number anyway, so what if an unknown number wasn’t a prank call or something—

You wonder if you should just pick it up instead of burying your head in your study notes and overthinking everything. 

But you know it’s definitely not Megumi. 

You check the phone. 

Well, you’ll be damned. 

It’s Fushiguro Megumi. 

You know his number by heart, after all. Keyed it in too many times to forget, and it’s not like he’d have any reason to change it. Not with the way he cares for things, inanimate objects, not with the tenderly quiet, secretly caring, emotionally jaded way he maintains them. 

“Ah… hello?” 

Your heart thumps in your chest and heat flares up in your cheeks with a frenetic speed. 

“Hi,” you blurt out, shakily. You’re sure your voice is quivering, yet your mind feels like it’s barely functioning, almost about to drown in a seven-feet-deep pool, so you can’t really tell. You can’t really hear yourself. 

You don’t know why you feel like this— no, you know exactly why, actually. It’s because you haven’t gotten over him. Your thoughts are scrambled but you know, for sure, that you’re like this because you want to get rid of feelings like these but you can’t. Or because you’ve been saying that to yourself like a mantra, for so long, even though a part of you wants it to stay— out of what, that’s what you don’t know; maybe desperation or nostalgia or an inability to stop dwelling on days long gone. But you know what this is— you’ve seen the movies, read the manga, watched the dramas. It’s romance. Crushes. Something you’re not quite able to call love yet, something you’re too scared to properly name, still, but something you can understand is one-sided nonetheless. 

“…hi. [Name].” 

“Hello…” 

What happens when two estranged childhood friends with a book’s worth of history behind their relationship that happen to be socially awkward teenagers actually have a conversation semi-beyond what keeps them estranged in the first place? 

“Hi— no, wait… how are you?” 

Pot, meet kettle, because you’re going off nothing but the fact that you’re at the very least surprised (the other emotions are too complicated to explain) that he’s speaking to you again, and not just on text, but he’s calling, and he sounds like he’s reading off a script, but the script is in a whole other language, somehow, and the uncertain nervousness in his voice is tangible, even for a deep, low voice like his. 

Script or not, you appreciate the effort, though. 

“I’m good, um… I’m happy you were able to call. It’s been a long time.” 

“That’s good.” 

There’s silence on the other line; time feels like it’s moving achingly slowly. But you’re mildly happy. 

Not happy, maybe, but you definitely feel light, as if you’ve been severed from the heaviness of everything else that has happened lately. This is the first time in years something like this has ever happened. 

“Ah, wait, I forgot to ask! Sorry, um.. how are you?” 

“I’m doing alright, too. Oh, wait, I should apologise. I didn’t tell you— thanks for helping with my injuries the other day. Gojo told me about it after you left. You… you didn’t have to, though. You shouldn’t have risked your health like that.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t mention it. You know why I do this, anyway.” Out of necessity or a need to be useful, you’re not even sure yourself, but he must know, to some degree, right? It seems as if he’d be the one to know the most of this, of you— at least, when matters came to this. “And I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Dr Ieiri probably ended up helping more with the bigger ones once the three of you got back. I mean, she did, right?” 

“…no. She said that she didn’t want to waste her time, so if injuries were more minor like mine, she wouldn’t heal them fully.” 

“...ah.” More minor? Seriously, doctor? You’d normally not question her judgement over matters that she had more expertise in dealing with, but seriously? 

“I’ll be fine, though. Most of the bandages have come off, and all.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

You wonder where he is now, on the bed, maybe, or sitting on the floor. You’ve seen the classrooms, but not the dormitories— you hope wherever he is, that it’s comfortable. That he’s okay. 

“We’re going to see a new student soon.” 

“Really? Have you met them before?” 

“No, but Gojo said she’s from the countryside. But we’re meeting her in Harajuku, for some reason.” 

“Oh, Harajuku! I miss it,” you let out a plaintive sigh, “I can’t wait to be back in Tokyo. You know, whatever happens, I still love that city like nothing else. I know how many people hate it, but I love it so much.” And you love it so much in the first place, mostly because of Megumi and Tsumiki. “Maybe she just wants to chase a bit of the sweet city life— I mean, you know how it is when country bumpkins go to the city for the first time… kind of. Or when they love the city— yeah, that’s a better way of saying it. I was like that, kind of.” 

“...if you’re worried about the train ride here and want to travel alone, I could always pay for you. Uh… wait—” 

“Oh, no, no! There’s no need, uhm— thank you anyway, it’s just—” 

“It’s Gojo’s money anyway.” 

“Pft,” you snort. Anything to seep out some of Gojo’s money like gluttonous leeches, right? “Nah, I’ll be fine. I mean, I don’t even think I’ll be able to come back in a few years’ time, and by then I won’t even be relying on my parents’ money for this stuff anymore— I mean, I will still be relying on their money, but I’ll be managing it as my own.” 

He chuckles lightly over the line, the silent way he shows his emotions, the way that goes unnoticed if one is not attentive to it. It feels like he’s whispering directly into your ear, and the heat on your face (which you weren’t even sure was still there until that point). Your heart skips a beat and it completely, absolutely shocks you. “...the offer still stands.” 

Yeah, you can get behind it if he’s like this now. What happened to him, anyway? Puberty hit him like a brick and gave him, like, one more ounce of emotional maturity? 

You shake your head like a character in a piece of crappy romance fanfiction. No way. Not now, at least. Calm down. 

(...you’re just a girl.) 

“Well, no take backs from now on, okay? Even if it’s, like, five years into the future, you’ll still be using Gojo’s credit card to cover for all my travel expenses.” 

He does it again, that low, soft, attractive sound. Makes you want to hit him and hit yourself at the same time, and then kick your feet up in the air giddily, and then throttle yourself, if it were possible, out of sheer embarrassment. “Yeah.” 

You’re having the time of your life. 

“Anyway, how is everything else? Like, are your studies and grades okay? Is the training you do alright to handle?” 

“My grades are pretty okay,” he answers, “Not like Gojo cares, honestly. And the training’s fine, it’s nothing I’m not used to.” 

“Gojo seems like he’d be a good teacher. When he wants to, he can command respect pretty easily, too. I guess he just… chooses not to. But I saw it yesterday, when you and Yuuji were passed out in the hospital.” 

It still strikes a pang of guilt in your chest, your inability to have done anything else besides calling Gojo over for help. 

“...I suppose he does.” 

“Yeah.” 

“How about you? Itadori, he… he can be an idiot sometimes, but he speaks of you really admirably. He talks about how smart you are a lot.” 

The thought of Megumi calling Yuuji an idiot of all things doesn’t feel like it falls short from him, but it still makes you frown— though, you realise that that’s just his way of expressing things, because in a way he’d treated you somewhat the same in the past, even if he hadn’t shown it outright or expressed it very vividly. Classic Megumi. 

“Hey, he’s smarter than people give him credit for, okay? Wait until you see how talented he is at things other than sports and martial arts. You’d be surprised after trying the meatballs he makes. Would be good if you asked him to give you the recipe sometime; I make them, like, once a week, at least.” 

He sighs, “...I will. But the point is, he cares for you a lot.” 

“Yeah, beautiful soul, that guy. Loves people the way curious children love nature.” 

“That would be a fitting way to put it.” 

“How are the dogs?” 

“My shikigami?” 

“Yeah. Do they have names?” 

“The black one is Kuro and the white one is Shiro.” 

“You named them black and white?” 

“Look, I named them when I was barely six years old, and six year olds aren’t exactly the best when it comes to these things…” 

You giggle, “So the name stuck?” 

“Yeah, sort of.” 

Real cute. 

“What about your father? How is he?” 

“He’s okay, but, well. I guess we’re not that close anymore.” 

“...I see.” He probably can’t imagine a version of you who wasn’t immensely close to her parents. You couldn’t then, either. 

“We’ve been talking even less now that my mother’s in the hospital, but at least I get to talk to him before he eats, maybe. I’ve been doing most of the cooking now that my mother isn’t here and my father doesn’t really know how to handle himself in our kitchen without her guidance.” 

“Oh… if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your mother?” 

“Cancer.” 

You can practically hear the gulp he’s taking, the bobbing of his throat— sensitive topic. “I’m… so sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s okay, don’t be,” you reassure him, “I should have told you that day anyway. I was just… exploding at everybody on that night. I should apologise— I’m sorry for how badly I treated you.” 

“No,” he goes, “No, you shouldn’t. I understand why you were like that that night. And it was mostly my fault, too, so…” 

“No, no, I’m serious! Feel free to ask almost anything as long as I have actual answers to your questions and all.” 

“Still… I just wanted to know. Sorry if I caused you any trouble.” 

“No— you didn’t do any of that at all, don’t worry! I’m alright with people asking about this. Ah, anyway… besides Yuuji, do you have any friends?” 

“Itadori and I aren’t friends.” 

“Trust me, if I asked him, I bet he’d beg to differ. Yuuji’s like that with people— soon he’ll be more important to you than you could have ever thought at first.”  

“Whatever you say,” he sort of grunts, “But I don’t have any friends, I think… except you, maybe. What about you?” 

You were honestly expecting him not to consider you a friend at all, and at this point so much has happened that wouldn’t even be that bothered if he no longer thought of you as one but called you anyway out of his commitment to his promises, or as an apology. 

“I’m surprised you can still call me a friend,” you say. Calling people instead of talking to them physically does something to your inhibitions. 

“...should I not?” 

“No, no, I’m happy,” you say over the phone. You’ll forget this conversation tomorrow, at least, when the sun has risen and the night returns back the hold you have over yourself, your composure, to you. You’ll act like this never happened. So you’ll say whatever you want to now, disgorging yourself of years of withheld secrets. “I’m happy that we’re still friends. I think I like that. 

“Yeah?” 

“Um— yeah, it seems like a good place to start,” you grin slightly. “And I, well. I don’t really have any friends beyond Yuuji,” —You’re not even sure if Tsumiki still sees you as a friend— “Even if I may have acquaintances like Sasaki or Iguchi it still feels like Yuuji’s one of the only people I can give that kind of title to, so, um… the more the merrier?” 

“That’s… nice.” 

“...it is, isn’t it?” 

“Thank you.” 

Why? “Okay.” 

The two of you go through the next few seconds in silence, time feeling like it’s blending and bleeding into a mix of years and events. You can hear the light, steady sound of his breathing from the other line. If you could, you’d sleep to it— fuck the phone bill, you’ll be the one paying it in your father’s stead this time if it was for this. 

It’s comforting, and you don’t want to break it— the quiet. If he can hear you now, can hear how you’re breathing through a smile with your chest only slightly moving, you hope it feels the same as the sound of his breathing did for you. You hope it feels just like home. Like a warm pillow in the one place you love the most that you bury your head into when the weather gets especially cold. 

“Fushiguro!” 

Oh dear. 

Wincing at the sound of the creaking door’s shrill shriek as it's opened and then hits the wall, you know exactly who it is— you’d recognise that voice anywhere. 

“Is that Yuuji?” 

“Oi! I told you not to barge into my room like that!” Megumi shouts. 

“Huh? You’re calling someone? Sorry. Wait, is it [Name]?” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“Hi, Yuuji.” 

“Can I talk to her?” 

“Is it alright if we do, Megumi? Just for a few seconds.” 

“Fine,” he sighs. You can practically hear that eye roll. 

“Yo!” he cheers. 

“Has everything been okay lately?” you ask. 

“Yeah. We’re meeting a new student soon.”

“Ah, yeah. Megumi told me.” 

“—Oh, and my uniform came in! It looks pretty neat.” 

“That’s good. Maybe you can send me a picture once you start wearing it, then.” 

“I will!” 

Things are going better than you thought they would. 

21-6-2018

It’s been a few days now. 

You don’t know Sasaki and Iguchi well enough to call them friends, but the three of you do know each other. You had never decided to change any contacts with them, and considering that they and you were never closer than acquaintances, friends of a friend— you had never really regretted it. But now that Yuuji is gone— and you know he’s not dead, but still— you wonder whether you should have gotten closer to them, just to be less alone once Yuuji left, even if it could not be the way things were with Yuuji. (“I thought I was a pretty lonely guy, and sometimes I still do. Like— I mean, you’re a lonely girl too sometimes, I think,” he had told you as you patched him up.) 

Still, Yuuji and you were two peas in a pod— so they’re bound to ask what happened to him soon enough, especially Iguchi. 

You’ll have to start getting used to spending your Thursdays alone. And then you’d have to start getting used to every other day without him, too. If you went to the arcade or watched movies or sing-screamed the lyrics to English songs you don’t know the Japanese translations of without his presence there, you know how it wouldn’t feel the same. In life it’s not what you do that matters, you’ve come to realise— it’s who you’re doing these things with. That’s what puts meaning to it all and makes all things done in your life worthwhile. 

The two of them pass you by during lunch. 

“[Last Name]? —Oh, hey!” Sasaki says as she turns around. 

You almost scream and run away like a mouse fleeing from the eyes of a vicious house cat, tremors in your voice. “Hello…” 

“Where’s Yuuji, by the way? The occult club’s going to fall apart without him.” 

You pause. “He transferred to another school…” 

“Huh?” she goes, Iguchi almost reeling back in shock. “Transferred? But why? We’ve barely even made it to the middle of the year!” 

“I… I don’t know, it was something really urgent,” 

23-6-2018 

Your room is a cluttered mess— lucky as you are that it’s the weekend, the past week has been a rollercoaster that knocked your room’s usual standard of cleanliness off track. Scattered all over your desk were worksheets, notebooks, graph paper pages and foolscap paper, chicken-scratch writing and meticulous notes scribbled all over them to compensate for your absence the day after the incident took place. 

It isn’t the time or the discipline you lack— it’s just that it’s going to be awfully tedious. You’ll have to wipe your desk again, and clean the walls, and sort through all your clothes, too, since you haven’t been folding them in any way that isn’t merely fastidious and nearly careless. So as you get to work, you suppose that calling someone wouldn’t hurt. 

Maybe you could call Megumi. That would be okay. 

For the past few years, you’ve never noticed it. So when you do, it hits you like a bullet train at the fastest of speeds. 

You miss him. Not just in the way you miss 2010, the way you miss the past, the way you miss and mourn the person you used to be. It had been so obvious for Tsumiki, but not for him, and now that you know this it’ll be another quiet revelation— another rediscovery of fragments of yourself concealed by memories. 

You miss him— all of him; you yearned to be his friend again because he was unlike Tsumiki who you knew cherished you as you did her; you miss him regardless of who he is now, because somewhere inside him is the boy who read dog books and brought you to the school library and ran your finger through water when you burned it. Somewhere inside him is the person who offered to hold your bag as he walked with you through a snowy garden, and helped you when your nose bled. 

So it would be okay to call Megumi right now. 

“Fushiguro speaking.” 

“Hi, Megumi. Are you busy?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Want to call?” 

“Fushiguro!” It’s Yuuji. “Wanna go—” 

“I said I’m not going!” 

You chuckle, “Be nice. Were the two of you supposed to go somewhere?” 

“Nothing important. Gojo said he wanted us to ‘bond’ with each other, so he concluded that we could watch a movie. Some kind of gory horror film or something.” 

He’s… actually making an obvious effort not to scold Yuuji that much or call him some insulting, derogatory term this time… wow. 

“Ah, yeah. Yuuji likes his horror movies.” 

“Anyway, anything urgent you wanted to tell me?” 

“No, I’m just… uh—” you laugh nervously, “I’m just a little bored.” Nowadays you’re not really sure what he’d do— scold you, maybe, or roll his eyes so hard that you can hear it over the line, or he may even flash into a quick bit of awkwardness and hesitation through his words. 

Or maybe— and this was the worst of it all, he’d ask why you were calling him, and his bouts of awkwardness would have only been something temporary, soon to be replaced once again by anger and annoyance, the same he gives to everyone else— even if you knew he didn’t always mean it, per se. No more special treatment for you. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, uh… I have to clean, and usually it’s not as much as what I have to do today, so I just thought that since the only other person in the house is my father and we don’t really talk much anymore, we could, um… chat for a while. Yeah.” 

“Okay.” 

“Uh-huh, so.” You stand up, leaving your phone on your desk and putting the call on speaker mode. The mountain of papers and books is a wasteland and your desk has been degraded to a landfill— the state of it would make your mother a wailing mess— no, she’d faint instantly as soon as she saw it, becoming worse of a mess than the table itself was. “Anything interesting happened lately?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh—! Yuuji sent me a picture of his uniform the other day. Was that one special?” 

“Yeah. But they let students make adjustments to the uniform, and he said he hadn’t changed anything, so I think that was Gojo’s doing.” 

“Oh, well, that’s Gojo. It suits him, though, right? Not to sound mean or be presumptuous, but…” you chuckle, “When you wear the uniform, you look so formal. It’s not a bad thing— it’s just that Yuuji’s just always been more casual like that. And the red of the hoodie goes with his hair, too!” 

“I guess so.” 

“I can’t imagine you wearing anything other than the default uniform, though. Not to insult you, I mean, you still look good in the normal uniform, I just— can’t imagine it.” You remark, sorting the materials and books by size and subject. You’ve got to handle some of the drawers, too, now that you’ve started and can’t stop your momentum just yet. You can already feel the dust particles that have gathered on whatever is inside them still, jostling around once you’ve taken them out. 

“If you’re going to say it like that, you can just say it outright.” 

“No, no! I mean that I just can’t imagine you wearing, like, Yuuji’s uniform. Wait, what do the other students’ uniforms look like?” 

“The second years?” 

“Yeah. Did they choose the normal ones?” 

“Inumaki did. They have three boys and one girl, but only two of the boys wear the normal uniform. Okkotsu has a special uniform in white.” 

“Oh, I see,” you nod your head, “It’s a nice uniform, though. I wish I could wear a uniform that pretty.” 

“You could always enrol yourself here,” he suggests, “They’d welcome you with open arms.” 

“Maybe they will,” you chuckle, “But my mother would be adamant on me staying in the ‘normal’ world. She’s unyielding like that.” 

“And your father?”

“Wouldn’t mind, at least I don’t think…” you say, “I’ll have to wonder when to tell him if I do end up in jujutsu high; you never know when he’s mad. He’s always unpredictable like that nowadays and it’s not… particularly pleasant.” 

“I see. It would be good if you were here, though. You would be closer to Dr Ieiri that way. And it would do good, because, um… well, I’d like you here. You’d be… good for the people around you here.” 

“Ah, you— you would?” you ask, slightly phased— not like he hasn’t been a bit nicer to you since you’ve seen him again (maybe it was the awkwardness, maybe it was the guilt). “Thank you,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging up sheepishly, heading to the dusty drawer (you haven’t touched it in what feels like years, usually excluding it from your list of things to clean). 

After a scrupulous amount of wiping away at the dust outside of and surrounding it, you open the drawer with a slight bit of anticipation— you don’t expect much, but you’re a person who lingers on the past like a ghost that has forgotten how time has passed. There wouldn’t be much in this drawer to reminisce on, you presume, but you still approach it with an eager fascination— you’re the type to do so, after all. 

Of everything there, the most noteworthy are two things you grabbed almost immediately— you could never forget how they felt, and the weight that they held in your life back then: a letter, addressed but never delivered to the person you were talking to right now, and a cigarette with a hastily scribbled slew of numbers on it and a lipstick mark on its end. 

Oh, that letter. That letter.  

From what you remember, you’ve never rebelled against your parents before. At least, not with anything major— for a long time, you were their good girl, and you never disobeyed them, as much as you wanted to at times. You still are, still stuck with that age-old drive to be useful. (But was there even a point in that anymore? At least, was there one with your parents?). You didn’t picture yourself as any kind of righteous goody-two-shoes, but you definitely weren’t a rebel or a delinquent. You followed their instructions and seldom ever questioned what they told you, and so it had always been subtly implanted in your brain that they would be alright with anything you did or said. Yet the first time you did actually start to question them, you realised that their belief in your ‘obedience’ as pure love— and maybe it was; you loved them so much you were blinded and trusted them with everything and did anything they wanted their baby to do— you realised they only treated you so lovingly if you were not an actual person with your own ideals and beliefs. 

(But they still loved you, right?) 

Even now, you still do obey them and listen to them. If your father needed anything, he could consider it done; if your mother wanted her clothes to be patched up you’d try your utmost best to withstand the pricking of needles and bring it back to her hospital room with bandaged fingers. It was like that with your mother: even if at times it seemed like the only pain she wanted for you was callouses from a pen or pricks from needles, at other times you feel she could have known you’d end up like her, maybe. Maybe she saw it as a curse: the worlds the two of you were born in were different, and she wanted you to stay in yours, lest you die or live in a world of endless pain. 

You’ve been doing it for a long time: being dismissive of yourself, prone to self-prostration, subservient; the lovingness of a mother, the sweetness of a teenage girl (you hoped), the kindness of a caring friend. Maybe it was Tsumiki— maybe it was because you’d always seen this in Tsumiki. She was always smiling, always caring; taking on the weight of motherhood before she could carry the weight of her school bag. Hugging you with her saccharine smile; braiding her hair with gentle hands and holding your wrist with her hair tie on it even gentler. (You still have it with you. You had planned to start taking it off more once Yuuji left, but you suppose some habits take longer than a week to develop.) All while having that sickening, fantastical, mysterious sweetness of a teenage girl in what you now understand could have been a hidden misery— because caring for someone like a mother while suppressing the thoughts that spoke to you to act like a child was something you wanted to replicate until you realised you understood it. And then you no longer wanted to recreate it. (Maybe that was the way it was for every woman or girl you knew: watching someone you loved hurt themself or not being able to do anything to prevent it when they started. Life was a cycle that way. A very annoying, frustrating one full of unfortunate circumstances and wrongly-picked out decks of cards.) 

“…you know what? I think I may be able to come,” you tell him. 

“You don’t have to go against your father for our sake.” 

“No, don’t worry about it. I think I know who to ask for help. Thank you, Megumi.” 

“Hi, Dr Ieiri?” 

“Kid? That you?” she goes, the slightest bit of excitement stark against her usual deadpan tone. “I thought you’d never call because of that old man.” 

“Haha, yeah— sorry to disturb you, but, um, Dr Ieiri? I may want to take you up on that offer, by the way, but um, I’m still on the fence. I mean, I know I want to be like you and do what you do but… I don’t know, I’m not quite sure about leaving the two of them alone here and all. But anyway, I just called you because I wanted to ask if there was, you know, any way you could get me to Tokyo somehow. I need to pass something to someone, but, um… I guess I’m going with this with the hope that I’ll change my mind and join you. But I’m… perpetually on the fence for now, I guess.” 

“Pft,” she snorts, “You little rebel, I’m in. I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Thank you so much.” 

24-6-2018 

The decision and the plan were made as swiftly as you could. 

You decide to tell your father— you wouldn’t want to deceive him, after all. At least, you’d give him a quick notice. And then you’d leave. Like a snowflake before the first day of spring. He’ll probably tell your mother.  

“I’m leaving for Tokyo for a while,” you say, “I’ll be back before you can even realise I’m gone. Invitation from Dr Ieiri.” 

25-6-2018

“Why?” your father asks, the night before you leave. He suggested going out together at least once before you left. He always knew when you were making white lies. 

“I guess that maybe I’m just too much like you, Daddy.” 

For the first time in years he hugs you on the doorstep, patting you on the back on the day you’re set to leave. “Make sure you study and work hard,” he reminds you. 

“I’m leaving for Tokyo,” you announce.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy,” she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t even blink. 

“I’m not.” You are. 

“You know, your father travelled all over the country to see me again after we’d first met.” 

“Oh. Okay?” 

“And he’s always been dedicated to his job and dedicated to helping people.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I’m saying that the two of you are very similar. I’ve lived through this story before,” she states, “And you look just like your father right now.” your mother says. She hasn’t smiled the way she used to— you remember it vividly, that vibrant gleam in her, the liveliest and loveliest of life— in ages and you don’t think she will, not now of all times. 

“Really? Sometimes he says I take after you more.” 

“You will.” 

It doesn’t feel like a curse. Even if it usually would make your heart well up in guilt, it doesn’t feel like a curse. 

Maybe she knows that her time is running out. Maybe this is resignation. Whatever it is, you hold her hand first, but you’re also the first one to let the other go, your fingers slipping away from hers. You leave the door for the last time in a while, making another round in your life of that carousel of abandonment and reuniting and departures. 

25-6-2018 

Dr Ieiri greets you with a calm smile on her pallid face. 

“Good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to be back here,” you sigh. 

It is. 

You keep your hand on your other hand’s wrist, holding them in front of you. The cherry hair tie on it feels warm against your skin as you exit the station, summer heat embracing it softly. 

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

#WE'RE FINALLY ON TRACK WITH THE AO3 VER WOOO!! #jjk x reader #take me back (take me with you) #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi #fushiguro megumi #megumi fluff #megumi angst #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x fem!reader #fem!reader #ruer writes #megumi x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #megumi imagine #fanfiction #jjk fanfiction

[goingbydrew]

Time to teach the rest of the aftg fandom about slurs in the books that are used WAY too casually by some of y’all. The m word which is used against little people(people with dwarfism). The c word which is most often used against people with a handicapping physical disability. The word ‘rat’ when used agains asian people often has racist connotations. The r slur, which i don’t see used by fans but still needs to be addressed. There are also the homophobic ones, but i don’t see them used

#the explanation for each word is linked in the words #yall really need to do better #it's embarrassing #ready to be disappointed by the number of people who will ignore this #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #dan wilds #matt boyd #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #renee walker #Allison Reynolds

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us #my writing #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us

[walks-the-ages]

Gaia Thomas G0fundme Scam Update - 3/05/2024 (March 5th, 2024) !

As of 8 hours previously of the creation of this post on March 5th, 2024, Gaia Thomas posted updates on three of the G0fundmes that she had organized, announcing her bank had caught a scam, which is (supposedly) , why she had halted donations on various g0fundmes, and withdrawn thousands and thousands of dollars from the g0fundmes in question:

Dear donors, I was the victim of an online scam. My credit union caught the scam. In the interests of donor safety, I blocked donations at that time. The evidence is in the hands of the Alameda Police Department. Please be aware that this could happen to you. All funds have been repaid in the form of donations to the original fundraiser as requested by the GoFundMe team. I have asked G0FundMe to return the funds to the hands of the original donors. Sincerely, Gaia Thomas

Attatched to the 3/5/2024 update was the following screenshot:

[ID begins: A screenshot from an email, from G0FundMe Trust and Safety team that reads: Hello Helen, Thank you for letting us know. We want to make this process as easy as possible, due to the circumstance, so we can refund donors and close the fundraisers. Can you let me know when you will be able to return the withdrawn amounts? Before we issue refunds, we can help you post an update to donors so they are aware of why they are being refunded. You can donate the withdrawn amounts so we can refund all donors for all three fundraisers: Donate $17,978 to return to the withdrawn amount to this fundraiser using this link [ https://www.gofundme.com/f/hope-in-the-crisis-aid-for-mai-and-her-family/donate ] Donate $5,108 to return the withdrawn amount to this fundraiser using this link [ https://www.gofundme.com/f/save-the-life-of-kareem/donate ] Donate $96.50 to return the withdrawn amount to this fundraiser using this link: [ https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-a-family-rebuild-fundraiser-for-noor-eleyan/donate ] Please let me know once those funds have been returned so we can begin refunding donors I'll keep an eye out for your reply Mateo Gofundme trust & safety team End ID]

So, from the screenshot of an email she provided, it looks like the fundraisers for Maia, Kareem, and Noor are going to be closed, and all donations are going to be refunded to the original donors??

Gaia Thomas was also forced to return the amounts she had withdrawn from each fundraiser:

[ID: Three images, each showing the Gofundme fundraisers for Mai, Kareem, and Noor, in that order. Mai's fundraiser is at $38,301 out of the $35,000 goal, with Gaia Thompson having donated back $17,968 seven hours ago. Kareem's fundraiser is at $10,848 out of the $15,000 goal, with Gaia Thomas having donated back $5,108 seven hours ago. Noor's fundraiser is at $197 out of the $25,000 goal, with Gaia Thomas having donated back $97 eight hours ago. End ID]

so It looks like the publish backlash has at least worked a little bit, Gaia Thomas is not getting away with thousands of dollars in fraud, BUT, Mai, Kareem, and Noor's fundraisers are all being shutdown by Gofundme, assumedly because Gaia claimed she'd been ~scammed~ as her excuse for withdrawing thousands of dollars in donations.

Is *anyone* in any kind of direct contact with Mai, Kareem, or Noor, so someone who is actually trustworthy can set up new fundraisers so we can immediately get the word out, once the g0fundmes close and people start getting their refunds??

Until we know more, here's the direct links to the existing fundraisers organized by Gaia, so we can keep track of what her 'explanation' of a 'scam' is.

Remember, do not donate to these links until we know more, the fundraisers might be closed completely with full refunds, or she might try something else to keep the funds to herself:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/hope-in-the-crisis-aid-for-mai-and-her-family

https://www.gofundme.com/f/save-the-life-of-kareem

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-a-family-rebuild-fundraiser-for-noor-eleyan

#Gaia Thomas #Mai Rajab #Kareem Alaklook #Noor Eleyan #free palestine #palestine #please signal boost this!!! #israel #gaza #free gaza

[tteokdoroki]

VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.

✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less. 

you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu. 

he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard. 

he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend. 

okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.

you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.

there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him. 

you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust. 

rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day. 

much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her. 

they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.

rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.

his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned. 

things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.

then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl. 

maki zenin.

you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.

it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.

your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call. 

yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul. 

but you were never strong when it came to him. 

and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.

voicemail #1  - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”

this isn’t like him. 

even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood. 

you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.

but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call. 

to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord. 

panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.

even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?” 

you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to. 

you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.

when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you. 

but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him. 

voicemail #2  - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.” 

oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together  and just…take in the quiet. 

be close to one another.

so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.

it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’ 

maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care. 

you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years. 

the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.

he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.

“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”

you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“

“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace. 

the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.” 

okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.” 

“yeah?” 

“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“ 

your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real. 

confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood. 

“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.

“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.

“really? you don’t look like it.” 

running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.” 

“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.” 

needs it more than he needs you.

“okay.” you say simply, blankly.

“okay.” he says back. 

the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten. 

voicemail #3 -  “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”

yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect. 

you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.

its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.

“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“ 

you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.

“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”

without you.

you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.” 

your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”

the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat. 

“i’m always here for you, yuuta.” 

“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.” 

you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep. 

ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest. 

“i love you too.”

voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”

for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy. 

but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart. 

even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.

“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”

kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.

he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.

okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name

“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”

“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”

the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.” 

he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone. 

you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold. 

but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.

“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“

“and?” 

“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”

hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice. 

through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.

his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up. 

“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness. 

he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.” 

he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”

there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.

voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”

there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.

there were no secrets, no major ones.

until now.

“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”

the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.

with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.

your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.

as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.

and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.

he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.

“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”

voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!” 

( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )

yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left. 

he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.

and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.

it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.

was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages  the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.

yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.

yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…

yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?

yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.

yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.

yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.

you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.

“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.

you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.

“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”

“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”

“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”

you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”

he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!” 

“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“ 

“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?” 

“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!” 

the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening. 

“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”

your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”

yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.

before you can hear him say that he loves you too.

voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.” 

the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.

after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend. 

gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.

sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you. 

so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person. 

it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.

and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.

tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot. 

his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.

yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.

he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.

your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.

you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth. 

his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.

“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!”  the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.

“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit. 

he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour  like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”

yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets. 

“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.

every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm. 

“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”

blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…” 

his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist. 

your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free. 

“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.” 

you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck. 

that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“ 

“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine. 

“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”

all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss. 

“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.

“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.

you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length. 

yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit. 

“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.” 

“never?” you ask, hiccuping.

“never.” he moans.

you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together. 

the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just  kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.” 

“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.”  you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.

yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!” 

you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine  and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all. 

“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.” 

“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #yuuta okkotsu smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuuta x you #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #okkotsu yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x you #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #angelshubnetwork

[bunnysbrainrot]

Discreet

Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk

Relationship: Dean Winhester x Reader

Content: Sexual content, implied sex, sexting, Dean has a breeding kink, mentions of cum/creampies, exhibitionism fantasies.

Summary: While trying to focus on research, Dean executes a plan to distract you, shamelessly in front of his brother. Can you hold it together, or will you crack under the pressure?

"Hold on, I think we're looking at the wrong Louisville," Sam speaks up. You whip your head to the brother before opening your laptop to inspect for yourself.

Dean arches an eyebrow, "Sam, there are a million Louisville's, you gotta narrow it down."

In his lap, Dean begins to type into his phone. You shift in your seat, staring at your open laptop, opened to a list of different states that are each home to a different Louisville. In your back pocket your phone vibrates against your chair. You glance at Dean before opening the new notification.

I'm bored.

You stifle a laugh but roll your eyes, replying to Dean.

Another vamp case isn't enough for you?

You see Dean smirk out of your periphery. Sam's brows furrow as he mutters to himself, scrolling through different sites and resources, occasionally asking for your and Dean's input.

"We've checked Kentucky and Georgia already - I think Ohio should be next on our list."

"Since when do Vampires attack cities just based on its name?"

Sam clears his throat. Your phone vibrates in your hand; you swiftly check the message, but instantly forget the start of Sam's explanation.

You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now.

A rush of red floods your cheeks before you shove the phone back into your pocket. You snap back to attention for Sam, though your mind is traveling elsewhere.

"The way I see it, vampires can have a pretty twisted sense of humor. It's possible that vamps from all of these different states thought it would be funny to go after their own Louisvilles."

Despite Sam's talking, Dean's attention is set on you as you try to pay attention. He smiles when he watches you falter over Sam's words, and laughs when you have to ask Sam to repeat part of what he said. Of course Sam pays little mind at first and simply reiterates, but still shifts his attention to Dean. You take a break to reply to him.

right now??? Dean we're literally in the middle of our research.

A swift reply from a too-cool Dean: I know.

You put down your phone with a short exhale and school yourself back into a research mindset. A few minutes pass without a disturbance, save for the occasional comment or question from you or Sam, but there was radio silence from Dean. Until he prods further, at least.

"Hey, check the link I sent you," after you perk your head up, you realize that Dean's focus is on you once again.

"Could you send it to me, too, Dean?" Sam requests.

Dean quickly changes the subject, "It's not for the case, it was somethin' we were talking about earlier. But trust me, if I find anymore nerd content, I'll send it your way."

Sam gives his brother a glare before he tends back to his laptop. You comply with Dean and look at your phone, and it takes everything in your willpower to keep yourself collected.

I would fuck you on this table right now, if I could. You're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

You accidentally chuckle, bringing Sam to attention again. You mutter an apology at his confused look and you both look back to your computers. Hiding your phone behind your laptop screen and out of view, you watch the flood of Dean's texts come in.

You would sound so much prettier if I could hear your screams echo off the walls.

Warmth floods between your thighs - you instinctively clench onto nothing but the thought of Dean buried in you, splayed wide on the mahogany table. Your mind rushes to the idea of Dean bending you over onto the wood, holding you firmly at the hips as he juts his hips from behind.

Everything alright, sweetheart?

His teasing leaves you scowling at your phone. Hopefully your expression could be assumed to be directed at your research, which hasn't made any progress, no thanks to Dean. You debate your reply before sending it.

What else would you do?

You see a smile stretch Dean's lips as he prepares his response. You tense as you await, but his text is drawn out, making you wait. Dean was delivering this flawlessly - just enough to watch you squirm and lose yourself to the thoughts.

I would start out slow. Ideally you'd just be in a t-shirt and panties, sitting right here in front of me on the table. I would lean you back, and slowly pull your panties to the side...

It was all he gave you, for the time being. You shift in your seat again, clicking your laptop a few times to build the illusion of intent research.

Your phone buzzes with a new message.

I would start with my fingers. I'd tug your panties to the side, and slip a finger in. You'd sound so much better when you'd try to keep quiet. I would make you come with one finger, then two, then three.

The reply to him is short, but it's all you can muster as you've fallen under his spell, Would we be alone?

Dean clears his throat before he rises from the table. He holds an arm in front of his crotch and quickly turns to leave for the kitchen.

"Want a beer?" he asks generally.

Fuck, you needed more than a beer. To deal with this, he should've offered a handle of vodka for you to drown out the untimely advances.

"Sure," echo you and Sam, smiling at each other that you spoke at the same time. After all these months with the brothers, you all had really begun to mimic behaviors. It was a beautiful sign of the time you've shared and the intricate work you all put into your relationships.

It's a nice way to clear your clouded head. That is, until you see a new reply from Dean. You make a particular effort to watch Sam out of the corner of your eye.

Doesn't matter. If someone was home, they'd have a hell of a show.

You quip, You're feeling pretty bold, huh?

He reminds you, Again, you're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

Dean comes back into the room, meticulously holding three beers in one hand, while he texts with the other. You're intently eyeing your phone as you await his reply.

I'd add my tongue, too. I know exactly what pretty sounds you make when I've got my fingers in your pussy, and your clit in my mouth. You'd look so pretty trying to grip onto the table.

The scowl stitching your brows together softens as you feed into the flirtations. A fresh flow of heat melts between your legs, reminding you immediately of the power Dean could have over your body, even without using his hands.

You'd be shaking by the time I was done. You would be begging like you always do. Begging for my cock, begging me to fill up your needy pussy. Cause my hands just aren't enough to fuck you dumb, are they?

Breath hitches in your throat. Are you seriously about to full-on sext Dean right in front of his brother? Surely, Sam would have to notice at some point, though Dean shows no sign of him regarding it.

No, sir, you admit. You prop your phone back on your laptop and 'continue to research', pathetically at that.

Sweet girl is always needing my big cock to ruin her insides, isn't she?

The image of Dean's length intrudes your thoughts, throbbing and leaking with beads of precum. You can envision its warmth at your entrance, and the way Dean notches the thick head of him into your tight hole before he eases himself inside. Your fingers ache with the effort of not shoving them into your slicked panties to toy with yourself.

Dean's teasing doesn't ease in the slightest. If anything, it seems like he's trying to have you undone. Begging.

You'd ride me in the chair, first. I would have you fuck yourself onto my cock, but you wouldn't be able to come yet. Not until I can watch the way I stretch you open on the table.

Sam's muttering saves you from falling too deep into the rabbit hole Dean's excavated for you. You steady your breath, debating the risk of replying back to Dean. If he's finding amusement in doing this, you can't tell - his expression is cool and collected, to your frustration.

Do you know that your tummy bulges when I'm inside you? I'd make you watch. You'd see how my big cock shoves into that tight pussy, stretching her wide open for me.

You squirm helplessly in your seat, crossing your legs to stifle the dull throbbing radiating from your clit. With your thighs shifting together, you brace yourself to finally issue a reply.

You're mean

Dean audibly chuckles. Sam inspects him and scowls, "Dean, are you even doing your research? We really need to work on this - we're leaving tomorrow."

The eldest Winchester trains his expression back to utter seriousness, "Y'gonna wring my neck for taking a break?"

"This is important-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean dismisses, zoning back in on his own laptop and ignoring his glaring brother. You ease slightly now that the heat is pushed to Dean. But, the texts don't stop. Dean assumes a stronger façade, steeling his poker face.

You like it, though. I don't think you understand how wet you get when I'm a little mean. You love being my perfect slut. I wish you knew how tight you feel when I call you a whore.

The answer was evident in your sex. Your walls flutter around the emptiness in your neglected pussy, longing for a proper filling. Lust glazes your eyes as you glance up at Dean, finding him smirking knowingly at you. Fuck him. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Dean, I'm sending you some articles. These are from the Lousiville in Ohio - those deaths look pretty similar."

Sam's words fall on deaf ears. After a few moments, Dean finally opens the links his brother sent him, giving you a bit of a break from his relentless texts.

You direct your attention back to your laptop and ogle at the screen. The thoughts Dean planted in your mind run a rough course, battering you with each thrust and moan that could be happening if you and Dean were alone.

Assuming Dean's read the articles, you stare at his next text, heat rumbling in your gut.

Would you be a good cumslut? Would you take my cock like a needy little whore?

He needs an answer. Dean needs to know that his words are taking effect, and he wants to hear it from you - how eager you are.

You reply, I would. I'll be a good girl.

Because you know what I do with brats, right? Dean's reply shudders through your core.

This time, you don't reply. Ultimately, his question is rhetorical and answered immediately in your subconscious. Any sort of bratty behavior is quickly corrected by either Dean's punishment, or a complete denial of any stimulation until you were begging for Dean's forgiveness. You'd spent countless times on your knees, in front of Dean's cock, begging for him to absolve you, and fuck you senseless.

If you're good, I'll give you what you want. How does it feel when my cum is deep inside of you?

The drenched fabric of your panties rubs against your slick folds. You adjust your sitting position, sitting up to let yourself open onto the material of your underwear. Ever so slightly, you grind yourself in your seat, watching Sam intently out of the corner of your eye, hoping he won't notice the feeble attempt to get yourself off.

The reply is short, It feels good, sir.

Dean clears his throat, and pretends to open a web browser.

I know, sweetheart. Feels good to keep me in your sweet pussy, keeping all of my cum for yourself. It feels so good to breed your cunt.

A deeper strain aches at your arms, urging yourself to take your own break to relieve yourself in the bathroom. Dean can see you squirm in your chair, and intentionally avoid his stare.

He texts you again, trying to earn a visible response to his taunts.

After I'm done, I would hold your legs open and watch my cum leak out of you. One of these days, I want to see how many times I can do it in a day. You'd be messy all day long.

You envision it yourself - the foreign image of white, warm ropes of Dean's cum spilling out of your stretched cunt and onto the floor below, wasted. Tightness pulls your abdomen taught as you think about being bred for an entire day, all to Dean's satisfaction. Your pussy clamps down onto nothing, yet again, at the sheer thought of it.

"I'll send you the same articles I sent to Dean. Let me know what you think," Sam is honing in on you this time. You nod and keep an eye out for the incoming links, and click on them. Eyeing them intentionally, you try to shove aside the persistent fantasies from taking over your senses.

Another text pops up on your screen.

It would be a lazy day. In the morning I would fuck you slow, giving you your first load of the day. We'd make lunch. You'd still be sore, but not as sore as you'd be after we eat.

Your mind travels elsewhere. The computer screen fades out of your attention as your eyes glaze over again.

I would fuck you on the kitchen table. You'd pull your panties up right after I was done and sit in my cum for hours, waiting for more. I wouldn't let you take those panties off. You wouldn't waste anything I gave you.

He was exactly right. It didn't matter how many times Dean had spilled himself into you, you relished the feeling of his cum buried deep inside of your pussy, precisely where it should be.

You want to touch yourself, don't you, sweetheart?

Your fingers twitch at the screen, as if they want to follow Dean's question to provide him a swift answer.

I want you to fuck me.

Dean's smirk grows. Your breath grows strained as he replies.

Needy little slut.

It would've been your undoing if it weren't for Sam's company. You throw a pitiful look toward Dean, but it goes ignored.

You'd let me take you anywhere in this bunker, wouldn't you? I could fill you up in every room of this place.

You reeled over the number of room's in the bunker, listing them off until you lost count. The slick between your folds soaks your panties further as you writhe gently in your chair.

I know you will. You would love knowing that I've stuffed your cunt in every room. And no one else would know, but we would. It would give you plenty to think about.

The mere idea of it gave you more than enough to go off of. How Sam hasn't realized that something's amiss, you don't understand, but are silently thankful that he can't see your unraveling. Dean, however, cannot focus on anything else. The strain of his cock against his jeans is bordering on discomfort, but he intends to keep you under his spell.

He lowers a hand to his lap and slightly grazes the growing bulge. Dean seems to have teased himself just as much as he did you - all thoughts of research dissolved in the presence of his new fantasies.

I'll bet you $10 that Sam is gonna run an errand after this. We should see how well we can use the free time.

A new tension tightens in your tummy. There would be no telling how long Sam would be occupied for, but Dean didn't see any qualms.

Yes, but maybe not in the main hall, for everyone to see us?

Your compromise is accepted. Dean nods slightly across from you, still staring at his laptop screen, then glancing to his phone.

Prude.

Under the table, you kick Dean's shin. He yelps at the new pain in his leg, earning a confused look from his brother. Sam looks between the two of you quizzically.

"Do y'all need a room to yourselves, or something?"

Dean smiles at his brother, avoiding your new glare, "No, no, we're fine. Aren't we, baby?"

The glare doesn't let up, but you don't reveal the truth of your texts with Dean. You look to Sam and jab a thumb toward his brother.

"He's being a dick, can you punch him for me?"

Without question, Sam delivers a firm punch to Dean's arm. Dean's shocked frustration is met with a devilish smirk from you, satisfied that you're now blameless. A moment after the brotherly bickering, a new text lights up your phone.

You're mean

You giggle at the screen and send him a final reply, letting him sit with the thoughts he'd poured into both of your heads.

I know. But, you like it.

Hey everyone! If you enjoyed, please help support my writing by reblogging!

Apologies that this took so long. I appreciate all of your kind messages as I balance how busy life has been lately. Thank you for all of your love and support! Happy reading!

-Bunny

#supernatural #bunny writes #kinktober #dean winchester smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #spn smut #spnfandom #spn #fanfiction

[lovings4turn]

ᯓ★  𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒)

— a few days have passed since you last saw lando, yet your feelings are as strong as ever. there’s nothing like another party to finally set the record straight. (3.2k words)

+ aka. part two of don’t delete the kisses (and my longest fic to date on this blog !!)

+ again mentions of drinking and clubbing, largely fluff . lando n reader are only slightly tipsy ! this took far too long to get out but she's finally here - hope you all enjoy !!!

it had been three days since you’d gone to the club, and three days since you’d consequently fled from the club due to your inability to act normally around lando norris.

you hadn’t seen him since then, but you’d texted back and forth from the morning afterwards. you’d felt bad about the whole thing, just leaving without even finding him to say goodbye, and so made up some excuse about getting too overwhelmed and not wanting to ruin his night with your desire to go home.

and because he was an angel, lando didn’t even question you. instead, he instantly accepted your explanation, assuring you it was more than fine as long as you were okay. he could go without a goodbye, if it meant the best for you.

eighty percent of your subsequent conversations were complete nonsense. ever since you had became close all those years ago, lando had taken it upon himself to text you every single thought he ever had, no matter how menial or silly.

embarrassingly, as a result of being down so, completely, horrifically bad for him, you found each and every one endearing. yes, even the god-awful memes he would send you religiously between the hours of two and five am when he couldn’t sleep.

perhaps it was even worse that you’d go on to forward said memes to other friends, pretending that you had found them. you were unable to prevent the laughs that would escape your lips every time your phone buzzed with a notification from lando.

one on hand, you were on top of the world. on the other, you were going insane.

lando had positively taken over your mind, every corner of your head filled with deep brown curls and impish laughter. even the most menial things proved to link back to lando in some way, a tangled red string of association that to anyone else would make zero sense but was obvious to you.

you were icarus, and lando the sun; something to dream of but never to have. you were certain that if you chased him, your wax wings would melt rapidly as you succumbed to your impulses before you crashed onto the harsh ground of reality.

learning to cope with the heavy feeling of yearning was something you could do. suffering with a little heartache to keep lando in your life far outweighed not having lando at all.

being definitive in your decision to bury your feelings didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle, though.

now more than ever, it seemed impossible to not think about lando, or talk about him, shout his name from the rooftops so the whole world could hear the praises you would sing for him. it appeared to be a pretty clear sign that you were losing any remaining shreds of self control, but what could you do? no matter how many times your head said no, your heart would tell you that it would always be lando, one thousand times over.

a notification lit up your phone screen, and you were convinced it was a sort of cruel taunt from the universe. 

landonorris just posted a photo!

it was borderline masochistic, the way in which you tapped the notification instantly and allowed yourself to be led to lando’s latest instagram photo dump. alongside a few selfies, pictures of him from that night in the club were littered throughout, and though he was posing with friends in each photo, your eyes were focused solely on him.

without really thinking, you pinched the screen, zooming in a little further to admire every detail of lando’s face that had been captured by someone’s iphone. the moles that were dotted across his face like they’d been individually placed there, the unruly curls that begged your fingers to find a home in them, and that fucking smile.

realisation hit soon after, and you caught yourself with a groan. here you were, sitting looking at his pictures with a dopey, love-sick grin on your face, acting like a teenage girl with an innocent classroom crush.

“god! might as well write all over a notebook that he rocks my world or something,” you scoffed, mock disgust lacing your words.

oh great, now you were fucking talking to yourself. christ, what had he done to you?

in an act of frustration, you quickly liked lando’s photo before throwing your phone onto your bed, partially hoping it would get lost amongst the pillows so you couldn’t find it again and fawn over more pictures of your supposed best friend.

a distraction was what you needed. and so you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, praying that maybe cooking a nice meal for yourself would sort you out. either that, or you could hit yourself over the head with a frying pan and hope that the concussion would remove any feelings that breached the label of ‘platonic’.

and for two whole hours, your plan had worked. 

not only were you able to enjoy the delicious meal you’d made, but also got through a good few episodes of the new tv series you had started watching a week or so ago. the lando shaped hole in your mind had been replaced by witty dialogue and pointless character drama, and you were beginning to think that you had everything under control.

that was until you returned to your bedroom and reached for your phone once more, your lockscreen lighting up to display yet another text thread from lando.

lando: going out tomorrow at 10!!!

lando: be there or be square😈

lando: i need my best dance partner w me

fingers dancing across the keyboard, the text was sent before your brain could even think about the invitation.

y/n: i'll b there🥳

it was official: you were absolutely fucked. 

. . .

it was 10:28pm and you were already questioning your decision to come out.

you would say that you had no idea why you’d even agreed to the invitation, but that would be a lie. you knew exactly what had convinced you to get dressed up and leave your house tonight, and that reason was currently grinning at you from his place at the bar, clothed in another stupid button down shirt and sunglasses, of all accessories. 

how he had managed to make sunglasses indoors not only acceptable, but attractive to you was just another sign of the power that the man held over you. you’re sure that if you told your friends, they’d never let you live it down. and hell, you wouldn’t even blame them for it.

from the moment you had arrived, lando had commanded your attention. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t intently tuned in to every word he spoke, each movement of his limbs and the expressions on his face. he had you completely hooked, and you were letting it happen, swept along in the riptide of your stupid crush,

whether it was from the pulsating house music, the shot lando had shoved into your hand the moment you’d shown your face, or even just lando himself, you felt electric. sparks of lightning rippled beneath your skin, every last nerve in your body buzzing with anticipation for something that you couldn’t even put your finger on.

butterflies swarmed your stomach, and if someone were to tell you you were looking at lando with stars in your eyes, you would have no doubt that it was true. because as he grinned at you once more, the lively groups of club-goers began to fade away leaving only a vignette of his figure.

you were experiencing every romantic cliche in the fucking book, all thanks to him.

you were unsure as to whether it was a minute or a hour before he was standing in front of you again, the scent of his aftershave almost taunting you as it enveloped you. lando was expertly clasping two vodka cokes in one hand and two shots of tequila in the other, sporting a lopsided smile.

“lando!” you groaned, actions betraying your scolding tone as you reached out to pluck the shot from his hand before grabbing your drink, careful not to cause lando to spill anything. 

the last thing you needed right now was to spill a drink on lando’s white shirt. the sight of the material slowly becoming see-through until it offered you a glimpse of his tan, toned skin was more than you would be able to handle. 

lando held up the plastic shot glass with a cheeky expression, a silent toast to god knows what, before he tipped the liquid down his throat. his face quickly soured, and he wasted no time in seeing off a large portion of his drink in an attempt to rid himself of the tequila flavour.

“woah, woah, slow down there,” you laughed, gently pushing the cup away from lando’s mouth. “got the whole night ahead of you.”

watercolour eyes dropped to glance at your hand, lando’s stare lingering even after you had pulled your hand back towards your body hastily, as though merely being in the proximity of his body was enough to burn. 

you would have thought it odd, if lando hadn’t immediately taken your hand into his larger one and stalked off towards the dance floor, gently tugging you along without a word. your mind told you that lando had simply felt the effects of his drink quicker than expected, and it took him a minute to realise that leading you to the dance floor was the mission he would give himself for the night.

flashbacks of the last time you were out clubbing with lando played in the back of your mind like an old movie, something you would put on in the background for comfort yet wouldn’t pay much attention to. 

one dance turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it you had been dancing with lando for the better part of an hour, both of you expertly adapting your moves to match the vibe of whatever song the dj decided to play next.

one of the many perks of attending clubs with formula one drivers was that there was an ever-flowing supply of alcohol. it was something you’d discovered after the first few times you had gone out with lando and his friends: you would finish your drink and before you could blink, someone had shoved a new one into your hand, the cup still marbled with cold condensation.

your current drink had been supplied by max, or maybe even carlos, a far too strong liquor mixed with nowhere near enough soda for your liking. your nose scrunched up at the taste, and lando laughed before gently plucking the cup from you, his fingers brushing against your own for a fleeting moment. 

a fire burned in the pit of your stomach, noticing that lando’s lips landed perfectly over the lipgloss mark you’d left moments ago. an indirect kiss. 

much like your own moments prior, lando’s face twisted up into a grimace at the taste, and he shook his head furiously.

“that's fucking awful,” he claimed, leaning down a little to shout his complaints into your ear. “whoever bought you that has shit taste.”

“says the man who bought a round of tequila earlier in the night.”

lando chuckled, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ that held more adoration than malice, in your humble opinion. like he had rehearsed it, lando smoothly palmed your drink off onto max before delicately taking hold of one of your wrists, twirling you around just like he had done a few nights ago.

possibly driven by a subconscious want to set right the events of your last night out, you repeated your own actions and spun lando under your arm in response.

lando’s grin was almost blinding, and he pulled you towards him, your hands still clasped by his as he moved your limbs around like the world’s worst puppetmaster.

you were convinced that, had he had enough room around him, he would have spun you both around until you were dizzy, a move he’d pulled many times when you were dancing together in one of your kitchen’s to pass the time it took to cook your meal. 

sadly, lando had to settle for flailing arms and uncoordinated shimmies, his priority making you smile rather than trying to look suave amongst the mass of bodies at your every turn. 

a few other drivers started to join your circle, handing you both more drinks as they tried to engage in miscellaneous conversation and playfully poked fun at yours and lando’s lack of coordination or apparent shame.

unable to control who stood where, thanks to the power of free will, you had been separated from lando, instead flanked by oscar and george whilst he was wrapped up in a conversation with max fewtrell.

thanks to his position across from you, lando was able to catch your eye, his brow quirked slightly in a silent question meant only for you to decipher. you nodded, a clear response to his wordless communication.

as though it were planned, you and lando began to leave. this was how your last french exit should have been; no longer were you alone and flustered, stumbling into the back of your uber with the desire to bash your head off of a brick wall.

no, this time you had lando’s hand in yours, the pad of his thumb brushing soft circles against the back of your hand as he expertly manoeuvred you both through the crowd, informing you that a car would already be there to take you back to your flat with him in tow. 

apologetic texts and goodbyes weren’t necessary this time around, if the loud, obnoxious whooping and whistling from pierre and charles were anything to go by. with their propensity for gossip, you were sure that every inhabitant in the club would be informed of your swift exit with lando within the hour. 

the ride home was filled with melodic laughter as lando made it his mission to unload every observation he’d made in the past few hours onto you. he’d taken particular interest in the argument two girls were having when he was waiting at the bar, and left no detail out as he recounted the whole event like some sort of one man show, his only audience you. 

the streetlights you passed caused a flickering glow to dance across lando’s features, and the momentary flashes of illumination caused lando to look otherworldly, all shadows and contours framed by deep curls.

lando was so caught up in his story that he was oblivious to your wonderstruck stare, completely unaware of the way you were drinking in every last inch of him, committing each miniscule detail to memory and storing it away for a rainy day. 

good, you thought. he’d only take the piss anyways.

the alcohol rendered you both a little unsteady on your feet, and you snorted a laugh as lando stumbled through your front door, catching his shoe on the tiny step that led into your apartment. 

whoever lived underneath you would likely be cursing your name right now, as neither you nor lando were too concerned about remaining quiet and light on your feet as you bumbled over to your bedroom. comfort was the only thing on your mind, though you made a mental note to push an apology letter underneath the poor soul’s door the next day. 

making himself at home, lando threw himself down onto your bed, the plush mattress eliciting a soft groan from him. his once closed eyes snapped open as you tossed a pair of his joggers at him, a pair he’d left at yours a few months ago (and that you may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to return to him.)

“i’ll get changed in a sec,” lando promised, sinking back into your sheets. “you can too. just, come on, lie down for a bit.”

lando delivered two quick pats to your bed, perhaps hoping it would prompt you to join him faster than you already would have. secretly, you were glad that he thought you needed convincing to lie down with him for a moment.

you pretended to consider it, eyes flitting over to where your makeup remover sat, before you gave in, mumbling an ‘okay’ as you clumsily removed your shoes and clambered onto the bed next to him.

the gap between you both was barely there. if you moved your hand just slightly, your fingers would brush against lando’s side. how easy it would be, just to grant yourself a slice of heaven for once.

lando’s voice brought you out of your trance. 

“when you left, last time…”

an unfinished question. lando was clearly attempting to seem nonchalant as he broached the topic that you had both been skirting around since it had happened, his eyes trained onto the thread of your duvet that he had busied his hands with. 

in that moment, you didn’t think you could ever lie to him, no matter how humiliating the truth was. 

“it got too much. y’hands on me and everything, i got too flustered. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, i guess,” you admitted as an embarrassed smile played on your lips. 

a giggle trickled from lando’s mouth, prompting you to roll onto your side and face him with a raised brow.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothin’. just the fact you fancied me so much that you had to run away from me,” lando responded, grinning mischievously.

your response came in the form of a pillow hitting lando square in the face.

“oi!”

the pillow came flying back, but missed your body by roughly a couple of inches, the alcohol clearly impairing his usually decent aim. 

“missed me,” you taunted.

unexpectedly lando’s face lit up at your words, and he rolled closer to you, propping himself up onto an elbow so that his face was hovering over yours.

you swallowed thickly at the sudden movement, eyes darting across his face frantically as though his motives would be written into the curve of his smile.

“think there’s a saying about that,” lando mused, a hand trailing up your side so gently that you half believed you were imagining it. “missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me, or something.”

and if that wasn’t a sign to press your lips to his, you weren’t sure what was.

you swallowed lando’s sound of surprise as your lips melded with his own, his mouth soft and warm as he more than returned your affections.

clearly not content with the level of control he possessed, lando briefly pulled back and swiped the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before attaching his lips to your once more, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth and nipping at it with a smirk.

it was slow, and a little sloppy, a blend of tongue and teeth as you desperately tried to taste as much of each other as possible.

your grip on lando’s shirt was vice-like, as though you were scared he would disappear if let out of your hands for even a fleeting second.

“don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” lando teased softly, punctuating his words with another kiss. “y’stuck with me.”

and suddenly, everything had become clear. it was always going to be you and lando, a love that would transcend a lifetime.

tags : @wintfleur @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @ssararuffoni @tbsloneely @onecojg @basicchelsea

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris drabble #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

[wispystar]

☁︎·̩͙✧

spencer reid

✦ = finished | ✧ = not finished

Feel free to recommend me some more fics! If there is any author that doesn’t want their work on here pls let me know and I’ll remove it. Series are at the bottom. Be warned for spoilers. I will not be adding spoiler warings so tread lightly please lmk if links arent working

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A Well Kept Secret by @astrophileous

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader | summary: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret. | tw/warnings: established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

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A Little (Major) Crush by @radiant-reid

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer's coldness is interpreted as hate for a very long time until a little admission leads to him accepting th truth

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A memorable hero by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Y/n jumps into the arms of a random FBI agent when she unknowingly talks to a to unsub.

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All stitched up by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, nurse reader | summary: Spencer's unexpected arrival at Y/n's work worries her

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all is fair in love and war by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Can the team convince two arch-enemies that they’re in love with each other?

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Already gone . ii by @favficarchives

genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The reader decides it’s time for her to move on, and Reid realizes it might be too late to stop her.

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Appalachian by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Reader is tired of Spencer purposefully pushing their buttons and demands an explanation.

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babied by @reiderwriter

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?

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Bolinus Brandaris . ii by @violetrainbow412-blog

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau! reader summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

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Bedtime Stories on the Jet by @imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: You and Spencer accidentally cuddle on the jet.

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Betting game by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: the team betting on the two youngest agents relationship

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combat practice . ii by @/reiderwriter

genre:fluff, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: pining spencer reid and bau!reader who are brushing up on some hand to hand combat and reader is really invested on winning finally pins spencer down and reader is straddling spencer | notes: there’s a part two but I can’t find it :|

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Comme des garçon by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Reader chooses an interesting way to finally confess to dating Spencer.

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cuddles by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, dad! spencer | summary: A cuddle with his son is just the thing Spencer needs when he gets home from a hard case

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clingy by @/ddejavvu

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader | summary: When Spencer chides you for being too clingy, you decide to give him exactly what he wants; space.

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carriage six . ii by @avis-writeshq

genre: fluff, fem reader, strangers to lovers | summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book. 

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color theory by @inkdrinkerworld

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: okay wait i could totally see like kinda maybe insecure chubby reader who obvs likes Spence cuz who wouldn’t but afraid to make the first move and early seasons Spencer makes some off handed comment about how beautiful reader is like not even thinking about it maybe during a little tangent or something and r is just like

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Caught in a lie by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: spencer catching you in a lie about a certain cardigan.

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despise by @leahblackk

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Reader is new in the BAU, Spencer doesn’t like changes therefore he doesn’t like reader.

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double vision in a rose blush by @irndad

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: she is the best part of his days, his life, these days, really. the only problem is she never touches him

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Different ways to say ‘I love you’ by @aneveningsword

genre: fluff, gn reader | summary: 3 different ways Spencer shows he loves you

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Dad Spencer by @golden1u5t

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: bringing lunch to the bau and hanging out with Spence

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Defining Family by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, dad Spencer | summary: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

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Every single day by @/astrophileous

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, dad Spencer | summary: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

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Flirt by @luveline

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader I summary: bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she's torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it's his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn't mind, maybe he does and he just doesn't want to tell her

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Familiar by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer’s secret way to sleep is revealed in a moment of upset

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Fever Dream by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Reader makes an accidental confession, which starts the most intense game of hide and seek.

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Flowers by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, gn reader(?), bau reader | summary: could you write abt spencer & bau!reader (secret relationship) and spencer having flowers delivered to their work and the note is really sweet (clearly from a boyfriend) and the team trying to figure out who she's seeing?

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Glasses by @/luveline

genre: fluff, fem reader summary: i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i'm literally frothing at the mouth

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Guilt . ii by @holly-the-trash-writer

genre: angst, fem reader, bau! reader summary: Y/n lies unconscious in a hospital bed while Spencer drowns in guilt. You had felt that Spencer was cheating on you with Maeve and were going to stay with someone else before you got shot. Finding this out causes Spencer to snap and lash out at one of his closest friends.

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his picture in a gold locket by @luvingspence

genre: fluff, fem reader, early season Spence | summary: spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him &lt;3

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how everyone found out by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: a little blurb about how each of the team members found out about a secret BAU relationship

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In Ruins . ii by @weehelers

genre: angst, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn't have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn't explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time? tw/warnings: kidnapping, normal cm warnings

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I can see you by @/reiderwriter

genre: angst, slight fluff, gn reader(?), bau reader | summary: Six months into your secret relationship, you're beginning to think that maybe Spencer doesn't love you the way you love him

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If you won’t do it, I will. by @/eideticallys

genre: fluff, angst, gn reader, bau reader| summary: you were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing. and he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

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I’ll Hold Your Weight When You Can’t by @shewroteaworld

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you. | tw/warnings:

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Just some light stalking by @constantlyembarrassed

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Penelope has been pushing Spencer Reid to get some form of social media for years. Suddenly, he has an Instagram acount?

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Key by @ddejavvu

genre: fluff, gn reader(?) | summary: spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.

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lovely by @lighteyed

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: you think spencer's lovely.

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lipstick by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Maybe, the secret to putting a murderer away is kissing someone you dislike

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little touches by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Just a few moments where Spencer learns how much he loves touches

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Misplaced by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau! reader summary: can i request spencer reid w bau!reader and their married but reader forgets to put her wedding ring back on and derek's asking spencer about what happened/if theyre having marital problems and spencer starts panciking but she just forgot about it in her pocket

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Meeting the team by @tinyluvs

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Being spencer’s girlfriend and meeting the team for the first time?

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Mirror by @moonstruckme

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: BAU!Reader and maybe her and Spencer starting to mimic each other because they've been together for a while and spend so much time together? Like the way they talk, etc!

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My wife . ii by @golden1u5t

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, secret relationship | summary: where you and spencer are married in secret and someone says reid and they both turn around and say ‘yeah’ that’s how the team find out they’re together

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my petite protégée by @somethingubercool

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Y/N is new to the BAU and works under Garcia. she finds herself being able to see something in the case no one else does, impressing the team, including a specific doctor

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New Shade of Green by @sweatervest-obsessed

genre: fluff, angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer Reid and reader are in established relationship and on a case it happens that reader's best friend since childhood assists. And Spencer gets really jealous of their close friendship but is in denial.

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newly creds by @pathologicalreid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: in which the BAU team wants to see your newly issued credentials

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Profilers Profiled by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Cat Adams exposes a secret relationship

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Patch Me Up? Always by @weird-is-life

genre: fluff, fem reader, emt! reader I summary: Spencer accidently reveals your relationship, while you patch him up

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Packed Lunch by @john-get-the-salt

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship, secret relationship | summary: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

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Perhaps One Day by @amberjazmyn

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: five times the bau think spencer has proposed to reader + the one time he actually has

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Play Dates by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Reader finds out Spencer hasn’t had enough dates to play Best/Worst Date with the team and offers several Play Dates, but quickly realizes it’s hard to have a bad date with Spencer Reid.

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Personal Google . ii by @reidyoulikeabook

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer is your own personal Google. He always knows the answer to anything you ask him.

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Recharging… by @railingsofsorrow

genre: fluff, fem reader, | summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.

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Short Circuit by @/tinyluvs

genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship I summary: dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can't info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked

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Sweater by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: On a case in Montana, Y/n’s only coat gets ruined. Luckily, Spencer had a hoodie

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Soft spot by @/luveline

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: your singular soft spot for spencer rises to the surface when you get hurt in the field. tw/warnings: hospitals, injury

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still mad at you by @/irndad

genre: angst, fluff(?), fem reader | summary: Spencer can’t sleep without you, even if you’re fighting.

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sick by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, fem reader| summary: What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her

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Smells Fishy by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Out of place perfume and cologne give away a secret relationship of the BAU.

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Soulmates by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Everyone knew Y/n and Spencer would be the perfect couple, it was just a shame he left the BAU before she joined. 

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secrets . ii by @007reid

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader | summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.

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surprise by @toriwakes

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: reid’s new girlfriend decides to surprise him at work.

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Secrets out by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: a coffee cup reveals a relationship

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secrets and onesies by @/wheelsup

genre: fluff, fem reader, dad Reid | summary: in which spencer is hiding two secrets from you. one, that he knows you’re pregnant, and two, that he’s more than ready for it.

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The jacket . ii by @in-my-shifting-era

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: when in Boston for a case in mid January reader regrets not being a warmer jacket.

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The guaranteed way to get sleep by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer is the only one who can recognize the signs of needing someone in the new agent

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Two of us . ii . iii by @spencerreidreads

genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: working with your partner can be hard especially when the relationship is over

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Tying the knot by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: a blurb or fic about reader and spencer reid’s wedding day? just lots of fluff and happiness can you do one based on “we belong together” by ritchie valens

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thats my wife by @wheelsup

genre: fluff, slight angst(?), fem reader, bau reader | summary: you and spencer have always had a relationship that some refer to as 'work spouses'. it's not until the addition of a new, handsome employee, that spencer has to challenge what that really means to him.

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Unwell by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Instead of getting looked after, Spencer is the one doing the looking after when he realizes his girlfriend is sick.

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unexpected . ii by @michelle-is-writing

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, pregnant reader | summary: it’s hard being in love with a man whose heart is already taken.

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Unbelievable but verified by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The BAU's newest member comes prepared to join the team with a tiny crush on the man who wrote her three favorite thesis papers.

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Under the Rain by @aperrywilliams

genre: angst, fem reader, established relationship | summary: Reader is waiting for Spencer in a restaurant to celebrate their 2nd anniversary. What happens when Spencer doesn't show up?

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worried by @/moonstruckme

genre: slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer is losing his mind when reader is in a dangerous situation and the team doesn’t understand why he’s panicking so much but then he accidentally reveals to the team that he’s been dating reader for awhile

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White Lies by @/moonstruckme

genre: fluff, gn reader(?), bau reader | summary: when you come back to work soon after getting injured on a case, your priority is keeping the public safe from your latest unsub; Spencer's priority is keeping you safe

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Winter Cold by @/john-get-the-salt

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: A run-of-the-mill winter cold becomes the thing that finally reveals your secret to the team.

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Worry Free by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: After the issues of Spencer’s past year, JJ is worried for him, until she finds out an incredibly interesting piece of information

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Who's Your Barber? by @eideticallys

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: “you move fast, kid.” he turned to spencer who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “letting Y/N cut your hair without going on a first date.”

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What’s in a name . ii by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, mom reader | summary: Spencer accidentally gets misidentified by a little kid whose mom means the world to him

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Your Casanova by @dr-spencer-reids-queen

genre: fluff, fem reader, pilot reader | summary: You're the team's jet pilot who always looks forward to spending time with Spencer Reid. His love for you is unconditional.

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You Already Said Yes by @/dr-spencer-reids-queen

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Spencer comes home to find your wedding ring on his office desk, and his thoughts run wild.

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You Think I'm Delicious? by @/eideticallys

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words “i don’t like your new perfume.”

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4+1 cuddling by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The four times they cuddled before becoming a couple and the one time they cuddled afterward.

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✧ A-Z by @spencereidluver

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: moments of your life with Spencer

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more this way ---> spencer reid . ii

#♡ — fics #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader

[maniculum]

Had a baffling interaction a couple hours ago, and I think Tumblr is probably the best place to find an explanation.

I’ve mentioned on here that I have a side job at a bookstore. Today, I heard a customer make the assertion to her companion that the novel Frankenstein is “basically fanfiction”. (I don’t think this was meant as negative, but couldn’t say for sure.)

I asked her about it when she came to check out, because I had to know what that was about, right? She recounted the origin of the book — the Shelleys, Byron, & Polidori challenging each other to write horror stories, etc. I assured her I was familiar with the history, but just wanted to know why that made it fanfiction.

She said, “well, it came from a horror writing competition.”

At this point, I felt I had pushed about as much as I could in this scenario — as anyone who’s worked a customer-service job knows, when customers say nonsense at you, responding in a way that doesn’t upset them is difficult, and you kind of have to be ready to just nod and smile. So I said something along the lines of, “I don’t understand the connection, but as long as it makes sense to you.”

She chose not to elaborate further and left with her purchases.

So now I’m asking Tumblr because I figure this is the best place to find people who are familiar with unorthodox understandings of fanfiction.

Is it because it came from a competition? (This is the most sensible explanation I can think of, but that’s not saying much, because I see no link between these two concepts.)

Is it because it’s horror? (I know people get weird about genre fiction sometimes — last year someone told me they thought “Fantasy / Science Fiction” and “Young Adult” were different terms for the same genre.)

Is it because it was written for fun? (I know that the vast majority of fiction is — to a greater or lesser degree — written because the author enjoys writing, but maybe the customer doesn’t know that?)

Is it because it was written, for lack of a better word, socially? (By which I mean, is the story of its writing significant in that the initial intention was for Shelley to show it to her friends? But of course this is a group of published authors, and authors hang out to talk about & show each other their work all the time… maybe the customer wasn’t aware of that?)

These are the only options I can think of, and none of them have any link to what makes something “fanfiction” in my understanding. I’m just extrapolating from the fact that apparently the relevant distinction has something to do with it being a horror writing competition. Am I missing something? Tumblr, please, help me with this.

[myfictionaldreams]

Pretty Eyes // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie was your best friend but you were undoubtedly in love with him. During one of Steve's house parties, you find yourself in bed with him which wasn't unusual, you were only hugging after all... until your lips are brushing against his.

A/N: I will be getting to the other requests that I have I promise, I’m just abosolutely in love with Eddie and needed to write for him again!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, tooth rotting fluff, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, drunken kissing, flirting, sexual tension, sharing a bed, first kiss, fingering, rough sex, mark (back scratching), praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, Eddie is a massive SIMP!

Words: 7.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

Steve was hosting another house party as his parents were out and it was safe to say… you were thoroughly enjoying the free alcohol. In fact, you had enjoyed so much of the liquors that you collapsed onto the sofa face first, half hanging off so that your knuckles grazed the floor and dozed in and out of sleep.

This was where Eddie found you, a toothy grin gracing his face as he took in your position, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he stepped around a partier to get to you, dropping down and sitting on the floor next to you.

There was a bottle of beer in your hand that was dangerously close to tipping over and spilling over the Harrington’s expensive cream carpet so he quickly eased it out of your grasp and onto the small table beside him. This caused you to jolt awake, eyelids were heavy as you opened them to look around, seeing Eddie sitting with his knees drawn up, the ripped holes of his jeans stretching to reveal his kneecaps.

You gave him a beaming smile, hand lifting to reach for him, settling on his shoulder as you exclaimed with a slur to your words, “I’ve been looking for you!” Eddie laughed, dimples deepening in his cheeks that had your body waking further, positioning yourself off of the sofa to be closer to him. Your best friend also moved forward so that he was now leaning his arm across the couch where you promptly lay your head, using it as a pillow whilst his other hand rested on your back, subconsciously stroking circles across the material of your dress.

From anyone else in the room, the view would be assumed that you were both in a very happy relationship if the casual touches and gleaming twinkle in each other's eyes, only looking at each other and no one else. Sadly, this was the wrong assumption, you were both ‘just friends’.

It may not be the same level of friendship as say you had with Steve or Robin, but you were both adamant about just being friends. Even if said friendship was everything that a relationship was, spending all of your spare time together, you would go to his shows and sit on the front row cheering him on, he would drive you to and from school, hugs that lasted too long and on the few occasions you fell asleep at his and waking in each other's arms, neither moving because it just felt so good. It was something you both cherished and therefore this made it hard to give up and develop into anything more, even though it was painfully clear to anyone watching that you both were desperate for something more, alas, this was not the case.

As you settled into the embrace, you looked into Eddie’s expressive brown, puppy dog eyes, continuing with your explanation as to how you’d ended up on the furniture. “You were there one minute and poof! You disappeared! I was looking for you everywhere and then Robin said you might be in here and…and I think I tripped or something and here I am, and look … I found you! Robin was right!”

“Good job sweetheart! Now if I do remember, I told you I was going for a piss and asked you to stay next to the fridge and what happened… you wondered off, I’ve been looking for you for half an hour”, he playfully flicked the tip of your nose as the distant memory of him telling you to stay put came into your thoughts. “Are you having a good time?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss your cheek casually, except a kiss on the cheek was never casual for him, his lips touching leaving a warm tingle against your cheek as he hovered there for a second too long for just a friend.

“I’m having the best time! Everything is so loud and the rooms spinning around you so the party must be getting crazy and now I’ve found you again, everything is even better!” With your enthusiasm and excitement, you shifted on the couch, causing your knee-length dress to ride up higher up your thighs, to a point of near exposure.

Eddie noticed, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, something you watched with fascination but then was distracted as the warmth of his hand on your back disappeared but that was only so he could pull your dress back down over your thighs, protecting your modesty. “My knight in shining armour”, you teased him, fingers playing with the ends of his wavy hair that settled on his shoulders.

“Yes, and this is why you’re wearing my shorts under your dress”, he chastised, returning his fingers to your upper back, in big circles that lulled you into a peaceful state. For a moment you closed your eyes, tilting your head to nuzzle into his arm further. Eddie moved closer to he was only a couple of inches away from your face, “Hey, you aren’t going to sleep on me, are you? Maybe it’s time we go”.

Your features shifted into a frown, displeased with his statement as you began to whine, “No, I don’t want to go, I wanna stay here with you”.

Eddie’s ringed fingers stroked over your cheek, trying to rouse you more from falling asleep fully, “Angel, your eyes aren’t even open”. To try and prove your point, you forced your eyes open, wide and stared at him until he laughed but then he looked around, noticing that there were fewer people than before, “I think the party’s starting to come to an end anyway so think’s its time we get going”.

Your eyebrows furrowed, being more whinier than usual in your drunken state, “I can’t be bothered to go, I live on the other side of town and it’s just too far away Eddie, I don’t want to leave!”

Once again, Eddie is laughing, the noise momentarily distracting you from his quest to leave but as he begins to shift onto his knees, you were once again frowning until he explained, “Sweetheart, we’re staying here, remember? Steve’s got a spare room for us upstairs.”

“He does!?”, you say with excitement, finally finding the energy and motivation to actually look awake now.

“Yeah! So get your butt up!”

This was easier said than done as your head spun making you feel a little nauseous, eyes rolling as you sat up with Eddie’s help and luckily he was slow to move, making sure you got your bearings before standing.

“Are you guys going already?! But who am I supposed to watch the sunrise with?”, Robin suddenly was in your line of vision, looking sadly between you and Eddie who had his arm supporting your weight as you held onto his neck. In the back of your mind, you vaguely remembered agreeing whilst sober that you’d join your friends in watching the sunrise but that definitely wasn’t happening anymore.

“Sorry, this one needs to go to bed”, Eddie explained, continuing to move past her and a few other remaining partiers as he half-carried you up the stairs to the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. You were aware that you were leaning into his touch more than you actually needed to but he just smelled so good, cigarettes, beer and the aftershave you’d bought him for his birthday.

However, as soon as you saw the bed, you’re stumbling out of his arms and collapsing face first into the soft sheets, bouncing a few times from the mattress before settling. Eddie smiled, shrugging off his denim jacket and placing it onto the bags you’d both bought with the attention to stay.

“Sweetheart?” he asked, checking to see if you were awake or not as he switched on the lamp next to the bed. When you didn’t respond he moved to sit at your feet, taking off your shoes and socks one at a time, making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep.

You were still awake but were still trying to adjust and wait for the world to stop spinning before turning onto your back to look at Eddie as he chucked your shoes to join the rest of your stuff. From the twist of positions, your bra began to dig into your ribs, rubbing uncomfortably against your skin and instead of asking for a change of clothes, you tiredly announced, “My bra’s uncomfortable”.

In the low light, you could see Eddie’s cheeks blush pink before he tried to hide it by going over to both of your bags. He routed through your clothes and couldn’t figure out what was pyjamas and what was your outfit for the morning so he gave up and pulled out a spare shirt of his, walking over and dropping it into your lap, “it’ll be more comfortable than your dress”.

“Thank you”, you say sweetly, sitting up again with a groan and without thinking, reaching behind your head to try and undo the zipper of your dress. Eddie’s eyes widened and he quickly turned on the spot to face the wall, giving you some privacy but then you let out a frustrated grunt and then he felt a small tap on the centre of his back. Turning back to face you, he found that you’d stood from the bed and were looking up at him with an annoyed expression. “I can’t undo the zipper, can you help me pretty please?”

You turned on the spot, showing him your back with the offensive zip. Eddie didn’t answer, swallowing harshly as he began to lift his fingers, easily dragging the zip all the way down to your lower back. It wasn’t the first time seeing this much of your skin, having changed in the same room before but it felt oddly intimate to be the one doing it. He even contemplated undoing the clasp of your bra as he knew you wanted it off but he clenched his fist and turned back around.

Over his shoulder, he could hear you muttering your thanks and then your dress fell to the floor, followed by a relieved gasp as he assumed you’d removed your bra. “That's so much better, you can turn around by the way”, you say as you sit down. Eddie does just that and is blessed with the sight of you sitting in his old Iron Maiden shirt and shorts that you’d been wearing underneath the dress.

You were unaware of the effect you were having on him as you swayed drunkenly on the spot, wiping your tired eyes and smudging your makeup. “You want me to get your make-up remover for you?”, he asks and you nod with a thankful smile.

Eddie watched painfully at your attempt to remove your make-up, and eventually succumbed, “Let me, Angel”, he took the wipe from your hand and knelt down, placing one hand under your chin to keep you in place as he carefully began to remove your make-up.

You loved this side of Eddie, outside of the metal music, the hyperactive DnD player, was the soft, kind-hearted best friend that had captured your heart from the moment you both met. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was something else that compelled you to whisper, “Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

Eddie’s wiping hand paused, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip again as his brown eyes danced between looking at both of yours and then he chuckled, knocking your cin up slightly as he stood, ignoring your compliment, “All done, still as beautiful as ever, move up the bed, I’m going to get you a glass of water”.

You did as instructed, sitting up against the headboard as you watched him leave. Looking down at your shirt, you lifted the material at the neck and took a deep breath, smelling his natural scent that made your heart flutter. Eddie returned a few minutes later with two glasses of water, handing you one and even though you didn’t want to drink it, feeling too tired, Eddie made sure that you did, hoping it would help your inevitable hangover in the morning.

As you drank, he started to arrange his makeshift bed on the floor as Steve had given him a couple of extra pillows and blankets to get comfy next to you. Next, he removed his jeans, leaving him in his shirt and boxers, a sight you’d seen many times before but it didn’t stop you from warming throughout your body, feeling like you shouldn’t be staring at his spare legs, seeing the occasional tattoo’s that no one knew about on his calf.

“What are you doing down over there? The bed’s big enough for the two of us”, you tapped on the space next to you before reaching to clumsily place your empty glass onto the bedside table, smiling proudly when it didn’t fall off and smash.

“Fine, but if you throw up on me, I’m not going to be happy”, Eddie joked, stumbling over to the bed and jumping onto the mattress face first with enough force that you jumped up and down.

You laugh as you shuffle to a lying position, facing towards him, watching as he got comfortable with his arms pushing beneath his pillow as he looked towards you with his hair completely covering his face. Your fingers seemed to be working of their own accord as they drifted towards his wavy hair, brushing it back so that you could see his resting face, eyes closed, he looked peaceful.

“Why are you so far away?”, you asked with a hint of humour, biting your lip as he opened one eye to look at you, waiting an anxious second before quickly hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Better?” he asked, his voice now husky with exhaustion.

“Much better, thank you”, you say, shuffling into a comfortable position as the two of you seemed to naturally shape together.

You and Eddie were now facing each other, one of your legs was placed between his, the warm naked skin of each other's calves rubbing together, and one of his arms were locked around your waist, holding you tight to his chest where your hands were resting.

“Goodnight”, the two of you spoke at the same time, eyes closing.

You weren’t sure how much time passed but sleep didn’t seem to come as easily as you thought and it felt like there was an invisible cord in your gut that was pulling you closer to Eddie, so you listened to the instincts and opened your eyes to look at him. Except, it seemed you weren’t the only one to feel this way as you found Eddie’s wonderful brown eyes already open and looking at you.

The two of you shyly smiled having caught each other looking.

“Go to sleep Sweetheart”, Eddie encouraged, dipping his head and kissing your cheek, almost near the corner of your mouth. You moved closer on instinct until you could feel his breath fanning across your face and didn’t stop until your lips rested against his chin, finding the touch comforting.

Neither of you knew who it was who shifted, maybe you were naturally drawn higher or Eddie lower but then your lips were on the corner of his mouth. You could feel the crease of the corner of his lips against yours that began to pout with a delicate little kiss.

Then your head tilted and you kissed again, your mouth covering half of his now as you both didn’t seem to be breathing or thinking, every muscle throughout your body feeling like there were no bones supporting your structures, like you were melting into the bed.

The next kiss, the two of you turned in unison, mouth meeting mouth directly, pushing delicately together still both unsure of each other's actions.

Eddie was the first to press firmer into the kiss, his ringed fingers clenching his shirt that you wore as he released the breath he was holding, the air fanning across your cheek. It was your turn to reciprocate the kiss, one after another you gave him close-mouthed issues, your fingers lifting to feel the soft skin of his cheek, leg that was slotted between his also shifting higher.

This seemed to shake Eddie out of what was happening as he pulled back an inch, opening his eyes to see your lips still pursed from the kisses he’d been desperately enjoying. But you’d both been drinking and even though this was something he wanted more than anything, he wouldn’t forgive himself if this continued any further.

Giving one last kiss to your temple, Eddie’s husky voice whispered, “Go to sleep, Sweetheart”.

Maybe it was the fear of the reality of looking at Eddie after kissing him or potentially the alcohol but you didn’t open your eyes again and before long your breaths had evened out and your hands fell from his face and onto the space of bed between your bodies as sleep consumed you.

In the morning, Steve barged into the room with a plate full of slices of toast, having stayed up for the sunrise, he was offering food to all the guests before finally going to bed. You and Eddie jolted, sleepily accepting the food and munching in natural silence.

“How are you feeling?” the metal head asked, his stomach feeling heavy with nerves waiting for your response.

Shrugging your shoulders, you swallowed your mouthful of food, “ok, I have a little bit of a headache but I’m sure that’ll go in a bit. Why? Was I really drunk last night? I don’t really remember anything after beer pong” you admitted, hoping that you hadn’t done anything embarrassing. Eddie’s face almost flinched at your revelation and it had you putting down your food, “what… did I do something bad?” you asked worriedly.

Eddie shook his head causing his curls to bounce, “No you didn’t do anything embarrassing, you were absolutely fine, didn’t make the sun rise though”, he tried to smile through the realisation that you didn’t remember anything, more specifically the kiss. He tried to brush off his disappointment, but couldn’t deny how much he wished that everything was different.

Eddie dropped you off at home an hour later, and both of you decided to use today to recover from the heavy drinking and then meet up again tomorrow to do whatever came to mind.

As soon as you saw your best, you dropped onto it and fell asleep for a couple more hours, waking in the early afternoon and feeling a lot more refreshed. The hours ticked and you spent your time showering and generally cleaning up, before Robin called you on the house phone, wanting to discuss last night and she was saddened to hear that you didn’t remember a lot of it.

“Really? I was hoping you would have some gossip to tell your best buddy”, she sighed dramatically on the other end of the phone.

You frowned, twirling the phone lead in your fingers as you asked, “What do you mean gossip? Eddie said I didn’t do anyone embarrassing”. Your friend seemed to go quiet which was very unlike her and you knew something was wrong, “Robin please tell me what I’ve done”.

“It’s not that you did anything embarrassing, it’s just that um… Well… Steve said that when he walked in on you two this morning, you both looked pretty cosy. You were in his clothes, his arms were around you… Steve was hoping there was something to read between the lines”.

You let out a relieved sigh, drunk you hadn’t accidentally done something, it was just the usual gossip that seemed to be discussed every time anyone saw you and Eddie together. “Oh, that! That was nothing, just two friends sharing a bed and being com…fortable…”, your words fizzled out as something seemed to come back to you.

Now that you were actually having to think about specifics, little flashes of the night came back to you. Eddie making you laugh as he found you on the sofa, then nothing, and then you remembered drinking a glass of water and being proud that the glass didn’t fall onto the floor, and then nothing… but then… your lips… you’d definitely kissed someone last night… in the bed that you woke up in with Eddie.

Eddie… You’d kissed Eddie last night, on the mouth…with your mouth… in a more than friendly way.

“Hey? Are you there?”, Robin asked as you stood in silence, staring at a crack in the wallpaper on the wall.

“Sorry, can I call you back?”, you didn’t give her time to answer as you placed the phone back on the receiver.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, finding it even difficult to swallow but you weren’t sure if it was due to anxiety or excitement. But then, why didn’t Eddie say anything this morning? It was clear that he hadn’t been as drunk as you and remembered everything from the night before so why wouldn’t he say anything?

Before you overthink it, you were pulling on your sneakers and were out of the door, walking with a purpose, the only thing you were sure of was that you needed to get to Eddies and talk to him, even though he lived a 20-minute walk away which involved going through the scary area of the woods, you didn’t care for once.

The length of the trek gave you a little bit of time to really digest what had happened. Of course, you’d wanted something to blossom between you and Eddie for as long as you could remember but always coward out of it at the last second. But now, there was no way you were letting this go, you weren’t even sure what to say to him, the adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was deciding what to do as you continued on, the sun beginning to set through the treeline as the evening hours of the day passed.

Finally, you arrived at the trailer park, with sweat glistening over your face with the speed that you had walked but your arms and legs were chilled due to the cooler evenings due to the time of year, regretting not putting on a jacket before leaving but it was way too late for that as Eddie’s trailer was in your eyeline.

His Uncles truck wasn’t outside so you were thankful for him potentially being at work so he didn’t have to witness this conversation.

Stepping up to the porch door which was closest to Eddie's bedroom, out of breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead, you banged on the door hard as you could hear Eddie listening to his music loudly. What were you even going to say? SHIT, you thought, SHIT SHIT SHIT, maybe you shouldn’t have come over, maybe there was still time to turn back and run away.

But this was not the case as the door handle turned and Eddie opened the front door, his hair in a low ponytail, wearing a Judas Priest t-shirt and his usual ripped black jeans, his face immediately turning into a frown with worry as he saw you at his doorstep. “Sweetheart? What are you doing here? Are you ok? Did you… did you walk here?! Through the woods? You should have called me I would have picked you up, what’s wrong- has something happened?”

Eddie was evidently panicking, you never just turned up on his doorstep, if you wanted to see him, you’d usually call so he could drive and pick you up so a million possibilities were currently going through his head. He stepped out onto the porch, his hands lifting to your shoulders, eyes searching your face and then your arms and legs for any signs of injuries.

Your mouth opened and closed with no idea as to what to say, you could say you were ok and wanted to talk, or maybe bottle it completely and say you wanted to see him. However, neither of these options was what you decided on in the end as you suddenly blurted out, “We kissed!” Eddie’s entire body seemed to freeze, his eyes wide with uncertainty so you continued to babble, “I kissed you on the mouth, with my mouth, we kissed each other, Eddie”.

Finally, he spoke as he said in a low voice, “Yeah, we did”. He let go of your shoulders and you watched him seem to contemplate something for a minute as he wiped a stressed hand over his face before looking at you with a bit more confidence, “Would you like a beer?”

“Uh…no thanks”.

“Ok, well I do so please come in and make yourself at home”, he held the door open for you before shutting it gently and walking through the kitchen/living room area to the fridge, pulling out a beer and drinking half of it before placing it on to countertop, turning to look at you, leaning against the side as he didn’t know what to say.

You stood steps away, suddenly feeling light like a deer in headlights, fingers nervously twisting together due to habit and realising that you were doing it, you shook them. Eddie also noticed, he always noticed everything about you and hated that you were nervous about this sort of conversation, it was one of the reasons he hadn’t told you.

Holding out his hand, he softly said, “Come here, Sweetheart”.

You were thankful for this, closing the gap between the two of you instantly and grasping his hand, feeling him squeeze it and pull you close so that you now stood between his legs and you instantly felt at ease, his touch always seemed to do that. “I don’t really know what to say now I’m here, I remembered what happened and came straight here in a panic, maybe you regretted it or-”

“I’d never regret kissing you”, he responded honestly. Your eyes looked up into his, seeing the sincerity there as his thumb brushed against the back of the hand that he held. The way he was looking at you, like he always did, with the look he only saved for you that made you feel warm and safe and happy.

“I want to do it again”, you admitted under your breath, feeling like there was nothing in the world that mattered more than this conversation, that crossing between friends and more.

Eddie doesn’t say anything in response, he just simply lifts up the hand that was at his side and with his knuckles, he grazed down your cheek with a familiar but intimate touch and as he began leaning forward, you knew his answer.

And yet, when his breath was graced over your lips, you couldn’t help but say, “Eddie, you’re my best friend”.

He paused, a hairbreadth away from your face, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours as he whispered, “You’re my best friend too”.

“I… I don’t think I want to just be your best friend anymore”.

This was all the confirmation that Eddie needed to press his lips and body against yours, standing away from the countertop, both hands cupping your cheeks so that you could feel the coolness of his rings. Your hands had settled on his chest, gripping his shirt for dear life, scared that if you let go, he might disappear.

The kiss deepened almost immediately, both of you leaning into each other as closely as you could, heads tilting and mouths opening further. You moaned as Eddie’s tongue brushed against your upper lip and you willingly reciprocated the touch, his taste bursting over your tongue, most of the beer he’d just drank but something else that was unique to him and you absolutely craved more.

Eddie was feeling just as overwhelmed and yet, thoroughly relieved that this was happening. He had been kicking himself all day having not spoken to you about it before dropping you home and had been back and forth to the phone, dialling your home phone before stopping at the last digit as he lost his confidence. So to see you standing at his door, apart from the initial panic, there was only relief that remained, already deciding that if you weren’t going to mention it, he would reveal what had happened.

But now, here you both were two best friends, finally being able to touch each other the way you’d both been so desperate to do.

Finally decided that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere, your grasp on his shirt loosened so that you could stroke down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt, unsure whether you should dip beneath to feel him further.

It seemed like Eddie was in the same situation as one of his hands was now holding your hip, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your t-shirt. Pulling away from the kiss, Eddie leaned his forehead against yours, giving you both a moment to catch your breaths.

This was where you made the brave decision to take matters into your own hands by taking a step back. Eddie frowned slightly but then you took his hand in yours and began pulling him towards his bedroom and his face immediately brightened, biting his lip as he followed after you.

Through all the times of imagining this exact situation, you’d thought maybe you would be nervous but all that you felt was excitement and anticipation which only fueled your confidence as you pushed Eddie onto his bed and then straddled his lap. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you close as you both began kissing again. Your fingers cupped his jaw, feeling the little prickles of his stubble starting to grow from now shaving today, and then you moved further around his neck to his hair, pulling out the elastic band so you could run your fingers through it.

He groaned at the touch, his skilful fingers now moving beneath your t-shirt, stroking the soft skin of your hips and back, whilst also pulling your hips down so that you could feel the evidence of his arousal. You gasped into his mouth at feeling how hard he was and your veins seemed to hum knowing that it was you who had caused this. Your panties were just as wet as you ground your hips now, rolling them against his to stimulate the two of you.

Dropping your hands to reach over his shoulders, you began to pull on his shirt, needing the material off of his body and thankfully, he soon understood your request and pulled it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor. Before kissing him again, you looked down at his chest, something you had seen countless times but now you could actually run your fingers down it, nails scratching lightly over the sprinkling of dark hair in the centre that trailed all the way down to a thin strip that disappeared below his belt.

Your mouth watered at the sight but then his mouth was back on yours, hungrily moving, tongues dancing together, teeth scraping against lips, he was insatiable. You wanted more of him, you wanted everything he had to offer, and you needed to make him feel good, there were so many options but with your arousal and desperation, you just knew you wanted him now.

Pulling back from the kiss once more, Eddie began to taste the skin across your neck, open-mouth kisses along the sensitive areas, nipping on certain parts where you moaned louder. “Eddie that feels so good”.

Eddie hummed at your desperate little whines, needing to hear more of them so without giving you any warning, he placed an arm around your waist and turned the two of you so that you now lay across his bed and he hovered above you. Looking up with wide eyes,  Eddie dipped his head to kiss you once, twice and then his fingers hovered over your short buttons, undoing them with ease. You helped him to pull them down with your underwear, Eddie making quick work to pull your shoes off, and then reached for the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head and onto the growing pile of clothes.

Lying back onto his bed, you now realised just how exposed you were, having gone without a bra today because you had intended on lounging around the house so you were completely nude, save for your white trainer socks. Eddie’s eyes were wide as he looked over your body, to the areas he hadn’t seen before and he almost came right then and there as he groaned, “You’re so fucking beautiful Angel”.

He crawled over your body to peck your lips, then trailed lower, leaving sweet kisses on his journey, over your collarbones, nipping with his teeth to tease and then stopped at your sternum, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes, his hair shadowing his face. With his hand, he cupped one of your breasts, squeezing the tissue and holding it in place for this tongue to stroke across your perked nipple, the sensation of warmth blooming instantly in your abdomen.

“Ed-Eddie”, your fingers delved into his thick longs, holding him in place as he moved from one breast to the other, doing something he had been desperate to do for so long.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Sweetheart”, as he finished speaking, he sucked your right nipple into his mouth and then flattened his tongue against the skin. Your back arched into the touch, completely melting into him and his distracting mouth, only then realising that one of his hands was moving lower, grazing over your navel, your bikini line and over your mound, stopping just before moving any further.

“Please Eddie, don’t stop, I want you to touch me”, you sounded desperate but you didn’t care, feeling elated with need.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart”, he reassured, moving back to hover over your face, making sure he could see your face as he finally stroked his rough fingertip against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet, is that just for me?”, he asked with an air of arrogance as of course, he knew this was just for him. You couldn’t form the words as all you could think about were his skilful fingers so you frantically nodded your head, your hands still in his hair, squeezing tighter onto the strands as he idly explored between your legs.

Eddie rested his other arm next to your face, leaning his weight onto it as he continued to stare down at you, watching every gasp and show of pleasure as he circled your bundle of nerves, feeling your hips rotating with his moves, it was a sight he wanted to remember for the rest of his life.

As he applied a little bit more pressure, you arched your back in euphoria, your neck now more exposed and Eddie couldn’t help himself and began to leave open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, tasting your skin.

Your fingers relented on their grip on his hair, wishing to instead feel any part of his body, so you reached over his shoulders, grabbing the top of his back, your nails scratching against the skin to hold him there. Eddie groaned deeply in his chest at feeling you mark his body, enjoying the slight sting of pain that came from your scratches.

“Eddie! I want you”, you whined as he continued to tease your entrance, not pushing in just yet but just feeling every part of your cunt.

He once again is hovering over your mouth, “Yeah?” he smirked, his eyes impossibly dark with how wide his pupils were, “I want you too”, he admits, “but I wanna hear your pretty moans first”. Finally, he slipped his middle finger into your soaking hole and your eyes rolled back at getting to feel more of him, chest bumping up into his.

Eddie is completely crowding you into the bed, every part of your body seemed to be touching his as he knelt over you, his finger moving in and out of you, coated in your juices before adding a second finger, his thumb brushing back and forth over your throbbing clit. Clearly, his guitar playing had really given him more skills in other departments because the way he was coaxing you closer to your orgasm at record speed was mind-blowing, you couldn’t even think of words to praise and beg him, just simply held onto him, accepted his kisses and let the pleasure pulse through your body.

“That’s it, Angel, you’re doing so good for me”, he whispered against your cheek as you came, juices soaking his fingers as he stroked against your g-spot until your walls stopped fluttering and gently eased them out. You watched with a blissed expression as he lifted them to his mouth, sucking his fingers and moaning, “You taste so fucking good, and you’re just so pretty when you cum”, his praises made you mewl and pussy clench.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him down for another kiss, planning on distracting him as your hands explored his chest again, moving lower until you could feel his belt, fumbling to undo it with unsteady fingers. Then you were pushing the material over his hips and thankfully he pushed them lower with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles until he was also completely nude.

This gave you the perfect path to wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it a few times and you were presented with the perfect gift of hearing his moaning. He was bigger than you thought, surprised that he hadn’t boasted about his size before to boost his ego. The skin was soft and warm but his shaft was hard and throbbing, veins bulging along the length as your fingers squeezed as you moved up and down.

“I’ve always wanted to do this too”, you admitted as he closed his eyes, savouring your touch. “Making you moan and throb in my hand”, this made his groan even louder as your unfiltered statement.

You could feel a bead of precum dripping from the tip and before you could spread it around with your thumb, Eddie was easing your hand away from his cock and up to rest above your head, his body beginning to position between yours as lust and excitement hummed in both of your veins.

“Wait Eddie - do you have any condoms? I’m not on any birth control”, you thankfully remembered, sitting up slightly and watching Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, yeah hang on, I’ve got one for emergency”, he clumsily lay across your body to reach into his bedside drawer, fumbling through numerous objects before holding up a condom wrapper like it was his pride and joy. “Ah ha! Knew there was one somewhere”, he muttered to himself as he sat back on his heels, tearing the wrapper with his teeth, discarding the foil and then holding the tip of the condom and rolling it down his shaft. Even though it was a normal thing to do, you couldn’t deny, seeing Eddie touching himself whilst rolling in the condom had your pussy clenching and knowing that he was putting it on just to fuck you.

“Come here, big boy”, you say with a grin, holding out your arms for him to crawl back into which he did eagerly but this time he held both of your wrists in one of his hands, above your head, whilst the other helped to position his tip at your hole.

Now there were a little bit of nerves bubbling in your stomach as you looked up at Eddie, who you had lusted over for so long, actually about to fuck you. It seemed he had similar thoughts as he gave you a small smile before leaning down and capturing your lips with his, distracting you from the feelings and replacing them with overwhelming need instead.

Your hips moved closer to his as he finally began to push in, you both gasp, breaking the kiss, foreheads resting against each other, both enjoying the moment but he also made sure to check that you weren’t in any pain as inch after inch slipped into your cunt.

You felt so discomfort though, your overwhelming arousal helping to make it even more enjoyable as you praised, “Feels so fucking good Eddie”.

“Shit!” he grunted as he was fully inside of you now, “you’re going to make me addicted to feeling this and hearing those perfect moans”. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and then began to do shallow thrusts, building in momentum and depth until you were rolling your hips to try and meet his thrusts did he not hold back.

Eddie fucked you with deep, fast thrusts that had you clawing onto his chest and back for something to hold onto as his face nuzzled into your neck to suck and kiss the sensitive skin. Neither of you said anything other than each other's names, didn’t need to as you both held onto each other, regretting all of the time you’d wasted.

As the tightening in your core intensified you really tried to take in every single detail. The feeling of his thick, cool, metal rings on his fingers that were linked through yours, his freshly-washed, sandalwood hair wash that wafted into your nose where his hair brushed against your cheek, his puffy full lips against your jaw, his chain necklace brushing against your collar bines your nipples brushing against his chest. Then there was below the waist, your thighs being held up by his hairy ones and his cock that was fucking into you causing never-ending pleasure.

It was all you’d ever hoped for as you quickly had time to gasp, “Eddie, your gonna make me cum, I’m so close”.

The bed squeaked with the momentum of his fucking as he increased his speed and Eddie let go of your hands but only so he could hold onto one of your thighs, pushing it further against your chest. His other hand moved to your jaw, holding your head in place as he once again kissed you sloppily, tongues twisting together as he groaned in the back of his throat.

You cried out Eddie’s name against his lips as you came, pussy walls contracting in flutters around his cock and the sensation was too much for him to cope with as he snapped his hips a few times, shouting, “Shit- Sweetheart, yes!” as he too came, his seed filling the condom as he rocked into you both until both orgasms had subsided.

You both stayed like that for a couple of minutes as he lazily kissed along your shoulder before you tilted your head to capture his mouth a few times and then pulled away so he could get up and dispose of his condom. Watching him with an elated grin, your eyes travelled the length of his body as he stood and walked out to the bathroom but you were more concentrating on his back that was covered in your scratches.

Biting your lip to hide the grin, you couldn’t believe that it was actually you leaving those marks on his body, feeling so giddy you could scream but instead, you took a deep breath and decided to sit up yourself, reaching for the closest articles of clothing which just so happen to be Eddie’s shirt and boxers.

Eddie returned a couple of minutes later, completely nude and looking thoroughly prideful as he stopped in the doorway, checking you out just as much as you’d done to him.

“What?” you asked with a shy smile, you were covered now so you weren’t entirely sure what he was staring at.

“You look well and truly fucked, Sweetheart”, he commented, moving over to his drawers to find some new clothes to wear which were just another plain t-shirt and fresh boxers.

“You’re one to talk, have you seen your back?” you teased, watching as he looked into the mirror behind his treasured guitar, turning so he could look over his shoulder and at the marks you’d left on his back. His grin spread cheekily across his face, his dimples appearing as he looked back at you.

“I think I could get used to seeing this”, he admitted with an affectionate tone.

As Eddie got changed into his new clothes, you moved to use the bathroom and then joined him in the living room where he was sat on the couch with the TV on in the background with his opened beer and a fresh one for you. You thanked him as you sat, naturally both reaching for each other as you lift your legs over his lap, his hands massaging your thighs as you both talked more than watch what was on the screen.

Eddie finished the last of his beer and you watched with fascination, your arm over his shoulder, stroking the hair that rested there as you wondered out loud, “Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

He laughs, placing the empty glass onto the table in front of you both before leaning back and looking at you, “You have actually, you told me last night but I thought it was just a drunken comment”.

“No, it definitely isn’t a drunken thing, it’s an always thing, you’re quite the pretty boy Munson”.

“Hmm, your flattery is getting your everywhere with me, Sweetheart”, he leaned in to start kissing you again, distracting the both of you from the noise of the truck pulling up outside.

You weren’t aware Eddie’s Uncle had returned until he was walking through the door and you both rushed to your feet, with a gap between you and beer bottles hiding behind your back but, that was the least of your worries.

“Hi Mr Munson”, you say in a cheerful tone like you always did. Wayne always loved having you around as he often remarked that you ‘Kept Eddie out of trouble’.

Wayne waved tiredly at the two of you having returned home from work, “Hey kids uh-”. He seemed to stop, actually taking you both in, other than the fact he knew there were beers behind your backs that he knew you both stole and drank but, it was more the dishevelled looks, twinkling eyes and swollen mouths, as well as your obvious choice of clothing… none of which were yours.

“Finally…”, he grunted at the realisation you both had seemed to move on from just being friends. Your face warmed as Eddie rubbed the back of his neck as Wayne kicked the door closed and shrugged his jacket off.

“Uh yeah, I feel like we have some explaining to do”, Eddie awkwardly said and you just wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Thankfully Wayne held up his hands, “Don’t wanna know kid, just want you both to be happy and uh… please use protection,  I don’t need any baby Munson’s running around here”.

“Oh my god”, Eddie’s cheeks were bright red as he looked anywhere that wasn’t his Uncle who muttered about having a shower, leaving you and Eddie to laugh and fall back onto the couch into the same position as before, not needing to hide anything now.

“If you think his reaction was embarrassing, could you imagine what all of our friends’ are going to be like?” you say with a shiver.

Eddie audibly groaned, dropping his head back whilst looking at you from the corner of his eyes, “Oh, this is just going to be a whole lot of fun and games, Sweetheart”.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things smut #joseph quinn #mine*

[woso-dreamzzz]

End of the World II

Katie McCabe x Child!Reader

Summary: The World Cup tension

The next time you see Ma and Mammy in a room at the same time is at Ireland Camp.

You arrive with Ma, happy and smiling in your own shamrock green Ireland jersey and wave at the social media person who's recording everyone's arrival.

You're the littlest team member and Ma makes sure that you don't run ahead enough that she can't see you anymore. Ever since that day that you cried and got to go to Ma's early, you've been staying with her.

You still don't know what happened between her Mammy but you remember that night the tension between Ma and Caitlin so you suppose it must have to do with that.

It's fun being with Ma and you've really been missing her but you've also be missing Mammy too. It's an odd feeling because you know that if Ma sent you back to Mammy then you would start missing Ma more than Mammy and you're scared that you're always going to be wanting the one that you don't currently have.

But Ireland Camp is different.

It's better.

Now that Ma and Mammy have to be together all the time, maybe they'll remember how much they love each other and then Ma will move back in and you'll no longer have the weird icky feelings in your chest that you can't explain.

Mammy's already there and you pull away from Ma to crash into her. She looks shocked to see you smiling up at her but she squeezes you with just the right amount of pressure that you happily go boneless and let her pick you up.

"Hey, kiddo," She says, raining kisses onto your head to make you laugh.

"Missed you, Mammy!" You tell her, resting your head against her collarbone.

"I missed you too." She holds you for a few moments, just soaking in the weight of you in her arms. "Who are you rooming with this camp, kiddo? Me or Ma?"

The questions makes you frown and you pull away. Ma is standing a long way away from you both, not looking at Mammy at all.

"But...But...Sleep in the same room as Ma and Mammy."

They both wince and Ma says," Not this camp."

"No!" You say," Every camp!"

"Not this camp," Ma says again," Who do you want to room with?"

You don't answer. You don't do much actually. You just kind of go limp in Mammy's arms and hide your head in her neck.

Mammy sighs. "I'll take her, Ruesha. I haven't seen her in person for a little while. I'll look after her."

Ma and Mammy don't talk at all during Ireland camp unless it's about you. They don't even look like they want to be in the dining hall at the same time and you don't understand what's going on.

Ireland camp wasn't meant to be like this. Ma and Mammy were meant to be in the same room all the time and give each other kisses because they're in love and that's the whole reason they had you.

They're in love enough to want a baby together and that baby was you.

You don't know what's meant to happen to you if Ma and Mammy don't love each other anymore.

You try your absolute hardest to get them to hang out but the most they come to interacting outside of training is to hand you off to the other. No words are exchanged other than a polite nod or an explanation on what you've already had to eat.

They stay on completely opposite ends of the plane when you take the flight to Australia and you start crying when Ma glares at Mammy and then you cry even harder when Mammy sneers at Ma (though they both put it down to you being completely exhausted by the late night).

Ireland being at the World Cup is meant to make you feel all bouncy and happy but it's just the most horrible time in your life.

Ma and Mammy link up well on the pitch but off of it...It's like they don't even know each other. They don't talk. They don't do anything together and you miss old Ireland camp where Ma and Mammy were always together and they give you big kisses on both of your cheeks at the same time.

The only time they really, truly interact is an argument.

It's the game against Australia and Mammy wants you to walk out with her. She's the captain.

Ma, however, doesn't want you anywhere near the Australian team and so they argue about it.

Mammy ends up winning the argument because you ask Ma why you're not allowed to be near the Australians and she doesn't answer you besides saying that it's complicated.

So, you end up walking with Mammy and even though the World Cup hasn't been as fun as it should be, you're more than happy to sit on the bench with the rest of the Ireland girls to watch the match.

But, like everything that's happened since Ma and Mammy broke up, it goes downhill.

You're not quite sure what happened but all you know is that Ma is yelling at Caitlin and someone's holding her back from doing you don't know what.

It scares you a little bit and you cover your eyes tight. You didn't like Caitlin in your house but you didn't like Ma yelling at her either. It scares you a lot and you hide your face in your shirt and don't come out until the match is over, even when some of the girls try to coax you out with promises of food and drink.

The match ends with Ireland losing and you crying.

You're crying heavily and when Katie approaches, she knows it's not because she's just lost.

"I-I...Want to go home!" You say through your sobs, little chest heaving," Want to go home!"

"I know," Katie says. There's not much else she can say, not with Caitlin looking on in worry and Ruesha on the other side of the pitch signing shirts. "I know. We'll be home soon."

She wipes your eyes softly and kisses your head.

"I-I go home with you or Ma?"

"Who do you want to go home with?" She asks, drawing you into her arms," If you go home with Ma, you'll probably only see me every few weeks. If you go home with me then you'll have to be around Caitlin a little."

"Mammy?" You ask," Why does Ma hate Caitlin? Did she do something bad?"

"It's complicated."

"Ma says that too. Am I not allowed to know?"

"Well," Mammy says," It's not something that we should talk about until you're a bit older." She brushes hair out of your face.

You turn away from her. "Are you and Ma done forever?" You ask, a fresh wave of tears dripping down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby."

Your bottom lip trembles and you say again," I want to go home."

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[outsideratheart]

Us (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: I have no idea where this came from but it has been stuck in my head for a few weeks. I hope you guys like it!

You had been in the most important meeting of your career when you received a message.  You never turned your phone off in case there was an emergency but you did put it on do not disturb. The small vibration in your pocket told you 1 of 2 people were trying to get in touch with you. Your manager was in the meeting with you so it only left one person.

I need you, please can you come over.

As far as Alexia was aware you were in England. Your mind went to the worse case scenario because it had to be something bad if she was asking you to get on a plane and fly to Barcelona with no explanation. 

In the politest way possible you excuse yourself from the meeting and leave your future in the safe hands of your manager, who upon seeing your face backs your decision to leave without asking any questions.

A quick text is sent to your girlfriend saying that you are on your way but there’s no response. You try calling only there is no answer. By the time you get to her apartment building you are filled with worry and you waste no time in running up the stairs having no patience to wait for the elevator.

When you knock on the door you are not met by your girlfriend. 

“You’re the lion?” The resemblance was even more striking up close. You had met Alba once or you had at least been in the same room as her.

“Technically I’m a lioness” 

It makes a little more sense now. No one was aware of your relationship and in order to keep the questions at bay you didn’t save each others phone number under a name, instead it was an emoji. Yours was a lion due your national team’s nickname and your on pitch persona. Hers was a crown because she was your queen and known by the fans as La Reina.

“Alba let her in” another woman, Alexia’s mother, guides you through the apartment even though you have been here enough times to know your way around.

“You’re the girl my daughter has been seeing”  

“I am and I will happily introduce myself and answer any questions you may have after I have seen her”

“She’s in the living room. When we came she was crying and she won’t talk to any of us” one of Alexia’s best friends says.

It didn’t look good. Her mother, sister and best friend all at your girlfriends apartment yet she is refusing to talk to any of them

The three woman give you some space as you enter the living room. All of them hoped that you would have more luck at finding out what was wrong.

“Hello you” you crouch down so that you are at her level and without saying a word Alexia wraps her arms around you tightly. The speed of it almost sends you both to the ground but you steady yourself just in time.

Once on the sofa Alexia buries her face in the crook of your neck.

“How are you here?”

“That doesn’t matter. Alexia, what is wrong?”

“They won’t leave me alone. It’s like they are obsessed with my personal life. I’m happy, why isn’t that enough for them? Why do they need to get involved and keep bringing up the past?”

You were at a loss. Yes you were aware of the spotlight that was constantly on Alexia, one was on you as well but you had been dating for almost 2 years now and nobody was the wiser. 

“Who cariño?” Eli asks from the other side of the room. 

“The girls. They think that because Jenni signed for Atleti that we are going to get back together. We finally got back to a good place during the World Cup and no one seems to understand that we are just friends. We are Y/N, I promise nothing is going on” Alexia turns to look at you.

During the World Cup you saw the rumours and they spread quickly given that everyone assumes Alexia is single. At first it bothered you but the two of you talked about it and you realised that you were jealous for no reason. Alexia was your girl and only yours.

“I know” deep down you hated that she was still getting linked to another woman but it wasn’t a threat to your relationship so you let it go.

“They are going to ruin everything. They don’t even know and they are ruining—“

“Alexia, nobody is ruining anything. Let your friends talk. At the end of the day it is me and you”

The three other women in the room watched and listened as you talked Alexia through her panic. You were able to calm her and bring her peace in a moment that was very overwhelming for her.

“But Jenni is—“

“Jenni is your past and that cannot be changed. What have I told you?” You ask your girlfriend.

The woman who is still cuddled into your side mumbles something incoherent and you know she is mumbling because she doesn’t want the other women to know the words you told her during the summer.

“She’s your first love Alexia, I intend to be your last” you kiss the corner of her mouth. 

The sound of awes burst the little bubble that you had formed around you and Alexia. Clearly embarrassed, Alexia once again hides herself. 

Knowing that the two of you can’t ignore the introduction that the women are waiting for, Alexia officially introduces you to Eli, Alba and Miri as her girlfriend. 

“What happens now?” Alexia asks you “Do we tell people? I don’t want our bubble to break, everything is normal with you. We are Y/N and Alexia but when people find out we will be captains, players and rivals”

“Hey, calm down. They will change but we won’t. Do you want to be us normal or what everyone else expects us to be?”

“Us normal”

“Well then I am going to drive you back to your training facility, open the door for you like I always do, I’ll kiss you goodbye and then you’re going to go to work”

Your confidence was reassuring to all in the room.

Alexia tells you that she is going to freshen up in the bathroom which leaves you alone with three of the most important people in her life. Your media training comes in very handy as you are able to answer all of Alba’s and Miri’s questions without hesitation or breaking a sweat. However, Eli’s question catches you off guard.

“You’re the reason why Alexia didn’t come back to the room after the awards show in Dubai aren’t you?”

“Guilty but nothing happened” technically it was the truth, nothing did happen that night “We spent the night in the hotel bar talking then went to the beach to watch the sunrise”

“Can I ask you a question?” Alba says “If you were in England when you received the text would have come?”

“I would have been on the first flight out, yes”

It seemed to enough to please the younger Putellas because she simply nodded her head.

Once Alexia was ready you did as you said. The two of you drove to Joan Camper, Alexia quizzed you the entire car journey because you still hadn’t told her why you were in Barcelona. You open the door for her as expected but what Alexia didn’t expect was you to walk with her into the facility.

“I love that you care but you don’t have to do this for me, I can handle it” 

“Who says I’m doing it for you”

The two of you stop in front of the canteen. It was surrounded by glass windows and you can see the majority of the team eating their lunch.

“Us normal?” You ask Alexia and she nods her head. As you normally would whenever you visited her or she visited you, you kissed her once on the lips and then once on her hairline as she hugged you goodbye.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Alexia asks as you don’t go in the direction of the exit. 

“You asked how I’m here. Well, I have a job interview with your boss” 

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia Putellas one shot #alexia Putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni one shot #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

[loquaciousferret]

Heat Waves

Gif: @serenaxpedro

Summary: A heatwave and a broken air conditioning unit in the office leads to tensions running high between you and your partner, Javier Peña. What lengths will you consider going to, seeking relief?

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, no minors etc etc . fingering, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in an office), maybe more, just please don’t read if you can be sensitive to any kinds of sexual content

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: credit to @tightjeansjavi for the prompt, this was delightful to write hehe

You check the wall thermometer again. The needle is creeping just above 30°. You groan loudly.

For a building full of people whose work visas list them as being employed in “Janitorial Services”, the US Embassy in Medellin had a shockingly poor maintenance and janitorial department.

The air conditioning had broken yesterday, towards the end of the work day. It was bearable because it was already beginning to cool down into the evening, but today, in the mid-day sun, in a July heatwave, it had been too much for most of your colleagues to bear.

Anyone who was able to work from home had scurried off with boxes of files to catch up on paperwork in their air conditioned apartments.

But you and Javi couldn’t move the entire wall of the office where you were mapping out trade routes, connections, linking suspects together and desperately trying to find a pattern that would let you understand where exactly the evidence was that you so desperately needed.

You had probably consumed your body-weight in water. You had already shed as many layers as possible. You had even removed your tights. All that was left was a tight skirt and a blouse that was sticking to your skin all over. Plastered to your lower back, your chest. Nothing was cooling you down.

“Are you evening listening to me?” Javi sighs.

Your gaze snaps up to him, he is watching you with an expression that is more defeated than irritated.

“I’m sorry Jav, can’t think straight. This fucking heat’s making me crazy.” You say sincerely.

“Yeah, you can say that again.” He responds sympathetically.

He wipes sweat from his brow.

“Just… take a break. G’nna go outside to smoke, hopefully catch a breeze.” He mutters.

As he leaves the room, a disturbing thought crosses your mind. The shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and his back muscles flexing as he reaches for the door handle makes you question… Is Javi attractive? Well, obviously, he is, to every other woman in Colombia. But is Javi attractive to you? Not up until now, his personality thoroughly put you off. But the way he looked from behind, even with those patches of sweat staining his shirt… or, maybe, especially with those patches of sweat…

“What the fuck.” You mutter.

This heat really is making you insane. You physically shake your head to try and rid yourself of the thought. Javier fucking Peña. Yeah right.

You return your focus to the document he was attempting to discuss with you before. It was a transcript of an intercepted communication, between two parties who you couldn’t understand a reasonable explanation for them now working together. The whole thing sent your head into a spin trying to piece it together.

You knew you were on the edge of a breakthrough. You could feel it. Javi knew it too, and you were both pushing each other to your limits. He was an excellent partner. His job was the only thing he cared about. That might be the only thing you and Javi had in common. As different as the two of you were, the job was where you found mutual respect, and that was all that mattered.

Heat creeped up your chest and around the back of your neck. It was practically choking, consuming every single sense and causing a layer of impenetrable fog to settle in your mind. Being off your game at a critical point in your investigation was less than optimal.

Javi entered again and you analysed his features. If the heat was affecting him as much as it was you, he was doing a good job at not showing it.

“How are you coping with this? I feel like I’m about to be swallowed by the sun.” You groan exaggeratedly.

“Grew up in Texas.” He shrugs.

“Really?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Is that surprising?”

“Yeah. I thought Southerners were gentlemen."

“Maybe I am.” He responds, holding a bottle of water to his forehead.

You scoff and then clear your throat. “Anyway, I’m reading this again. I can’t help but think this is a code name for some kind of object or thing, not a person. If it was a person they would have come up before now. There are only so many people that run in these circles, I just don’t think we could have missed someone this important.”

He tilts his head from side to side, considering your suggestion. As he does so, the tendons in his neck protrude and you see how his tanned skin sparkles as it glistens with sweat.

Finally, he responds, “Maybe. But for what? These guys aren’t geniuses. Think we can work out the code?”

“I don’t know.” You say. “Not any further forward on that part.”

You fan yourself with some scrap paper you have folded and concertinaed carefully. You throw your head back in your seat and sigh deeply.

When you sit back up and open your eyes again, you think you find Peña’s gaze trained on your chest, but he quickly looks away.

You feel yourself equally irritated and intrigued by his staring. You had never noticed him look at you like this before.

“Everything OK, Jav?” You say, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah- Yeah. I’m good. Just- Yeah.” His eyes linger on yours for a moment and he runs his hand across his forehead, wiping away beads of sweat.

You both continue to work, but you feel his eyes continually flicking back to you, telling you he is not focussed either.

You feel as though the tension continues to build as you both try and work, and you want to tell yourself it’s not just because of the heat. But you are worried this is one-sided. Even if that would mean you were the only woman in Colombia Javi wasn’t interested in sleeping with.

As the day goes on, painfully slowly, you find yourself more and more distracted by his presence and frustrated with your lack of progress in your investigation.

You curse loudly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his gaze intense.

“I’m just… I’m so frustrated, Peña. I don’t know what to do about it.” You sigh.

“I’m sure I know how I could help you deal with it.” He says, with a glint in his eye.

You scowl at him. Now that had to have been intentional flirting.

“I feel like no matter what we do we are always running in circles chasing our own tails. How do they always stay one step ahead of us. Like you said, these guys aren’t geniuses.”

“Hey.” He says, his expression stern. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll get ‘em.”

“Every day that goes on we are losing more. I feel like I’ve already given all of myself and more to this investigation.”

He had closed the distance between you, and placed his hand over yours where you fiddled with your pen on the desk. The touch burned.

“Let me take your mind off it.” He says, something unfamiliar behind his eyes.

You ignore him, and slide the memo on your desk over towards him. “Can you assign someone else to the stakeout tomorrow. We have to be in for the meeting with-“

He cuts you off, grumbling, “You always use work talk to distract guys hitting on you?”

“Hitting on m- Jesus, Peña. The heat makin’ you fuckin’ stupid?” You shoot back.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. But he doesn’t step away from you.

“You believe in shitting where you eat?” You continue.

“Not usually. But I can see how frustrated you are. I’d be a bad partner to let you suffer like this.” He smirked.

You raise an eyebrow at him. You know the answer to your question but you want to hear him say it. “What are you suggesting?”

He leans in closer, “I’m suggesting I help you forget work a while, let me relieve some of your tension. Maybe it’ll force a breakthrough.”

“Yeah right.” You say. You turn to face him, looking for any sign in his dark eyes that he isn’t being serious in his proposition. Any sign of hesitation or doubt. Any sign that it is all some joke. But you don’t find it.

His moustache tickles as he whispers in your ear. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. “You know you want it. Let me help you.”

You want to say no, but your body betrays you as you find yourself being acted on by what seems like a magnetic force, drawing you closer to him.

You manage to produce one more protest, but it comes out weak, as though you are trying to convince yourself for a reason to say no. “That would be unprofessional.”

“Who’s gonna report us?” He taunts. “You?”

You find yourself shaking your head in response to his question, and he pounces on you, connecting his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.

An oppressive heat continues to suffocate your body, but this one isn’t from the conditions in the office, this is a fire that is coming from within, a burning flame stoked by the attraction and desire that has come over the two of you.

You give in to the feeling of him as his hands roam all over you, unbuttoning your blouse hastily and discarding it. A mixture of excitement and guilt nags at you. This is your partner. This is wrong. And not just any partner, it’s Javier Peña. He has screwed at least half the women in Medellin. This is not how you should be behaving.

But at the same time, you can’t deny the intense chemistry between you in this moment. The way your desperation and hunger perfectly matches his. The way he whispers dirty words in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His cock is already straining against his tight jeans, and you reach a hand up to palm him through the denim.

He sighs at the feeling and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you up and guiding you to sit on the desk. A strong hand parts your thighs and creeps upwards, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties. You moan into his mouth, and then blush, embarrassed by the affect his touches are having on you so quickly.

He continues to rub gently against the fabric and you reach towards him to release his belt buckle. You fumble with it and he pushes your hands away impatiently and takes it off himself, unzipping his jeans and taking out his erect cock.

He strokes himself a few times and you watch, transfixed, your breathing shallow.

He stops and gathers the hem of your skirt, pushing it up to your hips to release your thighs. He spreads you wide and pushes your underwear to the side, not bothering to remove it as he plunges two fingers inside you.

You gasp and he starts off with an already quick pace, hammering in and out of you and curling them inside you to reach the most pleasurable spots. It doesn’t take long until your legs are shaking, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. You were already sweating from the heat but now you feel as though you are melting, struggling to catch your breath and releasing desperate whines of pleasure.

His thumb reaches up to rub your clit and you moan, “Javii-”

“You like that, huh?”

He attaches his lips to your neck, sucking lightly before moving down to the valley between your collarbones, licking up beads of salty sweat that have gathered there. He moans into your skin and the sound goes right through you, you twitch and start to feel an orgasm rising inside you.

“You gonna come for me before I even fuck you, huh?” He taunts, “More desperate than I thought.”

You ignore his cocky commentary and focus on the feeling of his hands on you. You can’t deny he is skilled and knows exactly the right pace and rhythm to bring you your release quickly.

The pressure on your clit increases and he rubs faster circles around it. Tension builds in your stomach.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp out.

His other hand has reached back to stroke his cock roughly, and he lets out small sounds of pleasure into your ear. You didn’t expect him to be this vocal but it turns you on.

Your pleasure is reaching its peak and he senses it too, toying with your clit unrelentingly as you writhe on the desk beneath him, the cool surface doing nothing to calm the heat inside you. Your legs tense up as your orgasm washes over you, you lose your stability and fall backwards atop the papers and documents strewn across the desk. Your back arches and his movements don’t slow down, unashamed cries of pleasure streaming from you as you ride out your orgasm.

He shifts slightly and there isn’t a moment of rest until he removes his fingers and replaces them with his hard cock. He plunges deep inside you on the first thrust, the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, almost driving you to overstimulation with your orgasm barely subsided.

He sets a punishing pace with his haps, snapping against you hard and fast, your cunt greedily clenching and tightening around him every single time he buries himself inside you.

“Feel so good. Don’t know why I waited this long.” He mutters.

You whine, unable to form a coherent response. One of his hands is squeezing at your chest and the other is gripping your hip, pulling you down on him harder to intensify the force of every single thrust.

He is everything you thought he would be, hungry and passionate and clearly practiced in the art of both giving and taking pleasure.

Your sounds echo around the room. Neither of you worry about this, knowing the office was nearly empty. Even then, your desire for him clouds your mind so far to the extent that you don’t think you would mind being caught anyway. It was worth the risk.

He takes both of your legs and manoeuvres you, bending them and lifting them up so they lazily rest against his shoulders. Thank god for yoga, you think.

The new position tightens you up and somehow allows him even deeper access. You moan shamelessly and he grunts with every single thrust. His pace is unrelenting and you feel him becoming more and more forceful with each one, chasing his climax.

“Can I come inside you?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You are unable to form words, you nod, your mouth hanging open but no sounds come out other than strangled gasps.

“Fuckkk.” He grunts, turned on even more at the prospect of filling you up and it sends him over the edge.

He spills into you, your name thrown in amongst the curses he mutters as he comes. He keeps a tight hold of you as he steadies his breathing.

Moments after he releases inside you, you feel the relief he had been promising. You close your eyes and let out a deep, contented sigh.

And then, suddenly, they fly open again.

“Move!” You almost yell, pushing his chest away from you.

“Move. I’ve got it.” He pulls himself away from you and you leap up, pulling your skirt back down. You grab a pen and begin scribbling frantic notes over the transcript.

“I’ve got it.” You repeat.

“Worked even better than I imagined.” He teased, smirking as he buttoned his jeans and re-fastened his belt before coming to join you and see the revelation you had come to.

“Good to know.” He adds, “Nice tactic for the future.”

You roll your eyes at him and thrust the paper towards him with satisfaction. He might be right, it might have been the sex that did the trick, but you would never admit it.

More Javier Peña oneshots:

Over and Done With | Partners | All Work, No Play | Little Games

#javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #narcos smut #narcos fanfiction #agent pena #javier pena #narcos fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

[beomgyucoded]

Lyrically Bound

Pairing: Rockstar!Beomgyu x Lyricist!Reader

Word Count: 17.3k

Genre: sort of strangers to lovers, soulmate au

Warnings: reality Beomgyu, cursing, underaged drinking, mentions and descriptions of kissing, allusions to sex (no actual smut), use of pet names (Beomgyu calls reader princess), reader is a little judgmental of Beomgyu at first

Summary: in this world, soulmates are a rarity. There’s only a handful of people that have a connection so strong, that they share a fate. Your parents were one of the few, and you could only hope you were too. By high school you gave up most of your hope, however the second you get to Seoul for college you’re met with an ache in your chest and movie like dreams that leave you feeling warm.

Soulmates were so rare in this world that most people didn’t believe they existed. No one tried to discover if they shared a connection meant to last a lifetime because of the infinitesimal chance. Instead, they would listen to stories that felt more like fairy tales- so out of reach- and then express their desire for such a tie to another soul. You were no stranger to these stories. You were often the storyteller, as your parents were one of the few.

Your parents met in high school. Your dad from Seoul and your mom from Jeju. Your mom had begged to go to a performing arts high school in Seoul, which happened to be the one your dad went to. Your mom said she’d never forget how she felt on her first day. There was this indescribable feeling the second she stepped foot into the school. She blamed it on first-day nervousness, but when the feeling continued to grow and a small mark in the shape of a guitar appeared right under her collarbone, she almost passed out. It was a big school, and it wasn't until the school’s winter festival that they encountered each other. When their eyes met, everything fell into place. While your mom knew that it was because they were soulmates, your dad believed it was love at first sight. Your mom, being as bold as she was, walked right up to him and asked “Do you believe in soulmates?” and showed him her guitar mark. 

            It is also believed that the child of soul mates is more likely to have a soulmate of their own. At least you hoped. Despite how long it’s been, you’ve watched as your parents fall more in love with each other every day. And you only wish to have that kind of connection with another person, too. Since soul links weren’t as obvious and were different for everyone, it was even more difficult to determine whether you had a soulmate or not. Throughout school, whenever you felt the tiniest bit for someone, you’d hold on to it thinking it could be something. It never was. 

“It’ll feel stronger than that.” Your mom always told you. 

She described it as “all your feelings hitting you at once,” and “there will be this feeling of familiarity when you’re near each other.” 

Hearing that made your longing for a soulmate even stronger. When you got to high school, you were sure signs of a soul link would show up like how it did for your parents. But when that didn’t happen, you decided to let go of the idea altogether.

            Aside from being known as the “child of soulmates”, you were also a musical genius (as your dad liked to put it). You possessed a lot of natural talent, especially in songwriting, since you were a child. This wasn’t surprising, considering both your parents were musicians in school. 

“You have such a way with words,” something you’ve been told since grade school.

  And because of this, music and writing revolve around you like the moon revolves around the earth. You had quite the voice too, your mom giving you voice lessons since you were three. Something strange, however, was the moment you picked up a guitar in your middle school band class, you could play it almost perfectly. The strange part being that you were never taught how to play the guitar before. The only explanation you could think of at the time was that your dad played guitar, and the soulmate bond between your parents was stronger than you believed. So strong that even their child could inherit what brought them together. You didn’t think too much of it, instead using the skill to help in your songwriting. 

That is how you ended up where you are currently, a resident singer/songwriter who everyone thinks is special, mostly because of her parents being soulmates. It seemed college admission officers thought so too, because at the moment you were packing up your things to go off to college. You were admitted to a college with one of the best music departments in the world, and on a full scholarship. Your parents encouraged you tremendously when making the decision. They said your talent shouldn’t go to waste and that they never had the courage to pursue music like you do. 

“Are you completely sure I should go to Seoul?” 

You asked one more time, watching as your parents happily helped you pack your things. 

“Why wouldn’t we be sure, dear? Music is what you want to do, right? I hope it doesn’t seem like we’re forcing you or that we just want you out of the house.” Your mom said and hurriedly added that last part. 

You giggled softly at her rushed sentences and continued to watch them. 

“I know you aren't, and I promise this is what I want to do. I’m just making sure you aren’t having second thoughts about sending your only child off.” You joked lightly, reassuring her.

 Truthfully, you were the one having second thoughts. You've always been rather independent, but both your parents always gave you unconditional support in any of your endeavors. You never felt alone or had to actually be all alone. Until now. Now, you were moving to the city all by yourself and would be in a new environment where no one knew you or of you. That was terrifying. 

“Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate in college.” Your dad’s voice brings you out of your thoughts before they can turn dark. 

“I don’t have a soulmate, Dad.” You mumbled softly. 

“You don’t know that for sure. Some people go their whole life without meeting theirs because they refuse to look.” 

“They refuse because there’s a less than 3 percent chance that they would even have one. And I did look.” 

Your dad only shook his head and chuckled at you. 

“I didn’t think you were one to lose hope. What happened to the little princess who only wanted to meet her prince and get married?” 

“She faced reality,” you said bluntly. 

“I’m sorry, that didn’t come out the way I wanted. But seriously, I’m not getting married.”

“You say that now, but when you meet him, I'm sure the first thing you’ll want to do is put a ring on it.”

Shaking your head amused, you returned to your thoughts. To be honest, you never gave up hope. To most people, you had everything a child could want, yet you always felt like something was missing. From your life and you as a person. Your parents met in high school, and it was silly of you to believe that you would meet your soulmate in high school, too. No story is the same. You, of all people, should know that. 

“You’re right, I’m not one to give up. I haven’t. Even if I don’t have a soulmate, maybe I’ll meet someone there anyway.” You said, trying your hardest to be optimistic. Soulmates aren’t everything. You seemed to have forgotten that.

“You’ve dated other people before, so maybe you will. Keep your head up, sweetheart. Let’s finish packing your things.” Your mom said warmly.

The next day, you woke up early. You couldn’t sleep, mostly because you were leaving for Seoul today and because of your conversation about potentially meeting someone at college. Your dad’s words echoed in your head as you were trying to sleep, his words slowly morphed into fantasies that you played out in your head all night. Sitting up in your bed, you looked around your mostly empty room and sighed. You picked up your phone and saw that it was just past 4 a.m. Groaning, you pushed the covers off and got up, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.

After getting ready for the day, you decided to just walk around your house. Looking into every room, all the picture frames and decor, capturing mental images and saving them in your head as you wouldn’t be back here for a long time. Your things were already packed away in your car, just waiting for you to drive away. Your parents will be accompanying you, only because they want to be the ones to show you all around the apartment they got for you. They thought you’d have a better experience in Seoul if you lived in an apartment rather than on campus. You didn’t realize how long you've been standing and staring at the pictures on the wall until the creak of the stairs brought you back to the present. 

“You're awake early.” Your dad stated amused.

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.” You said sleepily, a small yawn escaping after. 

Your mom laughed softly, and went to the kitchen, bringing back a tall glass of orange juice. 

“Here, sweetie,” she said and handed it to you. 

You downed it quickly (quicker than you should have), then turned to find your parents interacting cutely. Your dad was on one knee, tying the laces of your mom’s shoes for her while she looked at him lovingly. You smiled at the interaction, just admiring them. They were endearingly perfect for each other, and you were glad to witness their expressions of affection. 

“Ready?” Your dad asked animatedly. 

“How are you so awake every day?” You asked, failing to understand how they were able to sleep and actually have energy after waking up. 

To this your mom answered, 'It's a soulmate thing,” and that was all the explanation you needed. You put on your shoes and let out a huff. 

“Okay, let’s do this.” 

You took one more glance around the inside of your childhood home and then left, locking the front door behind you and meeting your parents in the driveway. You got into the backseat of your car, your dad insisting on driving, and your mom in the passenger seat. The drive was four hours long but felt like an eternity due to the anticipation. The closer you got to Seoul, the more you felt the nervousness bubble in the pit of your stomach. You rotated between looking out the window, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, twirling strands of your hair around your finger, and replying to texts from your friends asking how excited you must be. You tried replying wholeheartedly, but you were a mixture of excited, nervous, and scared– excited making up the smallest part of the ratio. After what felt like an endless journey, your dad stopped the car in front of a very luxurious-looking apartment building. Your eyes widened, mouth hanging open unintentionally as you looked out the window.

“Are you sure this is the right building?” You asked in both awe and shock as you stepped out of the car and craned your head upwards. 

They could only laugh at your response and actions. 

“It sure is.” Your mom replied, looking over at your dad and shooting him a proud look. 

“Come on, we’ll bring your stuff up a little later.” Your dad said and ushered you forward, taking your mom’s hand as the three of you walked into the building. 

Your eyes darted everywhere around the lobby, staying silent as you were at a loss for words. Your parents motioned for you to press the button for the elevator, and you did just that. 

“Press 12.” Your mom said excitedly.

Your eyes widened for the umpteenth time since arriving in Seoul, and you shakily pressed the button for the twelfth and highest floor. The elevator ride, unlike the car ride, was both smooth and faster than you were ready for. You followed them out of the elevator and they led you to the last door at the end of the hallway. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” Your dad asked you and held up a set of keys. 

You nodded and took the set of keys, fumbling them in your hands before finally unlocking the door to your new home for the next four years. You took small steps inside and gasped.

“This... is mine?” You asked, eyes still wide and full of doubt as you turned around to ask. 

“All yours sweetie.” Your mom confirmed and smiled lovingly. 

You took a look around the one-bedroom apartment, that was definitely too large for an 18-year-old. It had everything you could need, topped with a beautiful view of the city, and was within walking distance from your college campus. It all seemed too good to be true, too good to be all yours. You looked around cautiously, not daring to touch anything, barely even grasping the door knobs to see into each room. You came back to the lounge area and disbelief was written all over your face. 

“This is really for me?” You asked in a soft voice. 

They smiled at each other and your dad nodded at you. 

“It’s the very least you deserve since you earned a full scholarship. We wanted to get you a beautiful place with the money we put away for your college fund. Maybe you’ll continue to stay here after you graduate.” He said proudly.

Proud of you and all your accomplishments and proud of himself and your mom for finding such a perfect place for you. 

“I love it so much, how can I ever thank you?” You said, eyes now glossed over as you hugged both of your parents. 

“You don’t have to sweetie, just continue to do what you do and be happy. That’s all we could ask of you, for you to be happy.” Your mom said, and that almost made your pool of emotions overflow, but you held it in. 

They helped you bring your things from your car and they left soon after that, wanting to reminisce around the city they met in. It was Monday, and classes didn’t start until two weeks from now. The plan was to take the rest of this week to settle into your apartment, take next week to familiarize yourself with the city and take the week before classes started to explore your campus. 

However, things never go according to plan. By your third day here, you found yourself both bored and somewhat uneasy. The uneasiness had been present since you arrived, and you hoped it would settle by now. It did settle, by making home in the pit of your stomach with no intentions of easing up. It made you so restless that you were able to unpack most, if not all, of your things and even got your music room set up. That only took you two days, and now on the third day, you were sitting in the music room with your guitar just staring out the window. 

“Maybe I should go out today…” You thought to yourself, putting your guitar down and getting up.

You’d been living off whatever you and your mom brought from home and put in the fridge and the pantry. You decided to go out and look for the nearest convenience store or grocery store, and maybe take some time to wander around the area too. Stepping outside of your apartment building for the first time in three days, you typed “convenience store near me” into your phone and set off in whichever direction felt right.

After walking for a few minutes, you finally looked up and realized you had absolutely no idea where you wandered off to. Your phone is not being any help either, so you typed in the address of your apartment building and decided to start again. Luckily you didn’t wander off as far as you thought and when you got back to the only familiar building, you chose your steps carefully this time. That didn’t make a difference, because after a few minutes, you still found yourself lost. 

“Are you lost?” a voice asked from next to you. 

“Is it that obvious?” you asked and giggled softly, looking up from your phone to meet the eyes of a boy who looked around your age.

He was much taller than you, bleach blonde hair that had grown out a little and he had a very sweet look to him. 

“A little bit, yeah,” he replied with a slight laugh, “did you just move here?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I did, like three days ago. I’m originally from a little town in Ulsan.”

“Oh wow, that’s far. What made you move to Seoul?” 

“I’m here for college.”

“Wait, are you going to Seoul National University?” 

“Yes I am, do you go there?”

“I will be. Some friends of mine and I are all starting there in two weeks.”

“Guess I’ll see you around there too”

“I’m Kai”

“(Y/N)”

“Well (y/n), where were you trying to go? I’d love to help.”

“I’m trying to look for the closest convenience store.”

“Oh! There’s one super close to campus if you don’t mind walking there.”

“I don't mind at all, I was going to check out the campus  eventually anyways.”

“Alright then, follow me.”

You followed Kai as he walked to the convenience store he was talking about and you were grateful to find someone nice enough to help you. 

“So, what are you planning on majoring in?”

“Music composition.”

“My friends and I will also be in the music department. We’re in a band together.”

“Really? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, we’ve been a band since high school and got enough recognition to get signed under a label.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I’m a songwriter or lyricist if you will.”

“Oh, that’s really cool too. Do you play any instruments or do you just write?”

“I play the guitar.”

“I play the drums, our lead singer plays the guitar. Maybe you guys will get along well. And here we are, one convenience store.” He said and made a grand gesture causing you to laugh. 

“Thank you so much, I hope this wasn’t out of your way or anything.”

“Oh no worries, I was on my way back to campus. I should get back and help them move our stuff into the dorms. It was nice meeting you (y/n), see you around.”

“It was nice meeting you too Kai, thank you again.”

He waved at you and walked off in the direction the campus was in and you let out a sigh. The uneasiness in your stomach moved up to your chest while walking over here. Was Kai your soulmate? You thought to yourself and then remembered your mom’s words. There was no feeling of familiarity when you met Kai, and nothing… clicked. Letting out a huff, you shook the thoughts out of your head and went into the convenience store. 

Meanwhile, Kai was greeted with the sounds of frustrating groans and then the sound of something heavy being dropped.

“What took you so long?” Beomgyu asked, panting slightly. 

“Sorry, I ran into this girl and she was lost so I helped her.”

“Was she hot?”

“Is that seriously all that matters to you, Beomgyu?” Taehyun chimed in from his place on the floor. 

“Well if she was, I’ll let his lateness go.”

“Fine, yes, she was pretty,” Kai replied truthfully. 

“Okay, now please help Tae and me before one of us ends up killing the other,” Beomgyu said and pushed the hair out his face, bringing a hand to his chest. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because he’s been lugging boxes for the past thirty minutes or what, but his chest was hurting. Shaking it off, he clapped his hands together and picked up a lighter box, watching as Kai and Taehyun struggled to carry the big heavy box in front of him. 

You scanned the aisles of the convenience store, pleased with what you were seeing and picking up a few things. As you were checking out, a bright, colorful flyer caught your eye. It was from Big Dreams Music and it was a contest. Specifically, a songwriting contest, your forte. Taking a picture of the flyer, you put your phone back into your pocket and took the bag full of snacks, making your way back to your apartment. 

After putting your goodies away, you sat on the couch, pulling out your phone to read over the flyer you took a picture of. It was a songwriting competition for a band called Lethal Division. Their label wanted to change up their sound and was accepting entries. The band's name caused your heart to race out of nowhere. It was familiar to you, you’ve heard girls talk about them in high school, especially the lead singer. But that’s all you can recall when it comes to their image, you didn’t even know their names or anything. You’ve heard their music before, and you remember them being great in the beginning before they gained popularity. Now their music just sounded like noise and you’ve lost interest. You thought it was sad when music didn’t speak. You were always praised for your songs and how they moved people, so maybe you’d be able to help them move people too. You locked your phone, a slight frown on your face as you thought about what you should write. 

“I’ll sleep on it. And I should probably look them up tomorrow to get a better idea of what would suit them.” You said to yourself and decided to turn in for the night, hoping this ache in your chest would let you sleep for once. 

Waking up the next morning, you felt different, to say the least.  You felt warm from the inside. It was a comforting warmth. Better than the ache you’ve been feeling. The more you regained consciousness, the more you remembered the dream you had last night and you gasped. Sprinting out of bed, you hurriedly found an empty page in your songbook and started to write. 

Beomgyu woke up the next morning, his mind fuzzy. It felt as if he wasn’t here last night, but he knew that he was. The ache was gone from his chest, instead replaced by a comforting warmth, and he felt a small burning sensation on his arm. Looking, he saw a mark in the shape of a pen. The mark was small, barely noticeable and he wondered if one of the guys drew on him or he got a tattoo he just couldn’t remember. 

“Am I still dreaming? Why does this burn?” He thought to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

Getting up, he tried not to trip over the many boxes littered around the room. They managed to bring all their stuff into their dorm but didn’t unpack any of it. All that was set up was his guitar stand for his precious guitar. He learned to play the guitar when he was in middle school, his dad taught him and it became his favorite pastime since he learned. So much so that he played guitar in his high school band. The other members of the band convinced him to perform at the end-of-year festival solo, and that was when he and the rest of the school discovered he had a voice. He never had singing lessons before, only really humming to himself from time to time. But his voice was beautiful, it was smooth and deep– and soothing, and people wanted to hear more. It was from there that his friends and him decided to start a band of their own, him being the lead singer and lead guitarist. They became fairly popular in school and their song covers are what led to Big Dreams Music discovering them and eventually signing them. It all felt like a whirlwind, but he didn’t mind it. This was his dream, after all, to be able to play guitar on stage. By their third year of high school, they had an ep out, songs fully written by them, and their popularity skyrocketed all around Seoul, even to other parts of the country.

 His ego also skyrocketed. They became known as the rockstars of their school, and he took advantage of his status sometimes. Their newfound fame eventually became more important than their music, their songs going from their heartfelt words to whatever the label thought would sell for them. None of them seemed to mind, knowing their newer fans were more there for their looks and just one chance for a night with a rockstar. Some fans got that chance, the old “band members taking a lucky fan backstage”  idea intrigued them, so after a show, that’s what they did and it became an infamous tradition. 

“We’re teenage boys.” Taehyun would always say and shrug it off. He was right, they were teenage boys– good-looking, talented teenage boys who had needs.

 Their last show was their high school graduation party, and they couldn’t carry out their little tradition then. Instead, they had to pack up for college. Seoul National University offered him and his friends admission to their music department, and although he thought college wasn’t too necessary, he couldn’t refuse the offer. Their music department was the best in the world, and getting to meet college girls wasn’t too bad of a perk either. 

Since classes haven’t started yet, he has yet to meet any college girls. Instead, the guys and him would go out and enjoy Seoul’s nightlife. He knew he was attractive, it was undeniable, and being a rockstar only made it that much easier to get anyone he wanted. However, it was nothing more than that, he never thought he wanted anything more. At least that's how it appeared to everyone on the outside, on the inside– he felt incomplete, and despite living his dream, there was still something missing. He heard the stories about soulmates here and there, not believing in them though. He thought it was too good to be true, the notion that there was someone out there just for him.

 When he was younger, he looked it up out of curiosity. And after seeing that there was practically no chance of him having one because of the rarity, he tossed any hope he had out the window. Though part of him thinks there’s still a chance, cause he still hasn’t had a steady relationship. His “love life” consists of many baseless hookups, both him and whoever he was with for the night wanting only one thing from each other. This had been working for him, he was overall satisfied and his needs were being met, until recently. A few days ago there had been this uneasy feeling building in his chest, and it had been prominent until now. Now, it was gone and replaced by an internal warm and fuzzy feeling. He didn’t know how to explain it to Kai and Taehyun without sounding insane, now he didn’t have to. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. 

“Gyu, are you up?” Taehyun called from the other side. 

He opened the door to reveal a slightly disheveled Taehyun, bright eyes wider than usual. 

“Yeah, I was just about to get ready for the day, what’s up? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?”

“The label called.” 

His eyes now widened to match Taehyun’s and he felt his hands start to clam up. 

“What did they say…?” He hesitantly asked. 

“They need all three of us to come in right now.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair multiple times. 

“Is Hyuka awake?”

“Yeah, he was the one who got the call.”

“Alright, let’s see what they want.”

They got ready quickly and waited for the car to take them to their label’s building. Beomgyu was anxious– no he was scared. Every time they got a call from the label out of nowhere, he was always scared of suddenly being dropped. They all shared this fear, they worked hard for their fame and although their band isn't what it used to be, it was still their dream. A dream they didn't want to wake up from yet. The company car dropped them off in front of the building and they went to their usual meeting room. Everyone was already there waiting for them. 

“We’re holding a contest.” Their manager announced. 

The three of them let go of the breath they've been holding in, it coming out as a collective sigh of relief. The looks of nervousness were quickly replaced by confusion. 

“A contest for what?” Kai was the one to speak up.

“A contest to find your new sound. According to data we've been compiling, your music is no longer selling well and we think a completely new songwriter will help.”

Beomgyu sat up fully now, intrigued by their producer’s words and he crossed his arms. 

“And why can’t we go back to writing our own songs?”

“Because I'm not sure you guys know how to do that anymore.”

Their producer’s words felt like a slap to the face. Beomgyu knew he was right, what could he possibly write about now that had any substance? Fame? Money? Sex? That was all people wrote about now and he didn’t show it anymore, but he wanted their band to be different. After that little meeting, the flyers that were put up about the contest became more evident to him. They were there for god knows how long, but he’s only seeing them now.

 “How caught up in myself am I?” He thought to himself, resting his head on the window of the car as it drove them back to their dorm. 

You had been writing for hours, eventually moving to your music room, guitar on standby to play any melody that came to mind. The dream last night was unlike anything you've ever experienced. It felt like you were watching a movie, except you were able to feel and experience everything the main character was. It wasn’t entirely clear, but whoever the dream was about had such complex thoughts and a beautiful outlook on life, yet it was clear (at least to you) that they were holding something back. Before moving to your music room, you called your parents to tell them what you've been experiencing and about the dream. Your mom confirmed that what you had last night was a soulmate dream, and from now on until you meet him, this is how you will be learning about him. This was more than exciting news, you had a soulmate, he was close by, and just from the first dream, you already knew he was everything you've been missing. 

A little more than a week had passed, a new dream every night and you were certain that your soulmate was perfect in every way. Every morning when you woke up, you woke up with that warm, comforting feeling. It went away after some time during the day, replaced by the same ache from before, but always came back when you woke up from a dream. 

You finished writing the song and even wrote a few more, all either about him or inspired by him. The deadline for the contest was today, so right now you’re filling out the submission form. Chewing on your bottom lip, you flipped through the pages of your songbook, trying to decide which one to send in. You decided to go with the one you started writing after having the first dream. It had a theme of meeting for the first time, the song sending a message saying “I’ve been waiting for you” or "Where have you been?” Your hands were shaking while uploading the lyrics and the melody you wrote, the last thing left to be filled out was the name the submission would be under.

You had a distinct writing style, and you were always proud of your work, but that was in your small town in Ulsan. This was for a big record label in Seoul. Your thoughts started to eat away at you, fingers hovering over the delete key more than any other one on the keyboard. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes tightly. You didn’t want to have any regrets so, without a second thought, you quickly opened your eyes, typed “Lyric” into the name box, and hit send. 

Classes started soon after that, the contest now fading to the back of your mind. You continued to have soulmate dreams, and whoever he was continued to inspire you. You were certain he was beautiful, both inside and out, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. You tried to keep your thoughts chained to what you knew. Which was that he was nearby and he shared your love for music. You shared many other things too, from what you’ve learned in the dreams, and it only made you want to meet him as soon as you could. However you couldn’t actively pursue him, it needed to happen naturally. Of all the stories you heard, when the soul link became evident, both parties would feel a pull to the other. Not a physical pull of course, but something in your mind and your heart that says that you need to go and talk to that person. With the start of classes, you didn’t know if you’ve felt that pull to anyone. Mostly because all of your attention has been thrown into your studies. 

 You hadn’t seen Kai since you first met him, even though he said his friends and him were also attending this college and were also in the music department. Being in the music department didn’t mean he was also in the same major or that you’d share any classes though. Aside from that, much to your surprise, some of your professors have heard of you. They knew all about the music prodigy from Ulsan, who was raised by a rare couple of soulmates. And because of this, they decided to try and make your life here a living hell. They weren’t convinced that it all came naturally to you and that you would crumble under pressure. You were determined to prove them wrong though, and you have been, even catching some of them off guard by how quickly and skillfully you were able to submit their assignments. You felt like you’ve been swept up in a storm, and it didn’t seem like it would be easing up any time soon. Any free time you had, you spent writing. Either lyrics that come to mind or anything you can remember from your dreams. 

The semester carried on like this and it felt like you were the only one being swamped with work. You were beyond stressed out, not expecting college to be like this. Everyone else around you seemed to have free time for dating or parties or anything else, as you’d hear them talk about plans all the time. You’d hear mentions of that band too, mostly about the release of their next single. 

“It’s been so long since we’ve gotten new music from them” you heard one girl say. 

“I know right, and I heard it’s supposed to be better this time.” 

“Yeah! They got a new songwriter or something.” 

“Even if it isn’t good, they’re all still hot.” 

“Yeah, and new music means concerts. And you know what concerts mean” 

“And since they go here, we’ve got an even better chance” 

You started to tune out at this point in their conversation, realization taking over your features. 

“Kai said he was in a band and that they go here.” You recalled. 

“Apparently Lethal Division goes here and they have a new songwriter..” You started to connect the dots. 

“The contest.” You froze and finally concluded that Kai’s band is that band and the contest was to change up their new sound. 

Quickly, you pull out your laptop to check your email, you scrolled through hundreds of emails to see if the record label got back to you. Finally, you came across it. You won. Or well, Lyric did. And the new single they were coming back with, was going to be one written by you. You read through the email as thoroughly as you could and you still couldn’t believe what you were reading. You received the email almost a month ago, and they probably thought you ignored them. Sighing, you packed up your stuff and left the lecture hall, going to the practice room you reserved. Your stress suddenly increased, an even heavier weight crushing your shoulders as you walked. You weren’t one to be forgetful, not like this, but judging from the fact that they were still using your song, you guess the email was just to inform you. 

You got to the building the practice rooms were in and trudged to room 0121, the one you reserved. However, instead of being met with an empty practice room, you were met with the door locked shut, the sound of instruments and loud laughter on the other side. Dropping your head, you closed your eyes and tried to center yourself. The ache in your chest intensified all of a sudden and you took that as a sign to go home. You also didn’t have the energy to argue with whoever was in there. Opening your eyes, you took one last look at the locked door and left.

Beomgyu didn't think college would go by this smoothly. He thought a school with such a renowned music program would be more difficult, but it’s been the opposite. Maybe it was the fact that he was rockstar Choi Beomgyu, but he found his classes to be a breeze. All the free time his bandmates and he had, was spent either partying or rehearsing for their comeback. The contest was a better idea than he realized. He wasn't going to give their label too much credit though. Their producer and them went through all the entries together on the days they didn't have class and the winning entry was nothing short of incredible. It was by someone who, fittingly, went by "Lyric”. It felt like the song was written just for him, the lyrics struck a feeling in everyone's heart as they listened to the demo. The sound was just what they needed, and he couldn't wait to perform it on stage. 

Beomgyu spent the next few days practicing the lyrics to Lyric's song, trying to perfect every cadence and melody. He found himself humming it in the shower and even while he was trying to sleep. The more he practiced, the more he fell in love with it. It spoke to him in a way no other song had before. One thing that never changed about Beomgyu, was that he loved being on stage more than anyone else. He felt like how he did when they first formed the band and he hasn’t felt this eager about their music in a long time. His band members could tell how much the song meant to him and they loved seeing him like this, it made them excited to perform as well.  

Beomgyu’s only class for the day went by slowly, he didn’t want to be there, and staring at the clock only seemed to make time pass slower. When the professor dismissed them, he was the first out of the room, immediately making his way to the building where the practice rooms were. He got stopped along the way by a few girls, which he of course had to entertain for a bit.  The school gave Beomgyu and his bandmates the privilege of rehearsing whenever they wanted without having to reserve a room, so when he got there, he went to the first empty room he could find. Taehyun didn’t have classes today, so he would be bringing Beomgyu’s guitar and there was already a keyboard and drums in the room. Kai’s class would end soon and then they would practice the setlist for their upcoming show. 

Beomgyu sat down on the floor in front of the keyboard, waiting impatiently for Taehyun to arrive with his guitar. He couldn't wait to start rehearsing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, envisioning himself on stage, the crowd cheering loudly as he performed their new hit single. Suddenly, the door creaked open and he opened his eyes to see Taehyun walking in with his guitar case.

"Finally, you're here," Beomgyu said, grinning.

"Sorry, I got held up," Taehyun replied, setting down Beomgyu's guitar and taking his place in front of the keyboard. 

"But now that I'm here, let's get started."

Kai walked in a few minutes later, panting slightly from having to rush to get here.

"I made it," he said with a smile as he sat down at the drumset.

They started with their new single, and Beomgyu's voice filled the room as he sang the first verse. They played through their setlist multiple times, perfecting each song until it was flawless. As they played, Beomgyu couldn't help but get lost in the music, feeling every emotion conveyed by his guitar. It was cathartic, playing music with his best friends by his side.

After a few hours of practice, they decided to take a break and grab some food from the vending machines down the hall. They sat on the floor of the practice room, munching on chips and drinking soda as they talked about their upcoming show.

"I can't wait to see the look on our fans' faces when we start playing," Taehyun said excitedly.

Kai nodded in agreement. "It's gonna be fucking amazing." 

Beomgyu felt a sudden surge of adrenaline at the thought of performing for their fans. He knew that they had been waiting eagerly for this concert, and he wanted to make sure that it was the best show they had ever put on. He glanced around at Taehyun and Kai and knew that they felt the same way. As they finished their snacks, Beomgyu stood up and stretched his arms above his head. 

"Let's get back to it," he said, his voice filled with determination.

They made their way back to their instruments and started playing once again. This time, they focused on fine-tuning their performance, working on every little detail until it was perfect. Beomgyu felt like he was in a trance, lost in the music. Rehearsing soon turned into them fooling around, playing random chords, and laughing. As they played, he couldn't help but feel a sense of heat building up inside him. That ache from before suddenly intensified in his chest and he had to stop. 

“You okay man?” Kai asked concerned, standing up from his place at the drums and looking at Taehyun. 

“We should call it for today,” Taehyun spoke up hesitantly. 

Beomgyu didn’t want to, but the ache was taking a lot out of him. He put a hand over his chest and sighed. 

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," Beomgyu said, his voice small.

 He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. 

"Was I getting sick?" He thought to himself. 

The sound of the door trying to be opened caught his attention and all three of them turned to the door. A few seconds later, the ache settled down, back to how it was before. He got used to the feeling in the pit of his stomach, except for now, when it spiked like this. He put his guitar back in its case and slung it over his shoulder, the three of them going back to their dorm. 

The moment you got back to your apartment, you sat on your bed and just stared out the window. A lot happened just now, and you were overwhelmed, to say the least. You found out that you won the contest, and the label was practically relying on your song to bring the band back to where they used to be music-wise. You also realized that Kai was in that band and they went to school with you. And lastly, whoever was in that room had to be your soulmate. The closer you got to the practice room, the more your chest ached, and when you were in front of the door, it pained you more than it ever had before. All you wanted was to relieve your stress by writing, however, that wasn’t going to happen now. Yes, you had your music room in your apartment, but you always wrote there. You wanted a change of scenery, and whoever was behind the locked door clearly didn’t know what reserved meant. 

When Beomgyu got back to his dorm, he immediately went to his room. He didn’t understand what was going on with him. Every morning he woke up feeling warm, and as if he just got back from somewhere. Then, the mark on his arm. He asked Taehyun and Kai if any of them drew it on him, and they couldn’t even see it. Instead, they asked if he had some kind of sixth sense where he could see things they couldn’t, while laughing at him. It was there though. He saw it clearly. The small mark in the shape of a pen. Lastly, the ache. He’s been feeling it since they moved into the dorm on campus. It’s been bearable, settling in his stomach and it never bothered him much. Not until today. Today it felt like someone was squeezing his heart and it hurt. He couldn’t be getting sick, it would ruin everything right now. And if he wasn’t getting sick, he didn’t know how else to explain what was happening to him. 

You thought the dreams would stop since you were so close to your soulmate yesterday. They haven’t, you continued to have them but they were a little different now. They seemed more current, you were learning about how he was feeling and things he was thinking about now. Before, you learned about what he was like, things he experienced that made him who he is, like an introduction. All of it was fuzzy, but you remembered what you needed to. Last night’s dream made you wake up feeling worried, even with the warm feeling present. The dream allowed you to learn that your soulmate was distressed, almost upset about something. It was strange to you, how you don’t know this person but you do. How you care about someone you haven’t even properly met, and how you were able to understand him completely. Whoever he was.

You sighed and got up. It was Saturday today, and it was your first completely free day in a while. The band’s concert is next week, where they will debut your song as their new single. You were avoiding anything about it like the plague, you weren’t going to go to the concert either. No one else has ever performed your songs before, and the thought of that made embarrassment wash over you. Despite it being your free day, you couldn’t shake what you learned in your dream. Pulling out your songbook, you started to write. 

It was Saturday today, and even though Beomgyu was out late last night, he woke up bright and early. He thought partying would distract him from thinking about everything, and it did, but only for a short while. The girl he was with last night didn’t help much either. For once he felt unsatisfied, he needed more. More of what? That, he didn’t know. Maybe it was his nerves because the concert was coming up and they were trying a new sound. He woke up feeling warm again, the feeling now something he’s gotten used to. He thought it was nice, to wake up feeling warm and comfortable. He wished it would last longer than it did, fading not too long after he woke up. 

Beomgyu got out of bed and stretched, feeling a sudden pang of self-doubt. He knew it was the concert looming over him, it had to be, and the fear of not being able to deliver something new and exciting to his fans. The pressure was weighing heavily on him, but he couldn't let it show. He had to keep up the facade that he was confident and in control.

He made his way to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake off the feeling of dissatisfaction and longing. He needed something to distract himself, something to take his mind off the concert and all these other things happening to him. 

You wrote for most of the day, composing a song meant to make him feel better. Aside from that, you used your free time to talk to your friends, catch up on your shows, and go grocery shopping. Some of your friends were also attending college in Seoul and they planned to go out tonight. You weren’t against going out, it just wasn’t your favorite thing. Yet here you were, putting on a dress, too short to be considered one, and getting ready to go out with them. You felt you looked good, hot even. You haven’t gotten dressed up like this in a while, let alone been to a party or club. Your friends claimed that you needed something to relieve your stress, their exact words being “someone” not “something”.

No one but your parents knew about your soulmate, and you didn’t want to tell anyone else yet. Having a soulmate was a big deal, and you didn’t want the night to turn into them trying to find him for you. But you also didn’t want them to push you onto another guy. It felt like you were cheating. But how could you cheat on someone who was yours, but didn’t know you existed yet? It was complicated. Looking at your phone you saw it was nearing 9 pm, you all agreed to meet up at the house the party was being thrown at 9. It wasn’t a far drive from your apartment, so you took your time getting ready and ordering your Uber.

The guys could tell Beomgyu wasn’t okay. He was normally good at hiding his emotions, but his distress was written plainly on his face. There was another party tonight, and it surprisingly took convincing from his friends for him to go. He gave himself one last look in the mirror, satisfied with how he looked. Kai said he needed a distraction or two, and he knew what he meant. It was around 9:30 p.m. when they met up in the general lounge area after getting ready. Taehyun slung an arm over his shoulders. 

“This is just nerves because of the concert. But don’t worry, after our concert, we’ll start up our tradition again and things will be back to normal.” Taehyun said and smirked, giving him a nudge. 

He was right. This was all just nerves. Beomgyu was fine, he just needed to let go at this party. 

You’ve only been here for an hour and you remember why you didn’t go to parties often. You felt awkward, people you recognized from school were here yet you still felt like an outsider. This was technically your first college party. You stood in a corner of the crowded living room, clutching a red plastic cup filled with cheap beer. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the throngs of people laughing, shouting, and dancing to a throbbing bass beat. You felt a pang of regret for coming here, or maybe it was just the ache in your chest that all of a sudden spiked again. Your soulmate was here. Despite that, you thought it was a mistake to follow your friends and attend this party.

It didn’t take long for Beomgyu to get comfortable, the party scene being a familiar environment for him and his friends. As soon as he set foot into the house, the ache in his chest spiked again but he wasn’t going to let it bother him this time. After a few drinks, he found himself in the middle of a group of girls. He was sitting in the middle of the couch, girls surrounding him trying to get a word in or touch him in some way. Beomgyu smirked, enjoying the attention but his mind was elsewhere. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on you. You were standing in the corner, looking uncomfortable and out of place. Beomgyu’s heart ached at the sight of you, you were beautiful, too beautiful to be alone like that. 

You couldn't stay here. You had no idea where your friends disappeared and your soulmate was here. It was overwhelming to think that someone in this plethora of mostly tipsy people, was your person. Your eyes did another scan of the room, looking for any signs of your friends. Instead of your friends though, your eyes found a boy. He was on the couch, surrounded by a group of beautiful girls vying for his attention. It made sense because he was gorgeous, prettier than anyone you’ve ever seen probably. His gaze shifted to you and you felt weak in the knees. Shaking your head and looking away, you took a deep breath and made your way to the door. 

Beomgyu excused himself from the girls and made his way towards where you were. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, he was nervous but he knew he had to make a move. When he got up though, he saw that you were gone. He panicked for a moment, realizing that he might have missed his opportunity. However, he quickly regained his composure, telling himself that he wouldn't let you slip away that easily. Beomgyu maneuvered his way through the crowd, looking around the room frantically for any sign of you, but you were nowhere to be found. The ache in his chest settled, but now it was replaced by his heart pounding, full of disappointment. 

You got back to your apartment not too long after you left the party, quickly texting your friends and telling them that you went home. The ache dissipated as soon as you stepped out of the house. Your soulmate was at that party, but all you could think about was the boy you locked eyes with.

Days passed and you still couldn't get the boy from the party out of your head. His image kept flashing before your eyes, making it hard to focus. You weren't sure what it was about him that had you so captivated. Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to light up when they met yours or the way he carried himself with an air of confidence that made you weak in the knees. Whatever it was, you wanted to see him again. The concert is tomorrow and the label called you earlier today, inviting you to come. You already made up your mind though, way before they called. 

Beomgyu couldn’t get you out of his mind. Even after he went back to his group of girls at the party, you were all he could think about. Days had passed since the party and he tried looking for you on campus. He was completely distracted, even messing up during rehearsal for their concert tomorrow. As he walked back to his dorm room, Beomgyu couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment. He was sure he missed his chance with you, and he knew he couldn't let that happen again. He needed to see you again. Maybe you’ll be there tomorrow. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. This was unfamiliar to him, usually he was the one being sought after and he let girls come to him. Not the other way around. But you, something was pulling him to you, something inside him was saying  "Go talk to her."

The next night came and Beomgyu was determined to perform his heart out. He knew it was a long shot that you would be there, so he tried to focus solely on the performance. As soon as the band started playing, Beomgyu felt a wave of emotion come over him. It was like his heart was speaking through the music, telling a story of longing and desire. He sang with all his heart, every note ringing true. The song Lyric wrote couldn't be more perfect, and Taehyun and Kai were feeding off of Beomgyu's and the crowd's energy. The crowd went wild, cheering loudly, and were full of awe at the lyrics of their new single. But amidst all the noise and excitement, Beomgyu's eyes were searching the crowd for you. You were nowhere to be found and his heart sank, but only for a split second. The lights were flashing, the crowd was still screaming and he felt alive. The audience yelled their approval and the show was over before they knew it. 

Beomgyu walked off stage after Kai and Taehyun, feeling a complete rush of adrenaline. As he walked backstage, he couldn't help but scan the crowd again, hoping for a glimpse of you. However, you were still nowhere to be found. Beomgyu's heart sank once more, but he knew he had to keep it together. He couldn't let his disappointment show, especially in front of his fans. After the concert, they were all signing autographs and taking pictures, flirting around to see who they'd take back to their dressing rooms. Beomgyu tried his best to keep his cool, sexy rockstar image up, but he didn't feel like taking some random girl back this time. His heart just wasn't in it. He sent a quick look to Taehyun and Kai, who looked at him surprised but still nodded back, and he left without another word, leaving the girls who were killing for their chance with him confused. 

The song you wrote for them became a huge hit and the label called you again, wanting you to write another one for them. You couldn’t deny how much your heart skipped a beat when they said the members were requesting it personally. You told the label that you would love to, however after you agreed to one more song, their request quickly changed from one to enough songs for a full-length album. They didn’t let you respond before they hung up on you, your mouth still hanging open in shock. Sighing you closed your eyes, trying not to panic because you knew you had more than enough lyrics written, but they were just that- lyrics.

Opening your eyes, you went to your room, retrieved your laptop, and looked up the band. You thought you should at least know their names and what they looked like if you were going to be writing their next album. You also wanted to hear what the final, produced version of your song sounded like. You looked up their band name and the title of your song first, playing the audio version. Your eyes widened at the sound of a deep, smooth voice starting the song, goosebumps forming along your arm. You assumed this was the lead singer, his voice sending shivers down your spine as the song continued. When it came to an end, you were left in awe, they did your words justice and you felt proud. Shaking yourself out of it, you looked up the band name next and their group picture made your heart stop. There he was, right in the middle of the trio, the boy from the party. Pictures didn’t do him justice, you concluded. The more pictures of them you went through, you found yourself looking at him more than the other two. Not on purpose, your eyes just naturally gravitating to him. Your heart was racing again like the night you saw him for the first time.

However, the ache in your chest suddenly reminded you of your soulmate and you went from feeling awestruck to guilty in mere seconds. Was it possible to feel attraction to someone that wasn’t your soulmate? Or maybe he was your soulmate… You didn’t know and you were confusing yourself. 

Shaking your head to snap out of it, you clicked through a few links. The members' names were Kai (whom you already met by chance), Taheyun, and Beomgyu. Kai played drums and sometimes sang, Taehyun played the keyboard and sang, and Beomgyu played guitar and was the lead singer. You couldn't help but feel drawn to Beomgyu. You chastised yourself for even thinking about him this much. You had a soulmate, for crying out loud. You closed your laptop and lay back on your bed, trying to clear your head. But every time you closed your eyes, you saw Beomgyu's face and heard his voice singing your words.

Beomgyu was still feeling the adrenaline from the show last night even though it's morning now. It felt like an eternity since he stepped off stage yet he could still remember every moment in perfect detail - every reaction from the crowd, every part of himself he gave in each song. The label was pleased with the reaction to the new single and said they were thinking about making Lyric the official new songwriter. Beomgyu couldn't believe it. He knew that they had something special with the song Lyric wrote, but for the label to consider bringing her on as their official new songwriter was a dream come true. He knew he had to meet her, to thank her personally for the magic she brought back to their music. His mind then shifted from Lyric to you. He wished you showed up last night. He was all over the place, he felt drawn to both you and Lyric, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to do. 

The semester ended not long after, and you and Beomgyu welcomed the reprieve. During the break, you composed songs for the band's next album, communicating with the label only through your alias "Lyric" and over the phone. The label was awestruck with your gift and offered you a job to be the band's official songwriter in exchange. You accepted without hesitation since this was practically your wish come true. And so that's how you secured a permanent job, all the while hoping your second semester wouldn't be as hectic as the first. 

Beomgyu spent his break trying to clear his head. He couldn't stop thinking about you and Lyric. It was like he was being pulled in two different directions, each one equally tempting. He couldn't decide who he was more drawn to, and he was starting to feel guilty about it. He had never felt this way before. He was a rockstar, he was confident and in control. But now, he felt lost and confused. They had two shows over the break and he found solace in the usual flashing lights and screaming fans. But it didn't last too long.

He and his friends also started recording the songs for their new album, most of them being written and composed by Lyric. Beomgyu couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement every time Lyric's words were sung. They were all so raw and emotional, and they fit the band's style perfectly. They fit him perfectly, and it never failed to surprise him, how understood he felt. He found himself constantly thinking about her, wondering who she was and what she looked like. He wanted to tell her how much the songs meant to him, how they made him feel alive and understood. But he couldn't. He didn't even know who she was.

When you arrived on campus the following Monday, it marked the beginning of the second semester.  You didn’t expect to see Beomgyu sitting under a tree by the lake with his guitar. You went the entire first semester without seeing him once. 

“What was he doing here so early?” you thought to yourself, watching the way his fingers gently strummed at the guitar. You couldn't help but smile at the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings. He was so focused, and so passionate, and it was beautiful to watch. You couldn't bring yourself to go over there like you originally planned, so instead, you decided to leave him be and simply admire him from afar for a little before leaving. While walking back to the main area of the campus, the warm feeling was still present from your dream, so you brought your mind back to your soulmate. The dreams still occur every night and from what you can remember from last night, your soulmate has been feeling a mixture of things. Most of all though, he was confused, just like you.

As the week went by, you couldn't help but think about Beomgyu. You've been seeing him more on campus lately, in the library, in the cafeteria, in between classes. He was either with his bandmates or surrounded by girls, and an obnoxious smirk took over his pretty face most of the time. You tried to push him out of your mind, but it was like he was always there, lurking in the back of your thoughts.``It's just because he's so pretty." You kept trying to remind yourself, also recalling the one time you heard him open his mouth, his words making your eyes roll. You had a soulmate, and that was all that mattered. Your soulmate was perfect to you, perfect for you, and he wasn't an obnoxious rockstar who thought he was better than everyone. 

You tried to avoid him as much as possible, but fate seemed to have other plans. One day, while walking to your next class, you accidentally bumped into him, your lyrics and sheet music flying out of your hands and scattering across the hallway. 

"I'm so sorry," you said, bending down to pick up your things.

"It's fine," Beomgyu said softly, crouching down to help you. As your hands brushed briefly while reaching for the same paper, a spark went off and that warmth spread throughout your entire body, you looked up at him, surprised. He didn't give you a single look though, but even that didn't diminish your surprise.

At that moment, you knew. You found him. Beomgyu was your soulmate. 

You tried to shake off the feeling to remain calm and gather your papers, but Beomgyu’s touch lingered on your hand, sending shivers down your spine. You looked up at him again, and he met your gaze this time. You could see the surprise and confusion in his eyes as well. 

“Do you feel that?” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the noise in the hallway. 

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew exactly what he was talking about. The warmth, the spark, the connection. It was unmistakable.

"I've been looking for you," he admitted, his eyes not leaving yours.

When he finally acknowledged you, his eyes were full of surprise. It was you, the beautiful girl from the party, the one he couldn’t get out of his head. His world felt like it finally aligned again, the warmth he would feel every morning, was present now while he was in front of you. The mark on his arm tingled, as if reminding him that it was there. He looked at the papers he picked up for you, “(y/n)” he read to himself, “so that was your name.” He then remembered that the mark on his arm was of a pen. 

"Wait, are you a composer?" He asked, eyes widening in realization. 

You couldn't believe what was happening. Beomgyu was your soulmate? The obnoxious rockstar who you'd been trying to avoid since the semester started, was the one you were meant to be with? It didn't make any sense. But as you looked into his eyes, you knew it was true. The way he looked at you, the way he touched your hand, it was all too real. And it felt right. The connection between you was too strong to ignore. But you can’t do this right now. Instead of answering him, you hurriedly took your papers from him and walked off in the opposite direction, not giving him a chance to say anything else.

 You found yourself in a space between two buildings outside. Your heart was racing, and you couldn’t breathe. After you calmed down, you closed your eyes, your head leaning back and gently hitting the wall. You were mad at yourself first of all. Mad for judging him without even talking to him. You knew your soulmate, but you didn’t know Beomgyu. You thought you didn't want to know Beomgyu. But now you did. And it scared you. You didn't know how to handle it. It was like everything you thought you knew was turned upside down. You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, knowing that you had to face him eventually. You couldn't ignore your soulmate. You couldn’t stay on campus right now either, so you blew off your classes and went back to your apartment. 

Beomgyu stood there, shocked. You ran away from him. His shock was replaced by confusion and then by longing — a need to figure out what everything meant. You clearly knew something based on your reaction, but he didn’t know much. What he did know was that he liked how he felt with you, like it was comfortable and exciting all at once. He liked the way his heart raced when he looked into your eyes, the way his skin tingled when he touched your hand, the way everything just clicked into place. Instead of classes, he went back to his dorm, he wasn’t going to get anything out of you right now so he had to do some research of his own.

As you walked into your apartment, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. You needed to clear your head and figure out what to do next. It also wasn't fair to leave Beomgyu hanging like that, he probably had a lot of questions. You sat down on your bed and closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It was all too much to process, and you needed to sort everything out. You remembered the different types of soul links your mom told you about, trying to piece together everything that linked you and Beomgyu. You couldn’t do this by yourself, you needed him. You always needed someone like him, but right now, you needed him because you both had to put this together. 

When Beomgyu got to his dorm, he went to his room and took out his laptop. He started to research all the things he’s been feeling and the mark on his arm. He came to the conclusion that he had a soulmate. You. You were his soulmate and you had to have known that. He was one of the very few to have a soulmate and he found you. He couldn't believe it. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. But then he realized that you ran away from him earlier. He didn't know why, but he knew he had to find you. He needed you, he felt as if he always needed you, but right now, you two needed to talk. 

That night you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You tossed and turned in bed, trying to quell the butterflies that seemed to be dancing in your stomach. You knew all about him, and he probably didn’t know a thing about you, not even your name. Did he get the same ache in his chest you did? Did it turn into that warm feeling when he woke up too? Did he have dreams like you?  If he’s your soulmate, what was he so distressed about that one time? All these questions and more swirled around in your head. One thing you knew for sure though, you wanted to be there for him, always.

He couldn't stop thinking about you either. He wanted to know everything about you, your hopes, your dreams. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh when you were feeling down, the one to hold you close when you were feeling alone. He wanted to be there for you, always. That was the one thing he was sure about amidst all the confusion. 

You woke up early the next morning, not having slept much to begin with. You stretched out your arms, feeling a satisfying ache course through your body. You didn't have a dream last night, which you expected, but it didn't stop you from waking up feeling warm and fuzzy inside. The first coherent thing on your mind was Beomgyu. You needed to see him today, no matter what. Even though you had no classes today, you were still going to campus to look for him. You knew exactly where to go. You just hoped he had the same idea. 

Beomgyu woke up early the next morning. He stretched his arms wide, letting out a yawn that reverberated through his chest. Placing a hand on his heart, he recalled yesterday's events, a smile blooming across his face at the thought of you. You were all he could think about now and he needed to see you again. Despite having just one class today, something pulled him towards the lake this morning. The scent of fresh dew coated the grass beneath his feet as he walked down the dirt path, still quiet in these early morning hours. Birds chirped overhead as he approached the sparkling waters of the lake. The surface rippled gently in tune with the slight breeze. A sense of calm washed over him as he took in the beauty before him, he took his place under the big tree he always sat under and started to strum at his guitar. 

As you walked towards the lake, you could hear the sound of a guitar in the distance. You smiled to yourself, knowing that it was Beomgyu. You could see him sitting under the big tree by the lake, strumming. Beomgyu noticed you and paused his playing, looking up at you with a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as his eyes met yours, the same way they did at the party. You quickly looked down, feeling a blush creeping up on your cheeks. Beomgyu cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

 "Good morning," he said, his voice smooth and deep, sending shivers down your spine. 

You looked up at him and smiled.

 "Good morning," you replied softly. 

"What are you doing here so early?" 

Beomgyu chuckled, closing his guitar case. 

"I come here sometimes to practice," he said, standing up.

 "It's peaceful here, isn't it?"

 You nodded. You felt comfortable around Beomgyu.

"I agree," you said softly.

 "It's my favorite place on campus."

“Mine too.” 

"Beomgyu," you said softly, your heart racing and you squeezed your eyes shut. "Can we talk?" 

As you stood there, waiting for his response, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes and saw Beomgyu standing in front of you. 

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. "I didn't mean to scare you off."

You looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions. 

"No, I'm sorry for running away earlier. I just needed some time to process everything."

"It's okay," he said quickly. 

"I understand. I've been doing some research myself, and I think I know what's going on."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. You weren't alone in this.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"I think we're soulmates," he said simply, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You couldn’t help but smile too. You were glad he figured it out. You reached out to gently grasp his hand and intertwine your fingers, sparks shooting up your arm more intense than yesterday. 

“We are.” You confirmed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Beomgyu's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden sparks that shot up his arm. He felt a jolt of electricity run through his body as he looked into your eyes. He had never felt such a strong connection with anyone before. It was like you were meant to be together.

"I can't believe it," he whispered, pulling you closer to him. "We're soulmates."

You felt a rush of electricity through your body at his touch. You had never felt so safe and secure with anyone before. It was like everything in your life finally made sense. You leaned into him, feeling his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace.

"I've been dreaming about you," you admitted, feeling a sense of embarrassment wash over you.

Beomgyu pulled back slightly, looking at you with a gentle smile. He held out his arm to you, and a small gasp left your lips. On his arm was a small mark, it was shaped like a pen. 

“Can you see it?” He asked, “When I showed my friends my arm, they couldn’t see anything.” He continued and chuckled softly. 

“They thought I was crazy and had some sort of sixth sense or something.”

“I can see it.” You reached out to touch the pen mark on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. 

Beomgyu shuddered at your touch, feeling the sparks fly between you. You felt them too, and you knew that this was real, that he was the one for you. 

“You probably have a lot of questions,” you said and looked up at him, letting your fingers trail down his arm to take his hand in yours again. 

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes fixed on you. He had so many questions he wanted to ask you, but at that moment, all he wanted was to be close to you, to hold you in his arms, and never let go. 

"I do," he said softly, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. "But right now, all I want is to be with you. Is that okay?"

You smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell with affection. 

"It's more than okay," you said, leaning into him. "I want to be with you too."

Beomgyu's eyes sparkled with happiness at your words. He felt like he was on top of the world, with you by his side.

"Let's go for a walk," he said, taking your hand and leading you down the dirt path that ran alongside the lake.

You walked hand in hand, enjoying the quietness of the morning. Birds chirped overhead, and the sun began to rise, casting a golden glow over everything in sight. You felt the warmth of Beomgyu's hand in yours, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment.

As you walked, Beomgyu told you all about the research he had done on soulmates the night before. He had read countless books and articles, trying to understand the strange things he was experiencing. You listened intently, fascinated by the depth of his knowledge on the subject and by him in general. You answered any questions he had and told him all about your parents. You two realized the depth of your bond. You shared talents, he was the reason you could play guitar and you were the reason he could sing. The dreams, after you met Kai and he mentioned the two of you to each other vaguely, it was like a bridge. Every night since then, Beomgyu visited you in your dreams, where you got to learn about him. Now he knows why he would wake up feeling like he just came back from somewhere. The mark appeared on his arm the same day you woke up from having your first dream. The pen was because you were a songwriter and only him and his soulmate, you, could see it.

"So what do we do now?" you asked, stopping to take in the view of the lake. 

The water shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the beauty of the world around you.

"I think we should just take it one day at a time," Beomgyu said, standing beside you.

"We don't need to rush anything. We have all the time in the world."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You didn't want to rush anything either. You just wanted to enjoy this moment, to be with Beomgyu and feel the sparks between you.

As you walked along the lake, hand in hand, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special. You had found your soulmate, and you were going to do everything in your power to keep him close.

"Thank you for being here with me," you said softly, looking up at him. "I'm happy I found you."

Beomgyu's eyes softened, and he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You felt the warmth of his lips, and your heart swelled with adoration.

"I'll always be here," he said, pulling you close. "No matter what. You're kind of stuck with me now," he added and both of you giggled softly. 

Your hand was still in his, and you didn't want to let go. You never wanted to let go. 

“You have a class you said?” you asked him.

He nodded. “ It’s the last thing on my mind though,” he said and gently nudged your shoulder. 

You blushed and giggled at him again, "Can I walk you to your class?" 

"Of course, you can," Beomgyu replied, smiling down at you. "I'd love that."

Together, you made your way to the music department, taking your time as you walked hand in hand. You couldn't help but feel happy and content, knowing that you had Beomgyu by your side.

 As you walked him to his class, he couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment. He knew that he was going to cherish every moment he had with you.

You reached Beomgyu's classroom after some time, and you stopped outside the door and turned to face him. 

"I'll see you soon," he said, before turning and entering the classroom.

You stood outside the door, watching as he disappeared inside. You couldn't help but feel excited about what the future held for the two of you. You knew that you were meant to be together, and you couldn't wait to see what adventures lay ahead. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned back to see Beomgyu standing in front of you, a small smile on his lips.

"I almost forgot something," he said,

You felt his hand on your back, bringing you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you into a hug. It was innocent, just a hug, but you felt like you were floating on air. When you pulled back, Beomgyu placed a hand on your cheek, looking into your eyes.

"I'll see you soon," he said again, before turning to enter the classroom. You watched him go, feeling your heart flutter. You stood there for a few moments more, just taking in the moment before you finally turned and started walking home.

It had been a few months since that day, but the memory still stayed with you in your mind often. You and Beomgyu had grown so much closer over those months, learning more about each other every day. You both spent more time together - going for walks in the park, exploring new places, or just cuddling up under a blanket watching movies at his dorm. He was your best friend now, your other half, the love of your life and he made every day brighter. Every time you were together, it felt like magic – like all of your dreams were coming true. You both shared something special that could never be broken: your souls connected by music and love.

One day, as you sat in Beomgyu's dorm room, strumming his guitar while he sang along softly, you looked up at him and thought about how lucky you were to have found him. He was everything you had ever wanted in a person and more. You couldn't imagine your life without him. There was something you still haven't told him though. You were struggling to tell Beomgyu that you were Lyric, the songwriter his band was always praising. Every time he and the others talked about her, you could feel your heart flutter. You wanted to tell him but something held you back; all the songs you wrote for them had been about him or inspired by him and you wanted to tell him that was why he felt so understood. 

You took a deep breath, setting the guitar aside as you turned to face him. Beomgyu looked at you curiously, his eyes shining.

"What's going on?" he asked, sitting up slightly.

You took another deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was something you had been meaning to tell him for a while, but you had always chickened out at the last minute. But now, with him looking at you with so much love and trust, you knew that it was finally time to tell him the truth.

"Beomgyu," you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you."

Beomgyu's gaze intensified, and he reached out to take your hand in his. You felt his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin, and you took that as a sign to continue.

“I’m Lyric,” you mumbled almost inaudibly. 

Beomgyu's eyes widened in surprise, and he sat up straighter, looking at you in awe.

"Lyric?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. You could feel butterflies swirling in your stomach, and you wondered what Beomgyu was thinking. Would he be mad that you hadn't told him earlier? Would he be disappointed that it was you?

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly, his voice gentle.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. 

"I didn't know how to," you admitted. "I was afraid you'd be disappointed that it was me and not some princess with magic songwriting powers or something."

Beomgyu's expression softened, and he squeezed your hand.

"I think it's incredible. I think you're incredible. You have such a gift, and I can't believe you've been writing songs for me this whole time."

You blushed. "I entered the contest and had no idea what to write. Not until I had that first dream. All my songs were written and inspired by my soulmate, which I now know is you.." you trailed off, hiding your face behind your hands. 

Beomgyu chuckled, pulling your hands away from your face gently. "Why are you hiding? You have nothing to be ashamed of. I think it's amazing that you found inspiration in me, and I'm honored that you wrote those songs for our band. We couldn't have gotten this far now without you."

You looked up at him, feeling tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "I'm just so relieved that you're not mad," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Beomgyu leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I could never be mad at you, my love. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I feel so lucky to have you in my life."

"And for the record, you are a princess with magic songwriting powers," he added and you playfully pushed him. 

"And another thing, I wouldn't be who I am today without you either." He said while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love for the boy in front of you.

"I never thought I'd find someone like you," you said quietly, your eyes locked with his.

Beomgyu's lips curved into a smile. "Well, you've found me now, and I'm not going anywhere."

You leaned in to kiss him but were interrupted by a knock at the door. Beomgyu groaned in frustration, but you both knew he had to answer it. As he got up to go to the door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. You were finally about to kiss him, and now you had to wait. This was another thing, every time you and Beomgyu were going to kiss, something got in the way. Every single time.

Beomgyu opened the door, and in walked another member of his band - Kai. You smiled when he walked in, him being you and Beomgyu’s biggest shipper. You got up from the bed, clearing your throat to get his attention.

"Hi, Kai," you said sweetly.

"Hey," he replied animatedly, before turning to Beomgyu. "We've got a meeting with the label in an hour. We need to start getting ready."

Beomgyu sighed, knowing that he had to go. He turned to you, a look of apology on his face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I have to go," he said, his hand reaching out to grab yours.

You nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over you. "It's okay, Beomie. You have to go do what you have to do." 

You got up from his bed and kissed him on the cheek, Kai holding his hand up for a high five which you granted. You said bye to Taehyun who was in the lounge area of their dorm and went back to your apartment. When you arrived at your apartment, you decided to take a hot shower to relax. Shower thoughts flooded your brain as you stood under the steamy water. You realize Beomgyu has never been to your apartment before, all the time you guys have spent with each other has either been at his dorm or out somewhere. 

The thought of Beomgyu coming to your apartment made you feel nervous and excited at the same time. You could imagine him sitting on your couch, the two of you cuddled up under a blanket, just like you always did at his dorm. However, here there would be no interruptions. But then again, what if he didn't like your apartment? 

You shook your head, trying to get rid of those negative thoughts. You knew Beomgyu wouldn't judge you like that, and even if he did, it wouldn't change how he felt about you. You dried yourself off and got dressed, feeling a sense of excitement building up inside you.

You decided to call Beomgyu to see if he was free to come over. He picked up after the first ring, and you could hear the sound of music playing in the background.

"Hey, Beomie," you greeted him, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Are you busy?"

Beomgyu chuckled on the other end of the line. "Just practicing with the band, why? What's up?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place. Maybe tomorrow night? I know we've never hung out at my apartment before, and I thought it could be fun," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could hear muffled talking in the background. Finally, Beomgyu spoke up.

"Yeah, I'd love to princess. You can give me a tour of your place and everything," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face.

You felt your heart skip a beat. Beomgyu was actually coming over to your place. 

"I can practically hear you smirking, pretty boy. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Beomgyu chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. I just can't wait to see your place." His voice dropped down to a low murmur. "And maybe see what other surprises you have in store for me."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. "Beomie, don't be naughty," you scolded him, but you couldn't deny the thrill that ran down your spine at the thought of spending the night with him alone in your apartment.

"I can't make any promises," he replied, his voice low and sultry. "But I'll behave if you want me to."

You laughed, feeling your nerves calm down a little. "No, it's okay. I like it when you're naughty. Besides, you're still handsy even when you claim you're behaving."

Beomgyu chuckled, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "I can't help it. You bring out the naughty side in me," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I can't wait, princess," he replied, before ending the call.

The next day, you spent the day cleaning and preparing for Beomgyu's arrival. You wanted everything to be perfect for him.

When he finally arrived at your apartment, you couldn't help but feel nervous. He smiled as soon as you opened the door, making you feel at ease.

"Hey, princess," he said, pulling you into a tight hug. "You look beautiful."

You blushed, feeling a surge of happiness wash over you. "Thanks, Beomie. You look handsome as always," you replied.

"Wow, your apartment is amazing!" Beomgyu exclaimed, looking around in awe. "You never told me you had such good taste."

You giggled. “You don’t think it’s a bit..much?” 

"Not at all," Beomgyu replied, walking over to you and taking your hand. "It's just like you, beautiful and perfect."

You blushed and looked away, feeling a little embarrassed at his words.

Beomgyu chuckled and lifted your chin, looking into your eyes. "Don't be shy, (y/n). You should know by now how much I adore you."

You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding you. "I do, Beomie. I adore you just as much." 

"Why are you blushing? Is it cause we're finally alone with no interruptions?" he asked and playfully nudged you. 

You blushed even harder at his words, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had been waiting for this moment, and now that it was finally here, you didn't know what to do. You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. 

"Maybe," you said, a smile spreading across your face.

Beomgyu stepped closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Well, I have a surprise for you too," he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. "What is it?" you asked, turning to face him.

Beomgyu grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He looked around the living room once more, “Why don’t you give me the tour of your place first?” He whispered and put his arm around you. You leaned into his touch, resting your cheek on his shoulder. 

“The music room is probably my favorite, I spend most of my time in there or on the balcony,” you said softly while tracing the veins along his free arm. You heard him let out a small sigh at the feeling of your touch.

“Then take me to the music room, princess. That’s where the magic happens right?” He said, lips turning upward into a smirk.

“Okay, Beomie.” You took his hand in yours and gently pulled him along, leading him to where the music room is. You led him down a hallway, stopping at one of many doors. You opened it, the familiar squeak of the hinges filling your senses with joy and you smiled up at him proudly. He stepped inside and took a look around the room you practically lived in, carefully examining each instrument on display with awe. Your heart pounded as he walked by every instrument in the room, this room was like your pride and joy. You hoped he was impressed by it. 

As Beomgyu continued to look around the music room, you couldn't help but feel proud of yourself. You had worked hard to make this space your own, and it was clear that Beomgyu was impressed. You watched as he picked up your guitar, strumming a few chords before setting it back down.

"You're so talented, (y/n)," Beomgyu said, turning to face you and leaning against one of the walls. 

"I had no idea you could play so many instruments. You're amazing."

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks at his compliments. 

He pushed himself off from against the wall and took a seat on one of the cushioned benches, motioning for you to come over. You obliged and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to sit in his lap. 

“Now can I listen to the songs you've been working on for the band? Or are you still trying to be sneaky and keep it hidden from me?” 

“Mm, it's not finished though.” You said and wrapped your arms around his neck after being pulled into his lap.

He tightened his hold on your hips and smiled at you. “Well, I’d still rather listen to an unfinished song than nothing at all. Or are you just hiding something from me?” his smile turned into a small smirk. 

“And why would I hide anything from you, Beomie?” You whispered softly and looked up to meet his eyes. 

He leaned down slightly, his mouth coming close to your ear, “Maybe cause you want me to beg a little…” He whispered and let his lips linger by your neck for a little before pulling away. 

“And maybe, just maybe…” he started again, taking his hand and tracing the curve of your neck. 

“You think it's cute? Watching me beg..” 

“And why would I make you beg me? Hm?” Your voice stayed in a whisper, and you cupped one of his cheeks. 

He looked you in the eyes and grinned. 

“Why would you make me beg, you ask? I don’t know… you know how I feel about you-“ he paused when he felt your hand touch his cheek. 

“But who knows what you can get out of me.” He smirked and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

 “Maybe you can make me beg for a kiss… or a little more.”  

The touch of his lips to your cheek was enough to light your whole body on fire.  

You shuddered lightly and moved his hair away from his face. “And what kind of person would I be if I made my soulmate beg, hm?” You asked softly. 

He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as you lightly brushed his hair out of his face. This time, you leaned forward and lightly touched your lips to the corner of his. Not kissing him properly yet. 

He let out a soft gasp and you watched as his lips parted slightly in shock, not expecting you to lean in. His breath got caught in his throat and he kept his gaze locked onto yours. His hands moved down from your hips to your thighs, fingers lightly digging into them, the heat of the moment getting to both of you right now. 

“Beom?” You whispered, eyes flicking down to his lips. 

His heart skips a beat at the soft sound of your voice.  

“Yes (y/n)?” He whispered back, face now flushed and his eyes trailed downward, gaze now glued onto your lips too. 

“Kiss me, please.” 

He stared at you for a second, processing what you just asked. The slight shock wearing off was replaced by desirousness, and he grinned.

“With pleasure, princess.”

He leaned in while pulling you closer to him and connected your lips, finally. His eyes closed right before your lips touched, his heart hammering against his chest. The moment the gap closed between you, your eyes fluttered closed, already lost in the moment. Your arms around his neck pulled him closer, as close as he could get to you.  You felt his hands trail up and down your sides, settling on your thighs once again. Your lips parted slightly, you taking the opportunity to gently bite his lower lip, bringing them back together with yours, not wanting this to end just yet. 

Beomgyu's lips were soft but demanding, and they made your heart race. You felt the heat between you grow as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You granted it, allowing him to explore your mouth until you both needed to come up for air. He pulled away from you, but only enough to look into your eyes. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath on your lips. You felt his fingers trailing up and down your thighs and his grip on them tightening.

 “God, I want you (y/n),” he breathed out. 

  You leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency. You could feel his reaction instantly as he groaned into the kiss and his grip on your thighs tightened even more. You moved your hands from around his neck to run them through his hair, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss even more. It wasn't long before the heat between you both became unbearable and you broke the kiss, feeling breathless. You looked at each other for a moment, both of you panting slightly. 

“I want you too,” you whispered, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other trailed down his chest.

Beomgyu took in a sharp breath as your hand continued to trail down his chest. His heart sped up and his mouth hung slightly open.

“Let's take this to your room," He whispered. 

You nodded quickly and told him your room was the last door to the right. He lifted you up in his arms and stood up from the bench, moving quickly out of the music room with you cradled safely in his arms. Once you were both in your room, he gently laid you down on the bed. You looked up at him as he hovered above you, the desire in his eyes captivating yours and making your heart race even faster. 

“Are you ready for my surprise now?” He asked, his voice soft and full of want.

You nodded at him quickly and wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down and gave you a light kiss. He slowly trailed down your jaw and reached the sensitive spot behind your ear. His breath tickled and sent shivers down your spine.

You lay next to him, slightly out of breath after what just happened, and felt him press a kiss to your cheek. 

“Surprise,” he said teasingly.

You rolled your eyes but giggled softly and your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him. You sat up and picked up the shirt he was wearing earlier, slipping it over your head, the scent of him now enveloping all your senses. 

"Was that really your surprise?" you asked him shyly. 

Beomgyu had moved his head to rest on the pillow, facing you sideways, and propped up on his elbow.

He laughed at your shared bashfulness despite what you just did together, and kissed your forehead, “it was,”

He blushed and looked away from you for a quick moment, not used to this level of affection and intimacy. He looked back at you when you rested your head on your own pillow.

 “This is my favorite thing to do,” he whispered, laying down properly and pulling you to his chest.

“Spending the day with you.” 

Your heart sped up, from what he said, but also from the way you were currently pressed against him with your head resting against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you close. 

“I can hear your heartbeat,” you murmured, your eyes closing more with every word. 

He smiled lovingly at you.

“Yeah? What does it sound like?” 

“Like mine.”

Main Masterlist

Beomgyu Masterlist

a/n: and that’s the end! I absolutely adore soulmate aus and Beomgyu, and I’ve always wanted to try and write one of my own. I hope you enjoyed it, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#✎˖ᝰbeomgyucoded✧˖° #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu imagines #txt beomgyu #txt x reader #beomgyu fluff #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together Beomgyu #txt soulmate aus #⇢ ˗ˏˋ beomgyu 🧸 ࿐ྂ

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 1)

In which Isekai!Reader becomes a merchant, and unintentionally Link's benefactor.

Even more self-indulgent trash. The usual.

PART: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Nothing worth mentioning.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Being transported into a video game was not as dramatic as the media had led you to believe. For one, there was no bright, all encompassing light nor the feeling of a thousand worlds ripping themselves asunder. Instead, you had taken one step out of your door and crossed the threshold into an endless field of tall grass.

Panic should have taken hold by that point, but it didn't. You'd later learn it was just postponed by the shock of it all. At the time though, you'd simply taken stock of the situation, scanned the horizon for civilization and started in on the first plumes of smoke you found in the distance.

You'd been lucky. So incredibly lucky it had been a village that you'd landed near and not something more sinister. That you had decided against going near the waterfall or towards the forested area where a clear path was etched into the hillside.

You hadn't known that yet though. Instead, you'd taken the most direct route and hiked up the steep grassy slope heading towards the plumes.

Near the top you'd taken a short break beside an apple tree, admiring the perfect shape of the fruit hidden throughout it's low hanging branches. How large they were, and how brightly colored.

You'd taken one, struggling to pull it from it's stem. You were surprised by just how heavy it was when it finally did give way; more akin to holding a watermelon than an apple and as large as a grapefruit.

It was strange, but you figured it was just a variety of apple you were not familiar with, or perhaps you were heading towards a farm that was working on a new type of apple for the market.

You decided to save this one for later, in case the place you were heading didn't have resturants or take card payments. The surrounding land looked pretty rural, so you wouldn't be all that surprised if they didn't.

As soon as you'd thought it though, the apple disappeared. No light or sound or anything to indicate the unnatural occurrence, just popped out of existence.

It should have startled you, and it did, but you didn't panic. Not yet. That would come later. Right then, it was almost like you were dreaming.

In the top left corner of your vision a flicker of red came into existence. A simple line of words ended in an explanation point that pinged at your subconscious.

[New Item!]

And you'd thought, 'What a strange dream.'

---

Four years later, and you knew this was most certainly not a dream. The panic had passed, the initial pain of loss and separation had eased. The confusion of a new language and culture had settled into smooth integration.

The easy acceptance of the Hateno people helped a great deal with that.

Honestly, it helped that the population was as small as it was. While some cultures would shun outsiders upon contact, the scarcity of new blood had made your arrival quite the welcome event. Even if you were a human.

Perhaps even because you were a human. It was hard to tell sometimes. Your round ears were equal parts admired and awkwardly avoided in polite conversation.

You tried not to think about it too much.

The bottom line was that you had been transmigrated into Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. Your head now contained the equivalent of the Sheikah slate and the differences in product quality here and your world was, to put it frankly, wacked. The metabolism and durability of the region's residents was even more so.

The apple you had picked up the first day had lasted you two days. Each bite was equivalent to eating two apples. Eating a whole apple was enough to make you sick. You'd watched a hyrulian child munch down three of them with no issues, and then ask for dinner.

Your conclusion; Magic. Hyrule was very similar to your own world, but the addition of magic had fundamentally altered the biological makeup of it's inhabitants.

It wasn't a difficult conclusion to come to. Hell, one of the farmers had even given you a brief rundown on the magic quality in the soil once, explaining the emergence of Hearty foodstuffs. It was an eye opener for sure, though a welcome one.

However, things got complicated in your case. The addition of gamer like attributes seemed to alter the world around you to an alarming degree. Nothing too noticeable thankfully, but still noteworthy.

Things you picked or put in your inventory had a way of coming back within a few days. This, you'd learned, was not the norm. A harvested field stayed harvested until it was replanted. A picked apple stayed gone until a new one grew from another bud.

Things did not just reappear after enough time away from them. Hyrule did not have that type of magic, though it would seem you did. Which, honestly, was fine by you. It helped you make a living at the beginning.

Food, you found, was a precious commodity. The game made it seem easily accessible, but in reality it was a hit or miss depending on the season. Late spring through early fall was bountiful, but the rest of the year was downright miserable.

People here lived on what could be grown locally. When things stopped growing, people started struggling.

Not to say most residents starved, but the cost of a bale of wheat went up drastically in the winter. Nevermind the cost of fresh fruit, meat or anything not pickled or preserved.

The game never showed this side to Hyrule. The part where these magical people with their high metabolisms suffered during the lean winter months. How they worked and saved all year just to break even through the cold season.

Winter might have been the time of hardship, but it was your golden goose. It was how you made a living, how you came out ahead.

Anything stored within your mindslate stayed perfectly preserved, untouched by time nor the effects of decomposition. And added to your unusual effect on the world, it allowed you to amass a literal shit ton of resources.

At first you'd make daily trips around the village gathering enough materials to ensure a place at the inn every night. Anything would do. Wheat, crickets, apples, the occasional fish, even fairies.

(Strange that one, how your mindslate just stored living beings like that. They were the one thing you didn't mess with. Just let them sit in there, as far from your mind as possible.)

You cut grass with your rusty sword, hacked down small trees with your equally cheap and rusted ax, roamed the nearby woods for mushrooms, beetles or lizards. Occasionally, you'd even find a more unusual item. Like a sword or shield just laying in the grass.

You'd try not to think of how it got there.

You gathered resources for a living, and the shop owners came to know you as the Apple Merchant. It was sweet actually, and it seemed to endear you to some of the residents.

Perhaps they appreciated that you were trying to make a life for yourself among them, not just begging for handouts. Or maybe it was pity for the foreign human who didn't know hyrulian common well. Hard to tell.

When winter came that first year, is when you realized the full breath of your situational advantage.

One year. That's all it took. One year to become one of the wealthiest people in the village.

And they didn't even realize it.

A bundle of carrots purchased cheaply during the height of harvest season sold for five times that amount in the winter. A bundle of wheat, nearly seven. And meat was something else entirely. Rare enough during the warm season, it became worth its weight in gold the moment winter set in and creatures ventured to warmer regions.

Winter was a literal Godsent.

And the next winter was even more profitable. Now armed with the foresight of experience, you planned your life around it. Bought overflow harvest in bulk, bought out traveling merchant's wares without a second glance.

You prepared, and you thrived. Your bare threat clothes became wool, your worn shoes became comfortable soft leather. You bought a horse, then three, a wagon. Hired guard detail.

Became a merchant. The Apple Merchant; written in clear hyrulian script across your wagon.

By the third year, you were in Lurelin, Kakariko, and every stable and small settlement in the southern reaches of Hyrule. Damn near made it to Gerudo too, before the logistics of such a trip set you back.

You made it though, on your forth year. Reaped the benefits of being a well stocked merchant in an inhospitable place like Gerudo desert. Never made it to Gerudo town though, but the outlier villages more than made up for that.

Life was good. It was profitable. You could even say you were happy.

Then it happened in the early spring of the fifth year. The Shiekah towers rose.

It was nothing that should have concerned you. Link had finally awoken from his 100 year slumber as he was meant to, and his story would continue on without you. Your paths would probably never cross. You were just one of the thousand's of merchants making a living all across Hyrule.

You were nobody in the grand scheme of things. You were someone completely removed from the big picture.

Until you weren't.

And it started with a missing apple.

---

Now I return to the shadows to rest.

#link x reader #link x you #isekai reader #botw link