#(i don’t think anyone remembers this guy lol)
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apple-loving-heathen · 2 days ago
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live blogging squid game season 2 continues and oh my god i have no one to scream about episode 3 with on winter break so i’m so excited for this one!! squid game s2e3 spoilers below
-ok gi-hun’s random friend from episode 1 was the LAST person i expected to see again but it makes sense and adds the sang-woo type of personal connection that he had in the last games!
-YAY CAPTAIN PARK IS BACK :)
-curious how 011 soldier (kang girl i can’t remember her name rn) knows the 246 guy and how that will play into things, it’s kind of like what the salesman was talking about with his dad
-the mother and son just makes me think of the squid game challenge show lmao
-why the fuck did that thanos guy get to bring his cross full of pills in? they don’t let you bring anything in?
-trans rep??? in MY squid game??? more likely than you think!!!
-i’m kind of obsessed with the crypto youtuber being an angle of how all these people are going into debt because it’s probably very accurate but it’s also hilarious lol
-when woo-seok asked if anyone got drunk and blabbed and then his face kind of dropped,,,, buddy did YOU get drunk and blab?? be honest
-I CANT FUCKING BELIEVE IN-HO PUT HIMSELF IN THE GAME BUT ALSO NOT?? LIKE YOU FUCKING CHEATER I KNOW YOU WERENT IN RED LIGHT GREEN LIGHT BITCH BUT IM ALSO SO HYPE ABOUT HIM INTERACTING WITH GI-HUN AND LIKE ITS LITERALLY OH IL-NAM AGAIN EXCEPT WERE IN ON IT AND THE MORE MASK OFF IN-HO CONTENT THE BETTER!!! I COULD LITERALLY JUMP OFF MY WALLS ABOUT THIS
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debble-from-deltarun · 27 days ago
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i missed drawing this guy
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finniestoncrane · 1 year ago
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said to my counsellor that i wasnt built for friendship because everyone always eventually just. stops speaking to me and she went “ok why do you think that is?” and then when i finished my dumb sad list she went “ok so maybe you aren’t good at friendship” and i. have never regretted spending £50 more in my life lol
#A RANT IN THE TAGS MY GOD I DIDNT EVEN REALISE I AM WRITING THIS WARNING RETROSPECTIVELY#£50 to feel like never trying to speak to anyone again or forge any connections THANKS RUTH#Ruth remember when I said that every friendship I’ve had I’ve never truly known if it’s a friendship or if it’s one sided#remember when I told you that my friend groups always had people who had a favourite and I was never the favourite#remember when I told you that several friend groups have disbanded but not really they actually just made new spaces without me?#remember that? remember my trauma? remember?#because I DO!!!#I was not born to have friends I don’t think#I can’t even make friends with other autistic people or other weird people or other queer people#I don’t even think I could make friends with a clone of myself#this is so guy wrenchingly isolating lol#like girl what do you want from me? keep everyone at arms length like I used to?#try not to let myself get attached to people in case they decide they don’t want to be close to me anymore?#please it is not great advice Ruth#THE WORAT PART is that I literally was like ‘I don’t message too much because I’m overbearing’#and she asked where the proof was#and all I had was the complete dissolving of any relationship where I tried or tried too hard#so now I’m left in this confusing space of do I message too much or not enough because I have no happy medium#and she knows SHE KNOWS I also have energy issues and executive dysfunction stuff going on#and I know she is just trying to help and get me to think about this stuff#but it was just not the time lmao#finnie shouts into the void
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rosicheeks · 3 months ago
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😬
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binders-and-beanies · 8 months ago
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#sry I need to vent more abt my tattoo pain bc I physically cannot do anything productive rn im completely and totally incapacitated#can’t read anything beyond short posts or texts. can’t eat or move at all#tried to sleep through it so it would at least Be Tomorrow so I can get medical help. but the jolts of pain make me like Jump#hence me being sent home from work early today like it’s not even that I was complaining I was just flinching involuntarily so much#and was unable to work or function at all. thank god I don’t work retail rn I remember the pain of tattoo infections in that context#it’s so Abrupt it feels like I’m being stabbed or repeatedly bitten#literally trying not to scream bc I have a roommate. but he almost certainly hears me crying and saying ouch#which sucks bc I barely know the guy lol he has no context. At least on my drive home I could scream as much as I needed#literally would go to the ER if I could afford it and that sounds so dramatic bc it is#it doesn’t feel like it can wait. genuinely don’t know how I’m gonna get through the night#I haven’t slept in like 60 hours and I doubt I will tonight. but it hurts too much to even tell if I’m tired#and I don’t have time for this!! I have so much I need to be doing. I hate that the only way I can have Time is to be Extra Disabled#in a way that leaves me completely unable to do the things I normally can fight through despite burnout#and I was just at health services yesterday asking them to do insurance paperwork that they couldn’t do#it’s embarrassing having to be like hey I was just there but can I come back#I have Another tattoo infection but I pinky promise I take such good care of them#and my artist is like the best of the best too. it’s like it doesn’t matter what either of us does to keep me safe#and I know if anyone responds to this it will be to tell me to stop getting tattoos#but that’s literally like telling me not to get top surgery if I’m immunocompromised n might have recovery complications#both are equally important gender affirming medical procedures to me I’m not joking#and I hate always having to justify this whilst in agonizing pain. I hate answering the same things every time bc still no one believes me#I say this as someone who lives every moment in baseline pain that would have your average person writhing on the floor and I ignore it#this is truly unbearable if I hadn’t been through it a million times I would think it was life threatening#just needed to get it out ig. bc it’s all I can physically do. until health services opens in 12 hours#PLEASE let them have availability tomorrow bc i have literally no option on weekends#this is just. so upsetting and embarrassing. I don’t have time or emotional capacity for this#personal#mine#vent post
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sickgraymeat · 2 years ago
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sorry for all the weird personal and/or rambly text posts! and also for posting like 12000000 in two minutes and then not at at all for 12000 years and so on. this is another dumb one so by way of apology i offer this doodle of a mysterious and handsome stranger (shh they’re in disguise)
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digitaldiseas3 · 4 months ago
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i can’t remember if i told tumblr about this already but whateva. i’m still thinking abt the dude who was hitting on me so hard this morning on my way to class. and i’m still thinking abt the hinge comment i got this morning that said smth like “you’re the kind of woman men used to go to war for, and id be first in line” like damn what was in the air that was making men NEED me
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ellecdc · 2 months ago
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Can you imagine pregnant medic reader feeling baby kick for the first time and not wanting to interrupt the boys in practice/at a game but knowing how much they’d want to feel the baby?? (Can be with any of the boys or all of them LOL)
so cuttteeee
hockey!marauders x team medic!reader who interrupts practice [877 words]
CW: pregnancy, afab fem!reader, poly!marauders
The boys have been conflicted about you still working ever since they found out you were expecting. 
On one hand, they liked having you close by; within their sights should you need them, and just getting to enjoy the pregnancy with you even when they were traveling for away games.
On the other hand, they hated that you spent so much of your job on your feet, they were extremely nervous having you so close to the action of the game, and don’t even get them started when you have to step out onto the ice. 
But you were determined to work for as long as you possibly could, and you couldn’t deny that part of you enjoyed getting to spend as much time as possible with your boyfriends during this very exciting time of your lives.
Were there times you wondered if you wouldn’t perhaps benefit from a little space from them? Sure. Especially when James tried to sit in on all of your appointments with the guys to ensure you weren’t straining yourself, or when Sirius stood directly in your line of sight at every game in an attempt to ‘save you from the tomfoolery, babe’, or when Remus shoved anyone who tried to help you out onto the ice so he could chaperone you himself.
But there were moments - like this - that found you so grateful to have them close by. 
“You okay, mama?” Coach Moody asked, though he didn’t bother moving his gaze from the ice where head coach Albus was standing with the boys for practice. “You seem jumpy.” 
You hummed in agreement as you placed a hand on your stomach; gently pushing and prodding what felt like a hard part of a little body, wondering if you were only imagining it. 
You’d become aware that you weren’t simply growing at about eighteen weeks into your pregnancy when you felt the baby move for the first time. It was like you remembered that your pants were shrinking for an actual reason. But any movement on the baby's part could only be felt internally.
Today, however-
“Oh.” You whispered, and Moody wrenched his eyes from the ice to grab your elbow.
“Doc? Are you okay?” 
“Yes, yes. Sorry.” You let out with a laugh; looking to the ice to ensure the boys couldn’t see you being fussed over even though you sort of wanted to call them over here yourself. 
“What do you need?” Moody gruffed, though he kept his voice low as if knowing any attention directed your way would result in cacophony from nearly half the team.
“No, nothing. Sorry Coach.” You laughed. “I just…I think, well, the baby’s kicking.” 
Moody furrowed his eyes at you as he examined your face; one blue eye piercing and intuitive, the other glass eye which saw the iris and pupil replaced by the Gryffindor Lion’s logo seemed just as knowing.
“First time?” 
“First time I can feel it with my hand, yeah.” 
He looked you over one last time, cautiously removing his hand from your elbow and looking out onto the ice before blowing his whistle. 
“Gather ‘round.” He barked, and though Albus looked confused, he allowed the team to head to the bench. 
“Did ya miss us, Moody?” Sirius sing-songed as he made his way over, James laughing and Remus rolling his eyes in response. 
“The only time I get any peace is when the lot of you fuck off.” Moody barked back, but his face stayed soft. “Your baby’s kicking.” 
Sirius’ teasing smirk fell quickly as he whipped his head to you, James nearly fell over in his haste to make it to you and Remus quickly skated around the clump of bodies to join him; all three of them leaning against the boards in front of you.
“You didn’t have to stop practice for this…” You chided Moody gently, but it seemed that Sirus, James, and Remus weren’t the only one’s excited about it. 
“Oh my god! Can I feel!?” Fenwick called, earning him an elbow in the side from Remus. 
“Not before us? What the fuck…” Sirius mumbled, keeping his eyes on your stomach as if he could see it. 
“Well hurry up then! You’ve got a line behind you.” Grönvall hollered then.
“Goalie first; is rule.” Krum muttered as he placed himself in front of both Fenwick and Grönvall, though politely stayed behind the three boys who all tucked one glove under their opposite arm and held their hands out to you. 
The practice arena fell quiet as the entire team held their breath, and you felt sort of horrified at the sudden pressure to perform.
“This will be so embarrassing if it doesn’t happen again.” You admitted quietly, suddenly very embarrassed to have interrupted practice.
Remus made a humming sound in dissent as he brushed his thumb over your belly, and then it happened.
“Holy shit!” James cheered, Sirius’ head snapping up to beam a smile at you.
“Did you feel that!?” Sirius asked no one in particular, but you, James, and Remus all confirmed that you did.
“Okay great! Next!” Dearborn called from behind Grönvall, and that’s how you ended up spending the rest of the practice with various hands on your stomach at any given moment.
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hanzajesthanza · 3 months ago
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something like that… at least, it was intentional on his part
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I love Angoulême she’s one of my favorite lesser known witcher characters
but I hate that her name is Angoulême, I can’t search for her character I just get the city in France, and even after hearing how it’s said in the audiobook I can’t pronounce it
Like did Sapkowski just point randomly to a map of Europe and wrote down the first name he saw
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irndad · 4 months ago
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don't date coworkers- s.r.
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a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k
She’s really, really good at talking to people. 
It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is. 
She’s good at talking to him.
She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take. 
Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life. 
It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window. 
Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea. 
“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”
She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass. 
“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?” 
He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her. 
“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner. 
“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing. 
“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”
If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then. 
He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes. 
She doesn’t date coworkers. 
He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen. 
She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible. 
“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.” 
Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked. 
Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who. 
He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her. 
She doesn’t date coworkers. 
“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”
“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”
“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”
“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”
It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled. 
___________________________________
Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way. 
“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise. 
“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers. 
“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek. 
“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder. 
She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.
Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.
“Are you okay, boy-genius?”
“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”
She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to. 
Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.
It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.  
She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his. 
He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like. 
“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.
“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.
“Like, at a bar or something.”
“But you hate bars.”
“That’s why I said or something!”
Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”
It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh. 
“I don’t think so, Spence.” 
“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“
“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”
It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned. 
“What are you talking about?”
“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”
“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”
She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying. 
“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”
“Yeah, but-“
“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?”
“Obviously!”
He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.
“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much. 
“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”
When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status. 
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wavesmp3 · 8 months ago
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young & stupid
yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)
you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.
genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol
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Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.
Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.
So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.
But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.
“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”
“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”
“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”
You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”
He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”
This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.
“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”
“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”
You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.
“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”
You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?
And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.
You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.
You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”
“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.
You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”
He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.
“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”
You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.
He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”
And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.
It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.
“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.
“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“
You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.
“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”
Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.
“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”
You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.
That fucker.
“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.
Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”
“That was their third time asking me out.”
“And?”
“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”
“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”
He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”
You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.
“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”
“East campus. The Austin Complex.”
He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”
You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”
“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”
“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”
He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.
“Are you crazy?”
“Most people don’t think so.”
“People will honk.”
“It’s 1 am.”
You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.
“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”
He passes the light just as it turns red.
You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.
And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.
You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”
“Payback.”
You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.
“Excuse me?”
Fuck. Did you say that outloud?
“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.
“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”
You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”
“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”
“Lubinsky.”
Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”
“His quizzes are impossible.”
“Yeah, but he’s funny.”
You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”
He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”
“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.
“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.
“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”
He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”
You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”
He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”
You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, very funny.”
“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.
Goddamn it–those eyes.
You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”
“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”
“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”
“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”
You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…
Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.
As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.
“Do it again.”
“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”
He points to your worksheet. “One more.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I thought you wanted an A.”
“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”
“Just do it.”
You groan and set up another integral.
To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.
Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.
You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”
“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“
You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”
Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.
He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.
“So can we take a break now?”
He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”
You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.
“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”
“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”
“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”
He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”
You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”
He cocks his head. “No?”
You shake yours. “No.”
“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”
“How come you haven’t asked?”
He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.
You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”
“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.
“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”
“So why’d you date him then?”
For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.
The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”
He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”
Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”
He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”
Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”
His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)
“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”
You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”
He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.
You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.
You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.
“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”
You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”
“If we kissed?”
“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”
“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”
You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.
“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”
“Probably?” You echo.
“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.
You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”
He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?
“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”
And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”
He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.
“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.
And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?
Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.
“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”
You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”
He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.
He points to your cup. “Shot?”
You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”
Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.
The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.
“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”
“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)
“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”
You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”
Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.
“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.
“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”
Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.
“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”
Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”
You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”
“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.
They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”
“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”
Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”
Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.
“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”
The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”
Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”
You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”
Joshua leans towards you. “What?”
You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.
The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.
“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”
You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”
He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”
Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”
Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”
“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.
Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”
You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”
“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”
“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”
Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”
Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?
Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.
The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.
The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.
And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.
Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.
There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.
Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.
You swallow.
“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”
Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?
Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.
You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”
“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”
“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”
You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”
His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”
“It could be.”
Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.
“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.
“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.
Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”
“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”
And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.
Your phone buzzes.
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally
Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s
You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?
Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place
You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb
You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast
You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right
Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD
An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.
By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”
He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”
“Mine? Why?”
“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”
“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”
He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”
You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”
He burps. “Because of me?”
The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”
“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”
You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”
He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”
“And the occasion was…?”
He looks you dead in the eye.
“You make me nervous.”
Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.
Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.
He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.
“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.
He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”
“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.
“But I’m really sorry.”
“And I really don’t mind.”
He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”
You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”
He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.
You mumble back a ‘thanks’.
“So, what’d you think of the game?”
You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.
“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”
“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”
“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”
You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”
“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”
“Which assignment? The chem lab?”
You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”
“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”
“Okay, you’re drunk.”
“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”
Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.
“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”
“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.
“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”
Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”
“Did you just cringe?”
“–you smell like vomit.”
“Well, do you have clothes for me?”
“No, but I have a couch.”
He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”
(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.
You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)
When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.
As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?
Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.
“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”
“Date?”
“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.
“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”
“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”
You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.
The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.
“Come on, they’re so cute.”
“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”
“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”
“Good thing we’re not one.”
“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”
You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.
“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”
And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.
“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.
“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”
“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.
You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”
He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”
And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.
“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”
“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”
His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”
“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.
You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.
You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”
“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”
You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”
“Other than Soonyoung?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”
You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”
He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”
“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”
He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”
You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”
He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.
He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”
His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”
“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”
He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”
You squint at him. “Why?”
And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”
Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”
He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”
“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”
The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”
“I thought you hated the ocean.”
“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”
You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.
“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.
Did that just happen?
Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.
He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”
He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.
And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.
The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.
“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.
“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”
“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.
“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”
“Yeah, but the game was fun.”
“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.
“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”
That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.
Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”
“Like what?”
“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”
“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.
You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.
“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”
This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”
But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.
Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”
After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.
He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”
“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”
Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”
You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?”
You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”
He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”
Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.
“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.
It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”
You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.
“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”
“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”
You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”
They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.
“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”
“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”
“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”
You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”
You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.
You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.
“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.
You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”
“What kind of rule is that?”
“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”
You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”
He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.
The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.
“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”
He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”
You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”
He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”
You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”
He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”
You kiss him.
You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.
The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.
He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.
A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”
“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.
1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.
2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.
3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?
4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?
5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.
6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”
7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”
8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”
9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”
10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.
11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.
12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”
13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”
14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”
15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?
16! Please, you want to beg, say something.
17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”
18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.
The rest of the numbers blur in your head.
(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.
“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”
The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)
You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.
By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.
You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.
You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.
By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.
Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”
You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”
“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”
“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”
You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”
“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”
You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.
You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.
Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.
“Seungcheol called me.”
His face twitches. “Why?”
“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”
He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”
You nod.
He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.
You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”
He nods.
“Do you want a ride back?
He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How would you get back to yours?”
“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”
He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”
The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”
“For what?”
“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”
He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”
He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“I’ll drop you home.”
You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.
Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”
“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”
Oh.
Oh.
Holy fucking shit.
He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”
You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”
He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”
You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I don’t think–”
“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”
He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.
He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.
You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.
You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.
Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”
You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”
“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”
You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.
And you can’t help it, you grin.
You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.
“How did you get here?”
“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”
“I told you to–”
“I know what you said.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”
“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”
You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.
“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.
You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.
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lokidjarin-7567 · 1 month ago
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The Prophecy
Viktor x You When the friend of your youth, Viktor, sees you still living in the Undercity, and working in a strip club at that, he is determined to reconnect, and rekindle a childhood friendship that was rooted in something more. Contents: fem!reader, fluff, angst and smut all in one folks, 18+ MDNI, a few physical features described but still reader insert I think (hair colour and freckles), both Viktor and you POVs, long-ass one shot 8.1k words Taglist: @night-fall-moon @zsuzsu321 @sh1zhu @circeinspace @casualjagodek @retrokatz @am-3-thyst @xlittlemissydjx @sseleniaa @thefandomsfervent Hi guys, thanks for bearing with my while I've been working on this one!! I have been absolutely obsessed with this man ever since I finished Arcane, so I just had to write something about him! I also think a lot of people mischaracterise him, so I tried really hard to get his personality right - let me know if I actually have lol. Anyone who knows my works knows how slutty my smut can get lol, but this is actually quite tender so a new one for me too. Anyway, I'll stop waffling now, I hope you enjoy. TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3
DISCLAIMER: while this, in my opinion, is still classified as an ‘x you’ fic, a few physical features are described, namely ‘you’ having burgundy red hair that is, at one point, described as curly and having freckles, alongside a handful of super vague descriptors (eg. fluttering eyelashes, slope of her nose AKA things that can be applied to any and all faces) - basically everyone in the Arcane show has cool hair so I thought this would be a cute detail. It’s possible to ignore if you don’t want to think about have a different hair colour, but if you don’t want to, don’t read it! Almost every comment on this fic has been relating to this which, when I put hours of hard work and effort into something that I was proud of, is insanely demoralising. There has always been a disclaimer in the contents above, but I’m adding it here as well so it’s as clear as possible. Dead dove do not eat and all that. And I’m always open to constructive criticism, but there’s a way to go about it, and a way that will put someone in a slump for months, so please think before you comment! Anyway, not to put a downer before the work, thank you for the reposts and loves so far ❤️
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Viktor was lost in thought as he made his way back to Piltover, small tube of Shimmer tucked away in his satchel. He didn’t know what to do. Using it might stabilise the Hexcore, allowing it to keep the plants alive and accomplish everything he and Jayce had been working towards for years, maybe even curing this sickness that had taken over him, or…
Or it could end horribly.
The undercity was as dark and unpleasant as he remembered it. He had never fit in here in his youth - too scrawny, too bookish, and with his leg, he stood no chance. And now was no different.
The neon store signs stood out against the blackened buildings and muddy streets. This part of the city, deep in the underbelly of Zaun, seemed busier than the rest, roads bustling with call girls and salesmen and tourists from Topside taking their pick of unruly establishments. Hundreds of voices layered atop each other in a cacophony of harsh laughter, garish music and argumentative tones. There was barely space to walk, especially with his cane, and he was starting to wonder if this journey was even worth it.
Then something caught his eye. A flash of red, deep and vibrant, moving towards him on the far side of the lane. It was hair, bouncy and curly and his subconscious told him it was shorter than it should’ve been, but it was a colour he knew. Her face wasn’t one he could place at first, but as she got closer, he saw the freckles that smattered across her nose like a constellation, her pink lips that were perpetually curled into a soft frown, her eyes that she always accentuated with brown liner. It was her.
The only friend of his youth. A young girl who used to sit behind the foliage near the water where he tested his inventions. She was shy, even shyer than he used to be, too scared to ask him anything about what he was making for a long time, just watching with curious eyes. But he would never forget the day she moved closer. The way her long, burgundy locks flowed around her, almost touching the floor, the way she was trying her best to be confident, but there was a soft shake in her hand, and a slight stutter as she said hello. Then she produced a small invention of her own - a submarine, the same colour as her hair, designed to float perfectly so the periscope was the only thing that peeked out from the surface.
For years, they were inseparable. She was more artistic than him, always adding a flair to her designs that he didn’t have, so he’d let her ‘improve’ his too. They would play together, and then as they got older, build together, each creation more daring and experimental. And then they started to drift apart. They were in their mid teens when her mother got sick, and she couldn’t make it out as much. Viktor always offered to help, but she refused, not even allowing him to see where she lived. And so, when Professor Heimerdinger found him and offered him an opportunity to be his assistant, he couldn’t even tell her. He left a note, delicately placed under a rock where they would build together, telling her where to find him and how to get in touch, but he never heard anything.
And now here she was. He called out her name softly, not wanting to alarm her in this hostile city, but she didn’t hear. She’d walked past him now, so he turned, following but she was walking fast, faster than he could manage. He called out again, but it wasn’t until then that he noticed the headphones over her ears. She couldn’t hear a thing. He carried on, hoping she would stop but she didn’t. If it was anyone else, he would’ve gone home, given up, but now he’d caught a glimpse of her, he had to see her. To talk to her. To find out why she never got in touch. To apologise for leaving her behind.
She disappeared from view for a moment, and he panicked, thinking he’d lost her again, but he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, entering an alley beside a row of bars and clubs. He grimaced, following her to see the red locks just moving out of sight again, and a bouncer closing the door behind her. He tried to follow her into the building, but the man stopped him.
“Please…” he asked, out of breath, “it’s an old friend, I need to see her…”
“Staff entrance only, pal. You’ll have to go ‘round the front like everyone else.”
“But… she’s right there… I only need one moment, if she just saw me…” The words died on his lips. Would she even recognise you?
“Don’t make me ask you twice.”
It was dark inside the club, the lights low apart from on the stage and around the bar. It was only mid afternoon, but the place was near full of lowlifes just starting their evenings, sloshing their drinks and talking loudly. The neon from outside carried into this space too, strip lights around the platforms accentuating their presence. There were dancers atop each of them, but he averted his eyes. He shouldn’t have come here. This was so far from his comfort zone, loud and unruly, a long way away from his lab, but he had to see her. He couldn’t let her go again.
He found a stool by the bar, ordering a soda and waiting for her to start her shift. There was no way he could miss her again if he was right here when she started.
And then he saw her at the very edge of his vision, as though his eyes were programmed to search her out in any crowd. She was on stage, cherry red hair glowing in the soft lights, combined with the neon from below making her look like a ghost, ethereal. What was she doing up there?
***
“Afternoon, Joey.” You muttered to the bouncer, and he opened the door for you wordlessly as you slipped off your headphones, replacing your perfectly selected playlist with the sleazy music of the club. Just one of the many reasons you hated working here. You were running late, as per, throwing your things in your locker and quickly changing. Lacing up your shoes always took the longest time, and you barely even had a chance to check yourself in the mirror when you were finished. Your hair looked perfect at least, the naturally burgundy curls sitting at shoulder length. You missed the long hair of your youth, but it become impractical very quickly, and the memories it held… you ended up cutting it all off soon after your mum died. That was when you started working here too. You’d had dreams, of course you did, but growing up in the Undercity made it almost impossible to follow them. There were worse places to work though - for the most part, the patrons were respectful, and everyone who you worked with was kind, but it was still a strip club. At the end of the day, no little girl wanted to be an exotic dancer when they grew up. At least it just about paid the bills.
You had been put on a long shift today - late afternoon until the early hours. You didn’t mind though; it was exhausting, but more time meant more tips. And you needed the money. You were saving, slowly but surely. One day, it would be enough.
These shifts always started slow. Not many tips this early in the day. Not enough drunks - they were all too willing to part with their money, an exploit you knew how to use. After a while on stage, it was your turn to make your way into the crowd. You started away from the bar, smiling at a few, a couple of words of flirtation thrown around, but no one was loose enough for anything else yet. There was something different about the energy today though. You felt… exposed, on display, more than usual. Self conscious in a way you hadn’t been since your first week. By the time you got to the bar, you were already feeling frustrated at the lack of interest. But your favourite coworker was pouring the drinks tonight, and she had one ready for you already.
“Thanks, Katie” You crooned, knocking back the shot quickly and she immediately offered to refill - something you gratefully accepted.
“Thought you might need it. Slow start?”
“Yeah, not the best day so far.” You took your second, thanking her again, when you heard a voice call out your name. Your real name. It made you start, whipping your head around to find the source. You didn’t use that name here. You were expecting to see an ex, or an old boss, but instead you were met with a face you hadn’t seen in years.
His eyes hadn’t changed. Kind but tired, amber in colour and glowing like whiskey in sunlight. The curve of his nose was the same, the curl of his lips, the small moles like points on a map - one beneath his right eye and the other to the left of his lip. There was a cane tucked beside his stool, and he was dressed well. Too well to be in this part of town. A uniform of some sort, something a Topsider would wear: blue shirt accented with a cream ascot and waistcoat. It suited him.
As soon as you saw him, every fond memory of your childhood rushed back to you like a river. The gentleness when he explained his creations to you. His willingness when you asked if you could paint them pretty colours, or add cute designs. The way he held you as you cried about your mum falling ill. How quickly he offered you support, and how quickly you turned him down. You didn’t want to be a burden, but you regretted that choice as soon as he stopped showing up to your usual spot. You kept going for months before you gave up, still trying to find him. The last time you visited was to scatter your mum’s ashes - your stories of Viktor’s designs and the beautiful creek where you tested them out together being one of the last things that brought her comfort.
And now, he was here.
He’d made it out. He’d made it Topside. And you’d only fallen further down.
If there was one person you never wanted to see you like this, it was him. He was the only slither of your youth and innocence left, the only soul in the whole of Runeterra who knew the true version of yourself, the first version of yourself. The version you actually liked. And now, he had to see this. You couldn’t tell what you were feeling. Every emotion was vying for attention: joy, nostalgia, anger, envy…
He repeated your name in a questioning tone, and you realised you’d been staring at him, the rollercoaster of emotions you just went on likely visible on your face.
“Do you know him, darling? Or shall I grab Joe?” Katie asked from behind the bar, staring him down with a protective look. Viktor opened his mouth to speak, indignant look on his face, but you answered for him, never once being able to tear your eyes from him.
“Yeah I… cover for me? If anyone asks, he got a dance.”
“Of course.” Viktor’s gaze had returned you, confused, and you just muttered a ‘come on’, signalling him to follow you, and you lead him across the floor to one of the private rooms. They weren’t exactly the nicest places to talk, the whole room painted a hideous deep purple, a weirdly-shaped black velvet sofa the only thing to sit on. As soon as you closed the door, turning around to see the soft look on his face, every drop of anger seeped from you, replaced with relief. Relief that he was alive. Relief that he had done something with his life. Relief that you hadn’t lost him forever.
You couldn’t help it but let the tears fall as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tight.
***
He was surprised by her warm welcome. After all these years, he had always imagined she would resent him, but here she was, face pressed to his chest as she hugged him, tears falling onto his shirt. He didn’t even have to think about it, one arm naturally surrounding her as she cried, keeping her close, while the other held firm to his cane, ensuring it was stable for the both of them. He never wanted to let her go again.
She eventually pulled away though, wiping her tears with the shy smile he remembered so well.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.. on your fancy Topside shirt too.” She laughed nervously, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I… um, I imagined bumping into you one day, finding you again, but I never thought I would be dressed like this.” He finally let himself glance down at her when he said that, to take her in completely, safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t meeting his eyes. She looked beautiful - a black two-peice set, solid silk on the areas that counted, but the frills and accents were a sheer lace, stockings too, glittering beads woven into the delicate material. Even if the environment didn’t suit her, somehow the clothes still did, the same style he’d seen her develop in her teenage years. Simple in colour, beautiful in design - the cunning of her inventor’s mind applied to her other passion.
“What are you doing here, Viktor?” She sat down on the awkward sofa, curling her legs up onto it, and he followed suit, resting his cane against the arm.
“I could ask you the same thing.” It fell from his lips before he could stop it, and he winced, expecting her to be offended, but she just smiled sadly.
“You got out.” She stated as a shrouded question, ignoring his quip, and he nodded. He could explain, he should, but not yet.
“And you never wrote me.” He responded.
“Write you? Viktor, I didn’t know where you were.” She never got your letter.
“I left you a note by the creek. You never got it?” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve found you somehow, or…”
“It’s ok, Vik.” She shuffled closer on the loveseat, grabbing his hand and squeezing tight. Hearing the name she used to call him sent a pang of pain to his heart. This is what he had been missing out on all these years, all because of a stupid letter. “If I was in your shoes, I’d have done the same. Besides, I never let you see where I lived, or anything else about me. And when mum… I fell off the face of the earth. I wouldn’t have let you in no matter how hard you tried.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“I know.”
***
You spent a long time asking about his life now. He was working in the academy, partners with Piltover’s favourite researcher, helping to create the HexTech that kept the whole city afloat… he had changed the fucking world. And you were… here. Still.
He said your name softly, as though trying to broach a subject carefully and you knew what was coming. You had seen the query floating in his eyes since the moment he saw you.
“What are you doing working here? I mean, you’re brilliant, more so than me, and yet…”
“I’m still stuck in the Lanes?” You sighed.
“Well, yes.” You’d never once thought of him as ignorant. Maybe he’d been living Topside for too long.
“I never got my break. You deserved what you got, of course you did, and you’re the smartest person I know, Viktor, but that doesn’t change the fact that you got lucky. And it’s not the same here as when we were kids. Sure, things weren’t great then, but now… There are no jobs, no money, housing is insanely competitive even though most of it is disgusting.. it’s a vicious cycle meant to keep you in the shitter. This is what I could get. It pays my bills and lets me save a little, the other girls are nice, it’s close to my apartment…”
“But…” You knew from the look on his face what he was going to say - a long speech about how much potential you have, and how much better you could have it. You dropped his hand.
“But what?” You couldn’t help but snap, defensive over the very job that you cursed daily. “But I’m better than selling myself to sleazy drunks? You think I don’t fucking know that? You think I want to be losing my sense of self every day just so I can keep the lights on? You think it’s my dream to feel like I’m a lesser human being because I will let someone pay me to take them into this room and…” You stood up then, starting to pace as silent tears fell. You never let yourself think about any part of your life longer than you had to. Not pondering on it was the only thing keeping you alive.
“You know I wasn’t saying that…”
“I know I’m sorry… I just…”
“I know… I know…” He stood up then too, wrapping you in his arms and letting you cry. Again. You felt so stupid. “I missed you.” He whispered, face nestled into your hair, barely audible.
“I missed you too.” The tender moment didn’t last for long though, as a sharp knock on the door startled you, jumping away from him and wiping your eyes.
“Vikki?” Joey’s voice called out, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You ok in there?” You put on your smiley voice, cooing back to him.
“Yeah, all good Joe, got a paying customer in here...”
“You got it, doll.” You heard him walk away, and turned back to see Viktor looking at you, head cocked, small smirk playing across his features.
“What?” You asked with a shy smile, wiping away the last of your tears.
“Vikki?” Oh.
“Well I couldn’t exactly use my real name.” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but giggle too. “That does mean we’ve been in here too long though, I should…”
“Yeah, no of course…” he moved to open the door, grabbing his cane, but you stopped him quickly, pressing your hand against the door frame.
“One second…” He frowned as you reached towards him, but he didn’t move, just watched curiously as you took your time unknotting his ascot. Once it was off, you unbuttoned a few of his buttons, trying to ruffle his shirt a little, make it look like you had actually been doing your job rather than talking to an old friend. “There…” you muttered quietly, realising he’d shuffled a little closer to you as you worked, and now his lips were only a breath away. He was looking at you so intently, as though there was something he wanted to say, but he never spoke, just gazed at you in a way that made your heart swell. Your hands lingered on his chest, comforted by the warmth and solidness of him. A reassurance that he was real and here. You didn’t want to move.
“Please, don’t go anywhere just yet…” you muttered, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
***
She had been backstage for a while now, muttering something about trying to move her shifts around. She came back beaming, and it was infectious, a smile he was trying to fight taking over his own face just at the sight of her.
“Ok, if you’re busy tonight, or you have plans, you can tell me to piss off…”
“Never.” She blushed in response, her wide smile spreading further as she spoke, and he was helplessly drawn to her, eyes scanning her face intently.
“Well, someone came in early for their shift, but someone else is running late… anyway, our schedule is a mess, but good news is I only have to stay for another hour and then I’m free so… I was thinking, maybe you’d want to grab some food and catch up? Unless you have somewhere else to be…” She still sounded so shy, so unsure - the same habit she had when she was young, babbling when she was nervous. He was finding it hard to connect the dots in his mind: the timid person before him now, the girl he used to know, and the dancer on that stage, full of bravado and confidence.
“That sounds wonderful.” The joy in her face was intoxicating, and he watched as relief visibly washed over her body.
“Ok, brilliant.” She spun away for just a moment, trying to track down the bartender she seemed to know well. “Katie, he’s with me, ok? Send him back in like an hour, and his drinks are on my tab.” He tried to protest, but she rested a hand on his shoulder, quickly silencing him. “I insist. It’s the least I can do, considering how long you have to wait around.” Again, he tried to tell her didn’t mind, that he’d wait as long as she needed, anything for her, but she was gone already, slipping into the crowd, his shoulder cold where her hand had been. He sighed, turning back towards the bar on his stool, taking another sip of his soda.
“That’s our Vikki…” Katie mused, slicing a few garnishes behind the bar. “Never accepting that somebody else would want to do something for her.” He let out a dry laugh, half at the name, half in agreement.
“That sounds like her.” A beat of silence passed between them. The club was starting to fill up, but it wasn’t too rowdy yet, and nobody else was at the bar, all relying on bottle service and shot girls instead.
“Drink?” He shook his head politely. “How do you know her?” Katie asked, staying busy but obviously trying to snoop. He didn’t mind. She was a topic he didn’t mind talking about.
“Childhood friend. I haven’t seen her in… a very long time.” Her eyebrow shot up at that.
“What was your name, by the way?”
“Viktor.” A look of surprise flitted across her face.
“Ohh.” She drawled knowingly, smiling at herself as she continued to wedge limes.
“What?”
“I’ve heard of you, that’s all. Her childhood love who disappeared on her while her mother was dying…”
“You don’t know the whole story…” He snapped back quickly. He might hate himself for what happened, but he felt the need to defend his choices. It had turned out well for him, he just wished he could’ve found her. Taken her with him. Their life could’ve been so different. Katie chuckled, continuing her tasks.
“Oh trust me, I do. She’s very quick to defend you, you know. You can do no wrong in her eyes…”
“Not so sure about that…” As he muttered to himself, something she’d said suddenly hit him. Her childhood love…“Actually, on second thought, I will grab a drink please, whatever she usually has. But don’t put it on her tab…”
“I wasn’t planning on it, Topsider.” She saluted mockingly with a smile.
Two down and that was all he was having, just needing something to take the edge off after Katie’s admission. All those years wasted, because you thought childhood love was stupid and pointless. And now, seeing her again, you still love her as much as you did back then…
Katie was on her break, so he twisted in his seat, trying to find her in the crowd. She had never been difficult for him to spot, everything about her so familiar to him, and this time, she was centre stage, which made it even easier. Every part of him was screaming to turn away, to not taint his view of her, but he was instantly transfixed. She danced so fluidly, so gracefully. Every movement she made was purposeful and poised. However much she hated her job, she took pride in it. He was a scientist, sure, but she was a creator, through and through.
***
You were finally finished, and you were exhausted. Even though it wasn’t even half a usual shift, seeing Viktor, all the memories it brought back, it had been so emotionally draining.
You were grateful that the changing area was empty. It wasn’t the usual shift time, and no one ever came here on their break, so at least Viktor wouldn’t have to deal with that. You almost laughed at the thought.
There was a gentle knock, and his voice sent a flutter straight to your heart.
“Vikki?” He called out mockingly, and you laughed at the way he’d latched on to your new name. It was inspired by him, after all. “Are you decent?”
“Yes, you can come in.” You were looking good, if you said so yourself. The fashion and the opportunity you were afforded to express yourself in that way was one of the few things you did like about this place. You’d tried to incorporate the shapes and designs of your ‘work attire’ into a more Lanes-friendly outfit, layering a black organza shirt over the lacy bodice, beading shining through the sheer fabric, pairing it with a bubble skirt and knee high boots, just the right height to allow your stockings to peek from the top. There was only one item that wasn’t black; his neckerchief that you had taken earlier was now around your own collar, tied in a dainty bow. He grinned as soon as he laid his eyes on it, striding towards you and gently holding the hemmed edge between his fingers.
“I guess I’m not getting this back, huh.”
“Never.” He shrugged.
“I’m ok with that.” God, the way he looked at you. It made you melt without fail, warm flush spreading across your cheeks.
“Are you ready to go?” You muttered, eyes still glued to his, honey tones making you feel as though you were stuck in them. A fly trapped in amber, resigned to its fate.
“I’m ready when you are.”
You’d decided you were going to cook for him tonight instead of taking him out. The places near you either weren’t nice enough, or they knew you for the wrong reasons. Besides, you wanted to show him your place. To show him that, even though you were still here, you had done everything you could to make the best of it, to continue learning and inventing and developing yourself.
That did mean you had to stop by the store, though. Which meant bumping into Angel. He and Viktor would not get on.
You had grabbed Viktor’s arm as soon as you left the club, a habit from the times Joey had walked you home, knowing that you were safer beside a man than by yourself. Even though the Undercity was bustling tonight, there was something so soothing about being here with him. A nostalgia warming you from the inside out. He let you guide him into the shop below your apartment, chatting absentmindedly about nothing and everything, when a smooth voice stopped yoou in your tracks.
“Not so fast, Vikki…” You groaned, turning back the few steps you had made into the entrance.
“Hey Angel.” You cooed, although it felt wrong falling into your usual flirtatious routine when Viktor was right behind you. He was working behind the counter today, thumbing through the till. His long dreadlocks were down, grey peeking through his beard, wide grin as his eyes traced over you, following your arm to where it joined the man next to you.
“Is that a nickname, or…” Viktor muttered, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you responded.
“No, Vik, this is my landlord Angel…”
“Landlord, huh? Thought I was more than that, sugar…” He leaned across the counter, shit-eating smile on his face, clearing noticing and enjoying the fact he was winding up your new companion. Viktor scowled, moving a step closer to you.
“Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, old man…” You sent him a wink, and he laughed, the booming noise of it always making you smile. “What have you got in that’s fresh? I’m actually cooking tonight…”
You chatted a little longer, grabbing what Angel recommended and some wine, before heading upstairs via the back of the shop. Viktor was still scowling slightly as you were unlocking your door, and you laughed lightly, nudging him with the bag of shopping.
“What?” He huffed.
“I don’t like that guy.” He grumbled, feeling smug that you had called it.
“He’s my landlord, Vik, and a friend. He’s a good guy, don’t worry.” He just shrugged as you finally got the door open, and you thanked the stars that you had remembered to tidy last night, or else it would be a complete tip. There were still remnants from your busy morning scattered all around the studio: scrap pieces of fabric and thread strewn across the kitchen table, the half-finished neglige you were constructing laid over the back of one of the chairs, the cogs and pieces of machinery lie abandoned next to your sewing machine in the wake of the modifications you were trying to make so it could handle more delicate material. The space itself was dark in colour, olive and navy washing the walls, brown leather sofa and black countertops marking their territory in the small apartment, the stain-glass screen in front of your bed the only splash of jewel toned colour. You could feel Viktor’s curiosity at the place, and as he stepped further into it, a smile settled onto his lips.
“It’s so very… you.” He said, and in any other intonation, it would’ve sounded like a bad thing, but when he said it, full of adoration.. it was a compliment of the highest order.
***
She was mesmerising as she cooked, twirling in the kitchen to her carefully selected vinyl, a wide smile on her face as she tested what she was making. He wanted to help but she wouldn’t let him, batting him away and telling him to sit down, and for now, he had obliged. But, as much as he wanted to help her always, right now, he just wanted to be close.
“At least let me pour the wine?” He said, already standing to help, and she huffed, but didn't object. Instead, she handed him the corkscrew and the bottle wordlessly. He smiled, leaning against the counter and continuing to watch her as she stirred. She was always so chaotic when she was creating, something evidenced by the near bomb-site on her kitchen table. It was just so… her. Everything about her apartment was as well, such a perfect and beautiful representation of everything she was, every tiny detail of her life and personality reflected in the space she lived in. The colours, the soft furnishings, the bookshelves lining the wall behind her bed. Then, he noticed something about the stain glass screen that separated the room, soft light from her bedside lamp washing through it and creating a blue ripple across the floor like a stream. It was of their place, their creek. It was abstract, sure, but he would recognise it anywhere. The way certain rocks jutted out, the colours of it all, the small boat floating in the still glass water.
“Did you make that?” He asked earnestly, and she briefly glanced up from the stove to see what he was looking at.
“Yeah, I've been trying out a lot of different hobbies actually, things to keep me busy when I’m not working. That was one of my favourites…”
“It’s beautiful.” She smiled sadly, focusing her attention back to the pan.
“It reminds me of you.”
He poured them both a glass, and she gratefully accepted.
“It’s nearly finished, just a few more… oh I meant to ask earlier…” Her mind was such a beautiful thing, the speed at which it moved so captivating, not even time to finish her own thought before starting another, “why were you even here today? In the Undercity, in my club… I just never thought I’d see you back here by choice.”
“I was visiting an old friend, a quandary about a new gadget Jayce and I are working on, but…” He was going to say something about it, ask her opinion on whether he should follow Doctor Reveck’s advice, what he should do next, but he decided against it. “He didn’t have any insights.”
“Maybe I can help?”
“No, I…” She looked hurt at the speed the word left his mouth, almost recoiling and turning back to her cooking with a frown. “I mean that you probably could, but I don’t want to taint tonight by talking about a project that has been frustrating me for weeks. Another time though, of course I would appreciate your insight.” She sighed in relief, smile flitting back across her face. She grabbed a spoon from the drawer, humming as she did, a flurry of breathtaking movement as she dipped it into the sauce, spinning back around and holding it up to him.
“Taste?” She asked, the look on her face so hopeful it melted him, her joy infectious. But underneath all of it, he couldn't help but notice the cracks: the bags under her eyes, the tiredness set into them, the subtle shake of her hand. But he just smiled, enveloping her hand in his and bringing the spoon to his lips.
“It’s perfect.”
“I’m not sure I’d go that far.” She looked proud nonetheless, spinning back away from him and he was left to watch again, heart swelling. He wanted this. Cooking with her, drinking wine in the kitchen to her favourite record, letting her order him around. He wanted the… intimacy of it. The domesticity. The realisation of it ached. You could’ve had this. All these years without her, all these years wasted. Precious time that you no longer have to spare. If you’d have just waited, just taken more time to find her, insisted on helping her even…
“It’s ready!” She exclaimed, presenting a plate with a wide grin, and every stress, every regret simultaneously melted away and intensified, a pit forming in his stomach.
“It looks wonderful.”
***
You had eaten, and you were both now on your second glass of wine. You felt closer to him with every single second, drawn to every word he said like moth to a flame. At some point in the evening, you’d moved to the floor, backs to the sofa, as you looked through some of your old sketches you had found. The conversation lulled momentarily, a faraway look in his eyes, and you realised how close you had gotten. Your elbow was leaning on the sofa, supporting your head with your body twisted to face him, knee pressing against his thigh. You moved your head forwards to glance at the sketchbook, and your hand fell, resting on his shoulder. A stillness fell over him at the touch, and he smiled sadly to himself.
“I think you should come back with me.” He stated with finality, and you froze.
“What do you…”
“I think you should come back to Piltover.” He closed the book, placing it gently on the low coffee table. He was serious. “Help Jayce and I with our projects. Let me teach you about HexTech.”
“Vik, I don’t exactly have any actual experience. I don’t have an education. I can’t afford to live Topside…”
“You can live with me.” He said it so simply, like it was so obvious. Of course you would love that. Now you’d seen him again, you didn’t want to be apart from him but… “Professor Heimerdinger can give you lessons, but you have the mind already. There are certain things that can’t be taught. You have the passion, the skill, the creativity…”
“But…” You weren’t trying to pick apart his plan, but it felt terrifying. Even though it was everything you had ever wanted, it felt so far fetched. Like a fever dream. It didn’t feel like your life, your future.
“No, I… I lost you once, I can’t do it again.”
“Vik…” He grabbed your hand that was resting by his shoulder, and you felt yourself relax into his touch. He turned head to meet your eyes, sadness creeping into them.
“I don’t have much time left.” The finality of his statement shocked you, and you couldn’t tell what he was talking about. Did he have somewhere else to be? Oh god, you’d already kept him here too long…
“What do you mean, time left?”
“I’m dying.” It felt like somebody had punched you in the gut, all the air in your lungs gone.
“You’re…”
“Dying.” He repeated factually, and your heart sank further into your stomach. “And if we don’t… Jayce and I are working on something that might help, but if it doesn’t, I need someone I trust to take over from me.”
“Viktor, hold on, I need to think…” Your mind was racing, and you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around everything, hands running through your hair. He was dying. He wanted you to move Topside. He wanted you to work with him. To take over his life’s work. “It’s been years. I haven’t seen you in years and now you want me to… now you trust me to…”
“Of course.” He muttered, speaking your name softly to get your attention, hand gently wiping your face where tears had fallen without you noticing. “You’re everything to me, you always have been. There’s nothing I wouldn’t trust you with.” His hand was still resting on your face, and as you searched his eyes, you saw something else. Something pleading, something that echoed the feeling bouncing around in your heart. It would be hard. It would take a long time to settle in, to learn the ropes, to feel like you belonged. But it was your dream. To help change the world. And if he didn't have long, there was no chance you were wasting any of your time left with him.
“Ok.” You answered nodding, and you watched a smile take over his face, heart swelling at the sight.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… Vik, you’re offering me my dreams on a silver platter, and on top of it all, I get to be…” You nearly slipped, about to say be with you but you knew that was a lot. That you had only just reunited and to spring the whole I’ve loved you since I was 10 and I’ve never loved a soul since thing on him might ruin the dream that he’s just given you. But, fuck, you wanted to kiss him right now. “I get to work with you again.. there would have to be one hell of a catch for me to say no to that.”
“The whole dying thing isn’t too much of a problem then?” He asked with a slight smile, trying to hide a genuine fear beneath a joke.
“Oh, honey, knowing that we don’t have another decade of time to lose… I’m not letting you slip through my fingers this time.” His hand felt so natural resting against your cheek you’d forgotten it was there until it moved to cup the base of your neck, thumb drawing gentle lines across your jaw. His amber eyes were searching your features, looking for anything to indicate that you were unsure, but your resolve shone through, and you could see the moment he realised this was going to work, relief flooding through them.
Then, before you could process what was happening, his hand gently guided you forward until your lips brushed against his—light as a feather. For a moment, you couldn't believe he had just kissed you, that it was real. But as you met those pleading honey eyes, everything else faded away. Every doubt, every regret, every sliver of worry vanished, replaced by such overwhelming care and love that you felt you might burst. Your body gave in without conscious thought, melting into his arms as you kissed him. His hands drifted to the back of your head, tangling in your hair and pulling you closer. You couldn't get close enough, your hands gripping the front of his shirt. His fingers traced down your body until they reached your hips, pulling you over him. A soft giggle escaped into his mouth as you swung your leg over his, settling onto his lap. When he finally broke for breath, you found yourself chasing his lips, panting into the space between you with a wide smile.
His lips found yours again, this time with more urgency, more need. Your hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, steadying yourself as his grip on your hips tightened. The feeling of his fingers pressing into your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into his mouth. He smiled against your lips, one hand moving to cup your face while the other remained firmly at your waist.
"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered against your mouth, voice rough with emotion. You could only nod in response, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being in his arms after all these years.
The record had long since stopped playing, leaving only the sound of your shared breaths and racing hearts in the quiet apartment. His thumb traced gentle circles on your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, full of warmth and something deeper, something that had been there all along. Something that you had been too blinded by insecurity to notice earlier. Something that you knew all too well, reflected in your own heart. You pressed your lips to the mole on his cheek, and the one beside his mouth, a small smirk playing across his features as you did.
“I still can’t quite believe this is happening.” You muttered softly against his cheek, and he sighed, thumb dancing across your lips.
You eventually found yourselves entwined on your bed, limbs tangled in soft cotton sheets, his back pressed firmly against your sturdy wooden headboard as you rocked into him with gentle, deliberate movements. Each subtle shift of your hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your breath catch. You panted softly into his mouth as his strong, careful hands helped guide your every motion, his touch both grounding and electrifying. The overwhelming need to be closer drove you to pull him tighter against you, your arms wrapping securely around his shoulders until there wasn't even a whisper of space between your bodies. Your chest pressed firmly to his, feeling his rapid heartbeat matching yours, as your head naturally found its place in the crook of his neck. You pressed feather-light kisses against the sensitive skin, tasting the salt and breathing in his familiar scent. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming - so intense, so raw, so perfectly natural - and you found yourself climbing toward your peak faster than you ever had before, your body responding to his every touch as if it had been waiting for this moment forever. You whined softly into his skin as pleasure built within you, each movement bliss, and he responded with a groan as he pressed his lips tenderly to your temple.
"That feels so good, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice coarse with desire, and your hips instinctively bucked harder against him, drawing a sharp gasp from both of you. His meticulous fingers traced teasing patterns across your hipbones before finding their way between your bodies, circling your sensitive clit with perfectly measured pressure that made your toes curl. His other hand gently cupped your chin, drawing you back until your eyes met his, gilded with desire but still so full of tenderness. His lips ghosted across yours before he pressed his forehead to your own, releasing your face and returning his hand to your hip, guiding you once more. You could feel yourself fluttering around him as your pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak, and his eyes rolled back, a broken groan escaping his lips and filling the charged space between you. The coil of pleasure wound tighter and tighter as you approached your climax, desperately seeking more of him, claiming his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss that swallowed the stream of desperate moans spilling from both your lips. When your release finally crashed over you, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced - all the pressure, all the built-up desperation exploded like a supernova and pure, white-hot ecstasy consumed every nerve ending, every thought, every sensation except the feeling of him inside you and against you. He followed shortly after, gasping your name like a prayer against your skin as his own pleasure overtook him, his lips finding purchase on your neck as he shuddered through his release. In that moment, it was perfection, hearing him, feeling him, everything you had ever dreamed of and more. But as you came down from your shared bliss, you couldn't quite silence the intruding thought lurking at the edges of your consciousness - that you wouldn’t have him for long.
***
She looked so peaceful curled against him, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of his chest as if she belonged there, her beautiful red hair fanning out like a fiery halo in the dim light. Her beauty was staggering - the gentle slope of her nose, the delicate arch of her brows, the soft curve of her lips - and he couldn't help but trace each feature with his fingertips, mapping the geography of her face with tender precision. She sighed contentedly in her sleep at his touch, unconsciously pressing closer to him, one hand curling loosely in the fabric of his sheets that lay across them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this complete, this profoundly at peace, as if all the jagged pieces of his life had suddenly aligned. His fingers continued their gentle exploration, committing every detail to memory - the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the subtle flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips curved slightly downwards even in sleep. He wanted to capture this moment, to carry it with him always like a talisman, a protection. A reminder that he would do anything to preserve her peace of mind. To make her happy.
The soft amber from the bedside lamp caught in her hair and painted her skin in warm honey tones, making her look almost otherworldly in her beauty, an ethereal being who had chosen, inexplicably, to be with him. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a feather-light kiss, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, before letting his own eyes drift closed. Despite everything - the illness creeping through his veins, the uncertainty that clouded their future like a torrential storm on the horizon - right now, everything felt exactly as it should be.
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mingis-orangejuice · 5 months ago
Text
Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 4: Sylus
Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend
a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) Here's Sylus' part its the longest part, but also my favourite. hope you like it. also, I probably mixed up Luke and Kieran multiple times so just ignore it lol.
Genres/Warnings: lots of Luke and Kieran shenanigans, a bit of angst, fluff, kinda slow burn
Word count: 1936
Previous Parts 1 2 3
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You were spending the day with Luke and Kieran, it was supposed to be with sylus but something came up. He didn’t want you to waste your day off so he arranged for them to escort you around Linkon and basically do whatever you want for the whole day. While you were happy to have a chill day with your bodyguards/friends Luke and Keiran you were really looking forward to spending a whole day with Sylus. But recently lots of things have come up and he kept rescheduling all your dates. Was he trying to tell you something, is this his way of saying he’s not actually interested in you romantically but he’s too chicken to tell you? No, he wouldn’t do that, Sylus is one of the most direct people you know, if he didn’t like you, he’d just say so. So then why does it feel like he’s just stringing you along, when is he going to make you two official?
“MC?...MC?...” Luke’s voice snapped you out of your train of thought. 
“What? sorry I was a little spaced out.” you turn to the twins standing above you while you sit at one of the tables of the Linkon Mall foodcourt.
“I said where do you want to go for lunch? There's so many choices” Luke gestured to the row of different restaurants among the foodcourt.
“We could always have the boss’s favourite, ever since you let him try your instant ramen that's all he asks the chefs to make for him when you’re away,” Kieran suggested as both boys took a seat next to you on the other side of the table. “There's a ramen place right over there”
“Umm… I’m not sure… I’m not really hungry right now” You looked vacantly across the mall foodcourt starting to space out again
“The boss said there's no limit to how much we can spend today so we don’t have to eat here. Or if you can’t decide on what to eat we can buy a bit of everything and you can taste them all” Kieran suggests while taking out Sylus’ black credit card from his pocket.
“You have to eat something, the boss doesn’t want you to skip meals he told us to make sure you eat something or else” Luke warned in a fake threatening voice.
“Well, I guess if I have to in order to save you two from Sylus’ wrath, then I want something homemade, not this cheap generic stuff, so let’s go back to the base and see what we can cook up, what do you say?” 
“Anything for the Boss’s girlfriend,” Kieran said with a smile, he stood up and put out his arm for him to escort you to the car.
“Huh… what did you say?” You stopped reaching for Kieran’s arm at the word girlfriend.
“Anything for the boss’s …girlfriend…. I’m confused, are you not his girlfriend” Kieran looked embarrassed like he might have misread the situation.
“Well yeah…but .. he’s never said it before…so I didn’t think he thought of me as his girlfriend.” you stood awkwardly looking at the floor and playing with your hands.
“Of course he thinks of you that way he gets all smiley when he or anyone else mentions you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the boss smile so much before you came along” Luke grabbed your bags as you guys started to head to the car. “The boss just has a hard time expressing his emotions. ”  he mentioned brightly
“Yeah for the first year of us working for him he pretended not to remember our names cuz he didn’t want to seem soft, even tho he could already tell us apart after the first day even with our masks on.” Kieran said as he looked up to the sky like he was reminiscing on the Good-old-days 
“But he always calls you his girlfriend around us” 
“Right, he even calls you his girlfriend in the task memos he sends us” Luke shows you his phone with all the tasks set out by sylus. He clicks play and a voice recording of Sylus starts. 
“1. As I’ll be away for the day take my girlfriend to the mall and get her anything she wants, to keep her happy
2. Make sure she eats something for lunch, she tends to skip meals and gets really tired halfway through the day because of it. If she doesn’t eat anything, a punishment will be waiting for you upon your return.
3. Carry everything for her no matter how much she buys, rent a truck if you have to, I don’t want her straining herself before tonight’s special event…”
“Wait” you click pause on Luke’s phone. “what event, he never told me about that.” 
“Uhh…oops” Luke quickly puts away his phone “You weren’t supposed to hear that. Just pretend it didn’t happen”
Kieran slaps Luke’s arm “You idiot, that was supposed to be a surprise, the boss is gonna kill us”
“Just what is he planning?” you interrogate the twins. Both of them looked at each other as they opened the car door and helped you in.
“our lips are sealed.” they both said in unison while placing their fingers in an X over their lips
You guys were now in the car on the way back to the base. You’ve fallen silent thinking about this special event. just what kind of event was this? It couldn't be something bad, right? Was he breaking up with you? Is that why he let you use his card with no limit, to give you one final good day then he’d cut you off??? You couldn’t take the suspense anymore, you had to know. You took your phone out of your purse and called Sylus. Your phone was connected to the car’s speakers and Kieran saw that you were calling him and got a little nervous. Sylus picked up almost immediately. 
“Yes, Sweetie? What's wrong, are Luke and Kieran not treating You well, do you need me to get rid of them for you? I’ve been looking for some new Henchmen anyway” He said with a chuckle
“Hey, we’re right here you know?” Kieran said in a hurt voice
“I know, that's why I said it” “Sylus joked
“And you wouldn’t get rid of us, right boss?” Luke asked, “We’re your favourite henchmen, right?”
Sylus completely ignores Luke's question “...So why did you call sweetie? Remember when I said I was very busy today and that we’d see each other later tonight?”
You didn’t want to beat around the bush so you got straight to the point.“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to ask about, what exactly is happening tonight? What's the Special event and why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 
There was silence on the other end and then an annoyed groan. “Did you two tell her?” Sylus sounded like he was about to jump through the phone and punch both of them in the face.
“No boss we promise all she knows is that there’s an event tonight she doesn’t know anything else,” Kieran said frantically “Please don’t get rid of us”
Ignoring them again he sighed. “Where are you right now babe?”
“We were on our way to the base for lunch.” You informed him
“at least those two can do something right” he sighs. “Ok then I’ll be waiting for you at the base and I’ll explain everything.” *Click* he hangs up
Now you were even more curious, what was sylus planning?
“Do you think the boss is really gonna get rid of us?” Luke asked you in a scared voice.
“I doubt it, you guys mess up all the time and he hasn’t gotten rid of you yet, what's one more mess up” you say in a joking tone “Plus if he’s as nice as you say he is, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
Later back at the base you all walk into the living room to see Sylus sitting on the couch reading a book. “Oh, you’re back.” Sylus puts down his book and pats the space next to him for you to join him on the couch. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.” as you sit he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. He then looked up to where the twins were standing. “You two, I’ll deal with you later. Leave us be for now.”
“Yes boss.” they both say and hurriedly walk out of the room.
On the way to the base after the phone call you just couldn’t stop thinking about what this event could be and mixed with your thoughts from earlier you were only coming up with every bad result it could be. All those thoughts and emotions were boiling inside and before Sylus could say anything they overflowed “What are we?” 
“Huh?” Sylus looked confused “Sweetie, what do you mean?”
“Why do you keep avoiding me and why won't you call me your girlfriend? Apparently, you’ll say it in front of everyone else but me.” You moved back so you were out of his grip 
“Those two, I’ll fire them for sure this time,” He says under his breath.
“And what is this event? Why didn’t you tell me about it, is it about me? Did I do something wrong?” Your voice slightly cracked on the last word and your eyes started to get misty.
“Woah, slow down, if I knew it would make you feel like this I would have explained sooner.” He pulls you close again, holds your face in his palms and wipes your tears with his thumbs  “First, We are Sylus and MC the strongest and most feared couple in the N109 Zone.” He chuckled. “Second, I’m sorry that I made you feel this way. I knew you were curious but I didn’t know the curiosity would get to you this much. I wasn’t avoiding you, I’ve been setting up the special event that I’ll tell you more about in due time. But, as for your third question…” Sylus pulls your head in closer and places a soft kiss on your lips that nearly takes your breath away. He pulls away and looks at you with a smirk “You’ve also never called me your boyfriend so I guess we’re even” 
“Yeah well…I didn’t want to assume… I” You start to stutter both from the kiss and his accusation.
He stops you and places another kiss on your lips “I guess we both felt that way” 
“So then what about the event?” you’re now sitting closer to him his hands on your waist to keep you close.
“Oh yeah, the event… I was gonna let you watch while I fire Luke and Kieran. I set up events every time I want to fire one of my men, why do you think I had you keep them out of the house the whole day?” He joked.
You softly slapped his chest and rolled your eyes “ I know you’re joking those two might be idiots but you’d never fire them. Come on seriously what is it really?”
“Ok, I'll tell you, if you can tell me something first, what day is it today? He asks, hoping you’ll know the answer.
“Uh, Sunday?” you say confused as to why this day of the week had any significance.
“You can’t even remember yet you want me to call you my girlfriend,” Sylus said pretending to be offended “It’s the anniversary of when a little kitten first wandered into the N109 Zone and…” he pulls you into a hug “ into my life”
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mooooonnnzz · 5 months ago
Note
I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol
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You Know I Love You Still
Stanford x daughter!reader
💗 stanford dad hc!!
💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense
💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)
💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!
💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan
💗 a big happy family 😭
💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader
💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!
💗2k words
💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance
Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!
The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.
“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.
“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.
Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.
“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”
He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.
“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.
The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.
Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.
The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.
“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”
The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.
Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.
After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.
His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.
You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.
A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.
He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.
“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.
HEADCANON TIME!!
• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, “Is there room for one more?”
• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.
• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.
• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!
• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”
• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.
• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.
• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.
• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”
• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”
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atzloverr · 3 months ago
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Ateez as yanderes - how they fell for you
!!!TW: Yandere!!!
warnings: includes yandere themes, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, drugging, stalking, female reader, (more warnings for the individual scenarios)
yes they do vary in length but I kinda just write them as i go, it has nothing to do with how much i “like” them
and also, I could write any other scenario where they’re completely different from this, I just thought this would be fun
masterlist
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Hongjoong
cw: kidnapping, jealousy, non-con touching, college/school au
The most jealous of them all
Can’t even stand the thought of you talking to let alone looking at anyone other than him
Gets really scary when he’s angry, but tried his best to be patient when you don’t listen
Makes sure you only see him. Only touch him. Only love him. And if you refuse to do so, expect to be taught a lesson you will never even dare to forget.
Don’t worry though, he’ll gently kiss your tears away and carefully treat your wounds afterwards.
It all started when he saw you in class one day, not having really thought about you before, but he noticed how pretty you really were.
When he was grouped up with you for a project, he noticed just how kind and thoughtful you were, his little interest in you blooming into something stronger.
He didn’t know why yet, but seeing other guys at school approach you made his blood boil.
You were too good for those unworthy scum bags. Too pure. Too perfect. (He made sure to take care of them later)
Hongjoong felt himself becoming more and more obsessed with you, not a single day passing without the thought of you invading his mind.
What made Hongjoong snap was when a guy came up to you, touching you so familiarly and with such carelessness.
Seeing you laugh at this guy’s jokes, lightly touch his arm or even just bless him with your presence, made Hongjoong realize something
You needed to be protected. Your beauty needed to be savored, your skin never touched by other guys.
The only one worthy of you, was Hongjoong.
He knew what you really needed, who you really were.
He had made sure to learn all about you before finally making you his once and for all.
The two of you were meant to be together forever, and Hongjoong would never let anyone else come in between the two of you.
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Seonghwa
cw: kidnapping, bondage, stalking, blackmailing, masturbation, Seonghwa is a creep in this lol, they work at the same workplace
Seonghwa is a quiet and attentive type of yandere
Would secretly admire you from a distance for years, before even gaining the courage to speak to you
He couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees something cute or couple-like, secretly dreaming of a future shared with you.
As much as he wishes he could just approach you, he’s so scared of you disliking him in any way
And even though he seems like a sweetheart, you wouldn’t think the same if you caught him digging in your drawers, trying to find a new clothing item to bring home with him
One day, he finally approached you at work, even though you worked in completely different departments of the company.
Your eyes widened when he informed you that one of your coworkers had been fired, for acting inappropriately in the workplace.
You were really shocked, remembering how friendly he was, always telling you good morning and good bye.
Of course, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong, but Seonghwa figured the man was being way too friendly with you, almost flirting with you.
No, Seonghwa couldn’t have that, so he took matters into his own hands, blackmailing his way into getting the douchebag fired.
That man wouldn’t go near you again, Seonghwa made sure of it.
You thanked Seonghwa for the information, and got back to your own work.
You didn’t notice the way the dark haired male practically ran to the bathroom after you brief encounter, needing some type of release after finally doing what he had been wanted to do for years.
He pumped his hard cock, thinking about the way you looked at him. He had never been that close to you, he had never seen you look up into his eyes like that.
He realized that this couldn’t be it. He had to interact with you again. He couldn’t have it any other way.
After a few months had passed, you found yourself growing fond of your coworker, talking to him at work almost every day, going out to have lunch or simply meeting up to discuss work.
You didn’t think much of it, but Seonghwa sure did.
He had to admit he was proud of himself, having gotten so close to you in such a short time. He had to face his fear of approaching you, and when he did, it was the best decision of his life.
He was happy with his accomplishments, but couldn’t help but crave for more. It was so frustrating, having to act as if he barely knew you, when he in fact knew next to everything about you and your life
He knew exactly what your underwear smelled like that day when he first talked to you, and what you watched on your TV that same night.
As he got closer to you, he also got more bold with his stalking.
He started spending nights in your room, watching you closely as your chest rose and fell. He even got so far as to cuddling up to you when you were asleep, making sure you wouldn’t wake up.
But one night, you did.
Seonghwa got a little caught up in the moment as he cuddled you, moving a tad bit too much for it to go unnoticed. He didn’t notice when you slowly stirred awake, but suddenly, you let out a scream of terror at the feeling of someone in your bed.
Your wide eyes met each others, and just as you were about to question him, he put a hand over your mouth, making you squirm in panic
Seonghwa didn’t know what to do. Would this ruin everything? He couldn’t even think, but he was soon on top of you, his panicked voice trying to get you to calm down.
He could only think of one solution, that wouldn’t get him in any sort of trouble.
So here you were now, tied up in Seonghwa’s bed, a gag in your mouth, choking down all your desperate screams.
The man you once thought of as a sweet coworker, just laid next to you, hands grazing your arm in an attempt to comfort you in your time of horror.
Tomorrow, he knew what he would do.
He just hoped that your boss wouldn’t be too sad about the news of your… accident.
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Yunho
cw: possessive behavior, slut shaming, ripping clothes, I’m sorry Yunho
Yunho can still find himself reminiscing about the old times, back when you first met.
Oh, he remembers it like it was yesterday, when he saw that beautiful smile of yours for the first time.
Yunho’s friend had a birthday dinner, and when they were going over the invitations, Yunho heard a foreign name pop up.
“Y/n? Who’s that?” Yunho asked curiously, trying to search for your name in his mind, but finding nothing.
“Oh, she’s a new friend from work! I’m sure you’ll like her! She’s super friendly!” his friend explained.
Yunho never expected to feel this way when he saw you.
Unfortunately for him, he showed up a little late to the dinner due to traffic, but when he arrived his eyes immediately found yours.
He didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’, but if there was something like it, he was sure this was how it felt.
Throughout the night, he found himself drawn to you in some special way, your personalities seeming to go hand in hand. You laughed at his jokes, he laughed at yours.
After the dinner, Yunho had made one thing clear to himself.
You needed to become his. As soon as possible. So when you messaged his number that he had given you at the dinner, he found himself lighting up in joy and excitement.
You were going on a date with him.
Oh, he just couldn’t wait, to see you again, and just get to know you! He hadn’t been this interested in someone so quickly for a long time.
It didn’t take long before you and Yunho were dating. He made sure to take you out again only a few days after your first date, feeling eager to know more about you.
Everything felt perfect in your newly announced relationship.
But not for Yunho.
He couldn’t suppress it anymore. He felt so incredibly protective over you, it physically irked him to let you leave him for just a second.
As much as he tried to let you go out and have fun, it just felt so wrong. He didn’t want to be an overprotective boyfriend, but he didn’t view this as being overprotective. This felt like the bare minimum.
One night, when you got dressed to go to a friend’s party, Yunho couldn’t stop himself.
“Are you really going to dress like that?” he spat at you, almost sounding offended.
You gasped at his comment. “What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned, feeling your blood already boiling at his question. Oh, how you hated when guys acted like this.
“I mean, are you going to try to impress someone else?” he asked, still wearing that scowl on his face. You scoffed.
“I’m not having this conversation—“
“Yes you are,” Yunho raised his voice. Your eyes widened in surprise. He had seemed so sweet until now. This was a whole new version of him. One that you didn’t enjoy.
He stepped his large body in front of yours in the hallway of your apartment, pinning you against the wall.
“You have to understand,” he started, his eyes looking dark and scary. “That you’re my girlfriend now, and you can’t go around dressed like a slut anymore.”
You fought the urge to slap him across the face, and instead just barked back at him, “Excuse me!? Do you think you own me or something?”
Yunho squinted slightly.
“You know what, yes, I do.”
You were about to laugh at him, thinking that this was some sort of joke, but when he suddenly picked you up bridal style and harshly threw you down on the bed, you couldn’t mutter a single sound.
“Do you know what types of men will be there?” he asked, his hands moving down to the hem of your dress.
“How do you know that they won’t just,” he started, his hands ripping the fabric of the dress. “Touch your skin? This dress is so short, it won’t exactly be hard for them!” he argued.
You yelled at him to stop, but his hands continued tearing your dress into shreds.
You felt tears spilling out of your eyes, sobs escaping you as he exposed you in your underwear.
“You’re mine, do you understand!?” he asked, almost screaming at you.
You flinched at his anger, but forced a nod. Something changed in his gaze, making it softer once again.
“Good,” he said, his head resting on your bare stomach.
“I think you’ll stay home for tonight, hm?” he almost whispered, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
You had a rough few days ahead of you.
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Yeosang
cw: school/college au, kidnapping, non-con touching, yeosang is delusional
His love for you started as a harmless crush.
Seeing you in the corridor and finding you pretty, or just hearing your voice as you raised your hand in class made him feel shy and giggly.
It went by so quickly, and suddenly this little crush had turned into something much stronger.
He soon noticed how big of an impact you had on his life
You were the only thing on his mind every single day, and it came to a point where he couldn’t stand not seeing you, even for just a day.
He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, making sure you and him can get to know each other better, and become closer to each other.
He even started envisioning a future with you, kids and all.
Even though you had only had some brief interactions with the man, he sure valued those moments, still thinking about your sweet laugh and beautiful smile.
He knew what he had to do, scared he would go crazy if he didn’t.
One day after school, he innocently invited you over for tea, making sure you felt comfortable in his home, before drugging you and keeping you there for as long as he sees fit (probably forever)
You couldn’t understand any of it, barely even remembering speaking to the boy, but when you acted confused by his actions, he only grew angrier
“Don’t you remember that time? When you dropped your book and- and I helped you pick it up!?” he asked furiously. Your eyes widened at his words.
He was surely crazy.
Although he kidnapped you, he still felt shy around you at times, biting his lip and blushing slightly when even being in your presence
He’ll shyly cuddle up to you when you fall asleep, finally seeing you so peaceful and quiet, just how he likes you
When you scream at him, begging him to let you out, he’ll just treat it like a tantrum, putting you in ‘timeout’
He really tries to explain his feelings to you, only thinking that it’s rational for him to protect you
He “only does it out of love” and gets so frustrated when you can’t understand that.
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San
cw: reader likes to party, reader gets drunk, kidnapping, stalking, jealousy, possessive behavior
You caught his eye in a bar one night, wearing a tight dress, showing off your body in a way that turned everyone’s eyes towards you
San was no exception, his gaze plastered on you the entire night, as you got more and more drunk
He had to keep an eye on you, making sure that no creep would try to make a move on you or hand you a spiked drink
When the end of the night came, none of your friends were with you anymore, so you were far from safe on your own
San approached you, steadying you with his strong arms, causing you to lean on his frame
He could tell you were confused, and decided to introduce himslef
“My name is San, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to find your unfocused gaze
You muttered out your name, your breath reeking of alcohol.
San smiled kindly, and sat you down on a barstool, still keeping his steady arms around you
“You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his kind eyes making you feel an immediate sense of comfort.
“Yes please,” you muttered out.
As he gave you a piggyback ride home, you slurred out a small ‘thank you’.
San couldn’t hold his smile at your cute behavior, looking at your face as you almost fell asleep at his shoulder
Oh how things were changed now.
Ever since that night, San had found himself missing you, even though you only met when you were drunk
He made sure to give you his number, telling you to call him if you needed anything, however, you hadn’t reached out again.
San felt himself getting angrier by every moment. Didn’t you value that night you had together? I mean, he took you home and took care of you when you literally couldn’t even walk.
He knew you meant no harm though, no, his little sweetheart would never try to hurt his feelings.
San decided that he couldn’t handle thinking about you like this anymore, so one night, he decided to find where you were, using different means to find out what you were going to be doing this weekend.
He wasn’t surprised that you were going to another party, so he decided to get himself invited as well.
What he never expected, was to see you with some dude, making out in the corner of a room as if you had no shame
His eye twitched in rage, but he knew he had to be patient.
When the party was finally over, you were of course, drunk again, and he decided that this was the perfect time to make his move.
“H-hey, have we met?” you laughed, almost falling into his arms as you approached him.
San only smirked.
“Come with me and I’ll tell you,” he smiled. If this had been anyone else, you would never had agreed to it, but something in you told you to trust this man.
You found yourself leaning against a tree, no other people in sight, except for the handsome man standing before you.
“Tell me,” you commanded, your words still slurring together.
“Oh don’t worry, I will,” he said, before you felt a harsh pain in your head, and you fell down to the ground.
You couldn’t scream, you could only slowly fade away into unconsciousness as the man slowly picked you up.
Plastering a few kisses to your head, he smiled, way to innocently for what he was doing.
“Finally I can take you home, my little bunny.”
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Mingi
cw: implied kidnapping, best friends to (lovers), possessive behavior, drugging, jealousy
Mingi had been your best friend ever since back in high school
You still remember how he would beg you to hang out after school, telling you that you were going to ‘study’, just to lure you in to a mario kart tournament
You were so thankful to have such a sweet friend by your side, always supporting you when you needed it the most, and serving as a pillar in your life when everything else seemed to go downhill
Mingi had made sure that’s what you viewed him as. The reliable friend who would never fail you.
He had to make sure you loved and trusted him more than anyone else
At first, he thought it was just a friendly affection he held towards you. When he felt his fists clench in anger when you talked to others, he just thought of it as a will to protect you, his friend
But now he was sure it was more than that.
During all of these years, he watched as boy after boy failed you. He couldn’t help but feel a small wave of excitement when you came crying in his arms, telling him that you got failed again.
As much as he hated seeing you so sad, he just loved that you always seemed to come crawling back to him.
Well, that was, until now.
Mingi watched carefully through your window, making sure his loud breaths of anger weren’t heard by you and your new ‘boyfriend’.
As much as he loved hearing your moans, he couldn’t stand them when it was because of some other dude.
The only ones valuable enough to touch your sweet body, were you and him. Anyone else pleasuring you deserved hell.
So when Mingi heard you moan out this new guy’s name in ecstasy, he felt sick to his stomach.
He waited and waited for this guy to show his true colors, and break up with you.
Mingi hadn’t seen it yet, but he was sure this guy had a bad side too. Even if he was kind to you, Mingi knew that this guy wasn’t the one.
Because Mingi was the one.
He had to make sure he was, even if it would take time for you to realize it.
Seriously, how dense were you? Mingi thought. How couldn’t you notice his love towards you? Did all those tender moments of affection mean nothing to you?
One night, Mingi decided that you had spent enough time with your boyfriend. This had to end, before it escalated into something bigger. He didn’t even want to think about you two moving in together, getting a dog, having kids…
No! He had to do something about it. He wanted to try talking about it with you first, so when you came over to spend the night, Mingi decided to ask you about it.
“Y/n, this new guy, he…” Mingi started, avoiding your gaze. “New? We’ve been dating for months!” you laughed. “But yeah, what about him?”
Mingi felt so tingly when you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, so he couldn’t even meet them, scared that he might let out some inappropriate noise.
“Well, is he really the one?” he asked, looking down to the floor.
You stared dumbfounded at him, but continued to play it off as mere curiosity from your friend.
“Yeah, I think he might be.”
You had to admit Mingi was acting strange. His gaze was unfocused, as he grumbled something incoherent.
You dismissed the conversation, and swiftly changed the subject.
“So, how’s it going for Yunho? I heard he got a new job?…”
Mingi couldn’t focus on your words right now, as much as he wanted to hear your beautiful voice.
You were clearly serious about this guy, so talking you out of it wouldn’t work. You trusted your boyfriend way too much, and raising your suspicions would take way too long.
He had to go through with plan B, as much as he hated it.
You lay down next to Mingi on the couch, carelessly sipping your drink. You had decided to put on a movie, and as much as you loved this movie, you couldn’t help but feel sleepy already.
You found yourself slowly dozing off on Mingi’s shoulder, your body feeling weak suddenly.
You tried to form words, but felt too tired to even speak. You barely even noticed as Mingi’s strong arms swiftly picked you up.
He finally met your gaze, after what had felt like an eternity. To your surprise, his expression showed nothing but sadness.
“I’m sorry Y/n,” he said, walking into his bedroom. “But it’s for the best.”
After hearing the distinct sound of the door closing and locking, you found yourself lulled into a deep slumber, tucked under Mingi’s soft sheets, his arms cradling your body.
When you were finally fast asleep, Mingi took the opportunity, and told you the three sacred words he had been holding back from you for all these years.
“I love you.”
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Wooyoung
cw: cheating, stalking, taking photos without consent, implied kidnapping, manipulation, masturbation
Wooyoung will get what he wants, no matter the cost
Even if that means ruining years of friendship, and breaking your heart in the process, he had to do the necessary things to get you
Breaking your heart wouldn’t even be the hardest part, after all, he wouldn’t mind breaking you completely, just so he could build you anew.
Wooyoung and his best friend were inseparable, it was well known for everyone they knew
Being childhood best friends, Wooyoung was sure nothing could ever come in between their bond
That was, until you entered the picture
Wooyoung was more than excited to hear that his friend had gotten a new girlfriend, and he couldn’t wait to meet the girl, having heard such good things about her
His jaw dropped when his gaze met your form
You were stunning
He had to raise his eyebrows at his best friend, as if saying ‘damn, how did you manage to get that?’
As you politely shook his hand and introduced yourself, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice something
You were way too good for his best friend
Even though they were good friends, he couldn’t deny that this guy wasn’t the nicest to girls, looking back at his past girlfriends, who basically all ended up cheated on by him.
Although his relationships usually ended within the first few weeks, two months had now passed since Wooyoung’s friend met you.
It had gone unnoticed by you, but for these two months, Wooyoung had gotten incredibly smitten by you
He found himself looking forward to seeing you, and would use any excuse possible to get you alone with him
You were just so much better off without his friend.
Without that guy, you could be your interesting and authentic self without being held back.
As smart as you were, Wooyoung knew you weren’t that bright. You didn’t even notice when he snuck his phone under the table to take a quick snap into your skirt, or when he always managed to end up in weird positions with you when he “fell asleep.”
At night, Wooyoung would desperately hump into a pillow while listening to an audio of your voice, imagining you laying right beneath him.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he had waited long enough.
Luckily, he knew exactly how he would manage to pull this off.
He happened to know his best friend a little too well.
One night, Wooyoung invited you two to a party as plus twos, begging you to go, telling you just how fun it was going to be.
You fell for his cute little smile as he blinked at you, asking you to pleeease come with him.
He smirked when you finally said yes, slowly making his way to his end goal.
He had to execute this perfectly, making sure he would be portrayed as the hero, and your boyfriend as the villain.
Well at the party, you found yourself sitting in a corner of the room, laughing and dancing to the music. Wooyoung had for some reason insisted you were going to hang out at that specific spot for a while.
After a little while, Wooyoung snaked a hand around your waist, telling you to go have a drink with him.
He gave you and your boyfriend that classic innocent smile, feeding onto the illusion that he was someone with no ill intent whatsoever.
When you took off, Wooyoung quickly fished out his phone from his pocket, sending a message.
Wooyoung made it so that he could still keep an eye on your boyfriend, while you stood opposite from him, not having any idea of what was happening behind you.
While you two chatted away, your tipsy state making you talkative, Wooyoung watched as the girl slowly approached your boyfriend
He studied the way she slowly sat down on your boyfriend’s lap, who had already managed to get way too drunk
Right when he could tell she was about to make her move, he smiled at you.
“Let’s go back to your boyfriend, shall we?”
As you turned around, Wooyoung’s arm still holding your waist, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise
Were you really seeing things clearly?
As you slowly walked closer to them, you realized that this was no illusion
There your boyfriend sat, some girl on top of him, making out with him passionately, his hands roaming her barely dressed body
Your legs suddenly felt weak, but Wooyoung kept you on your feet
“Oh my god, Y/n,” Wooyoung breathed out sadly, holding you closer. “I’m so sorry…”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you stepped even closer to the two, seeing the way her hands guided his as she practically grind on his lap.
You didn’t want to believe your eyes, but you had to.
Suddenly, your body was turned around, and you were dragged out of the room. In what felt like a matter of seconds, you were outside, Wooyoung’s arms wrapped tightly around your shivering body
You sobbed quietly into the fabric of his jacket, as his hand found your hair.
“Shh it’s okay Y/n,” he comforted, slowly rocking you back and forth. “How about you sleep at my place tonight, hm?”
You nodded violently into his shoulder, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
What you never saw, was the way Wooyoung smiled in satisfaction, sending the girl a last message.
“You can back off from him now, I’ll pay you tomorrow.”
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Jongho
cw: implied kidnapping, stalking, non-con kissing, mentions of weight loss, obsessive behavior
The first time Jonho saw you was at an art gallery, slowly inspecting the art pieces as you walked by them
As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on the art, you were the only thing he could keep his attention on
You stood there in your long dress, modest but oh so tempting, staring at the painting before you in a lonesome awe
He found himself being drawn to you. It was something about your energy.
“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice, walking up to you, still keeping you at a respectful distance, but close enough to make the conversation private.
“It’s interesting. The artist has done a really great job at portraying the beauty in the horror of her expression,” you said, eyes not wavering from the painting in front of you.
The unknown man next to you just hummed in agreement, but in reality, he wasn’t even looking at the painting. He had seen it earlier, so he knew exactly what you meant.
The painting depicted a woman, watching in terror as an unknown creature tries to attack her. Amidst of the scenery, there is a beauty, that not everyone could understand.
You understood exactly what was intended in the piece, making Jongho feel nothing but excitement bubble up inside of him.
“What’s your name?” you asked, averting your gaze towards the man. His eyes widened slightly before he answered.
“Choi Jongho,” he answered, smiling warmly at you.
You introduced yourself as well, bowing slightly.
After about an hour, you and Jongho had been chatting away about the various art pieces in the gallery, discussing your interpretations.
You were impressed at Jongho’s open minded approach, making you feel comfortable when you didn’t even know the man.
Having to say goodbye felt sad to you, and as much as you wanted to ask him for his number, you just couldn’t find the courage.
Ever since you parted that day, you had been the only thing on the man’s mind. He tried to recall every single word you said about each peace, wanting to imagine your voice uttering the words of pure intellect and interest.
When going to other galleries, Jongho always hoped to see you once again, but he never found you.
He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to know what you were up to. Were you avoiding him? Or did you simple lose interest in art? No, that couldn’t be. The way you spoke so fondly about it showed that art meant a lot to you.
Jongho had to find out. So he did the necessary thing to do so.
He simply used his computer skills to find out more about you. He had your name, so with enough time and effort, he would surely find you.
And indeed, he did find you.
When he saw your picture pop up on his computer screen, he felt a jolt of joy.
He found out everything he needed to know, and the next day, he was making a phone call to have flowers delivered to your door.
He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to them, waiting patiently at his hiding spot.
When your form finally came into view, Jongho felt himself stiffen up.
You didn’t look like yourself.
You had clearly lost weight, looking pale and tired. Your eyes were barely even opened as you inspected the bouquet of flowers.
You picked them up, and then quickly entered your apartment again, quickly closing the door
Jongho was at a loss for words.
This wasn’t how he remembered you. You weren’t this lifeless last time. You hadn’t looked so empty of emotion, so distant.
With your recent appearance, you now invaded Jongho’s mind more than ever before.
What had happened to you since last time? Jongho had to find out.
After hours of digging, he still couldn’t find anything. No traumatic past events. No dead family member. Nothing.
After sending you another bouquet, once again watching you from his hiding spot, he couldn’t bare it anymore.
Seeing you like this physically hurt him. He felt his heart clench at the mere sight of your weak self, and he needed to take care of things.
So the third time he sent you flowers, he decided to give them to you personally.
He breathed in and out heavily, waiting for you to appear at the door. It took you way too long for his liking to finally open the door, revealing your even more malnourished self, dressed in pajamas even though it was midday.
“Jongho?” your voice sounded out, your eyes widened slightly.
He smiled fondly at your memory of his name. So you did remember the meeting you had.
“Hello, Y/n,” he greeted, handing you the flowers. You blinked at the gesture.
“Are you the one who—“ you started, but Jongho had other plans.
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed when he invited himself in, stepping past you, and into your chaos of a home.
You tried to protest, but he just gave you a stern look. You were so confused at his attitude. What happened to that respectful man you had met at the gallery?
“What’s going on? You look tired, Y/n,” Jongho asked, voice laced with concern.
You gasped slightly at his familiarity, almost feeling insulted by the sudden question.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you what’s going on? How did you find out where i live? And what are you doing here in the first place?” you raised your voice, pointing at him.
The look in his eyes remained unchanged, a small frown on his lips at your questions.
“That’s not what really matters, Y/n. What’s happened to you?” he asked, giving you that pitiful look you hated.
The way he kept repeating your name didn’t fail to make you uncomfortable.
You backed away from him slightly, dropping the bouquet, but was suddenly grabbed by the wrist by an iron-like grip.
“Answer me, Y/n,” he demanded, a stern look in his eye.
You squirmed in his grip, spitting insults at him, but it was like you had no effect on him.
Soon, it just led to him being pinned over you on your couch, his hands on either side of your head.
Your eyes were wide in fear, and you felt forced to answer the question he had been urging you to answer for the past agonizing minutes.
“Okay, okay! I got dumped, okay!?” you yelled at him, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
He froze, but soon regained composure. “So what? That’s no reason for you to destroy yourself,” he stated. You blinked at his audacity.
“You have no idea what I’ve had to go through—“
A kiss.
That’s what interrupted your answer of rage. A slow, but firm kiss on your lips. You couldn’t even find the energy to fight him off, already being weak as it was.
When he finally disconnected from you, tears had started streaming down your face.
His hands found your cheeks, wiping the warm tears away.
“Don’t worry Y/n,” he tried to comfort you. “I’ll never make you go through something like that again.”
You shook your head in confusion.
“With me, you’ll be happy. I’ll make sure everything gets back to normal again,” he cooed, eyes inspecting your face.
“Now, let’s go home, shall we? This place probably just reminds you of him.”
Hope you enjoyed!!! Requests are open
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months ago
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this has been sittin in my drafts for so long lol
chewing my fingers off like bubble gum thinking about childhood best friend katsuki scaring off all the other guys he thinks have a crush on you bc in his mind you’re already dating. (he’s also too shy to ask you out.)
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in his defense, you’ve been together for so long you might as well be dating. katsuki prides himself in the fact he knows quite literally everything about you : how you like your eggs, what you like on your toast, your favorite tv show and movie, not to be confused with your comfort movie, which he also knows. your exact order from the coffee shop down the street from your apartment complex and your favorite flavor of chapstick. he knows all of these little things and even other insignificant facts by heart, but he’s so proud of the fact that those other pricks could never know you better than he does.
he bets those losers who ogle you like cavemen don’t even remember your name, lest they even know it in the first place. just thinking about you dating anyone that isn’t him makes him grimace, has him gritting his teeth n’ veins popping.
he damn near acts like your boyfriend too and it’s definitely not by accident. katsuki knows he wants you and he wants you—and others to know he does, too. he walks you to and from class, drapes his arm around your shoulder, makes you lunch and he’s overall just very clingy. you’ve had to explain multiple times that he in fact was not your boyfriend, much to your chagrin. (and his too) simply claiming you’re really close because you’ve known each other since you were in diapers. katsuki calls bullshit, ever since he was 5 he knew you were the one for him. he’d go around telling your parents you’d get married when you both grew up and he sure as hell plans to keep his word.
and katsuki knows it’s bad, he knows he shouldn’t, but he waits for the guy he seen you talking with after school. he’s been talking to you more often, even offering to walk you to class, so fuckin’ chivalrous. thankfully for him, you didn’t seem to like him much.
“hey.” he grunts, placing a hand on the guy’s shoulder, watching his face contort as steam comes out of from under his hand “yn doesn't like you, fuckface. so i suggest ya back off an’ quit whatever the fuck you’re tryin’ to do with her.” he’s gripping onto his shoulder harder unconsciously and the guy tries brushing him off, sputtering and desperately looking for an excuse and katsuki’s having none of it. “listen.” he growls “cut the bullshit. i know you want her, can tell from a mile away ya fuckin’ do.” he snarls, lip curling up in disgust “ but do that shit from a distance, f’ i see you lookin’ at her like that again i’ll knock your fuckin’ teeth in."
he shoves the guy away and he’s already off like nothing happened. he’s already wasted enough time with this loser and he can’t wait to see you because tonight’s movie night and he knows you’ll just watch your favorite movie for the umpteenth time, but he really couldn’t care less, whatever makes his baby happy.
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