#And I'm enjoying the colours this ended up with

[woso-dreamzzz]

Photoshoot

Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: Your new photoshoot

"Mapi? Mapi? Are you alright? What are you looking at?"

"I...What?"

"What are you looking at?"

Mapi slams her phone back into her bag, letting out an awkward chuckle as she tries (and fails) to act casual. "Look at? I'm not looking at anything!"

Irene gives her a look of disbelief, eyes glancing to the bag that Mapi had none of subtly shoved her phone into. "Really? You're going to lie to me?"

"Lying? Who's lying? Cata again?"

Irene sighs. "We're really doing this?"

"Doing what? We're doing nothing! Nothing at all!"

"I'm...I'm going to go..."

Mapi watches as Irene walks away, heading over to talk to Alexia and Marta at the other end of the locker room.

"Wow," Mapi says," That was close."

"And not at all inconspicuous," Ingrid says with a laugh and an eye roll at her side," What were you looking at?"

The tips of Mapi's ears go bright red and Ingrid instantly knows what was on her girlfriend's phone.

"It's out?"

Mapi nods. "It's out."

Ingrid clears her throat and (much more casually than Mapi) whips out her phone. She leans against the lockers and, if it wasn't for Mapi very clearly staring at the screen next to her, it would just look like she was texting.

It takes all of ten seconds for Ingrid to get the photos up, even less time to scroll through and select her favourite.

"Well..." Her throat suddenly feels dry, bobbing a few times as her eyes dilate. "That's...That's completely unfair..."

"Right? It's so unfair she kept this from us! We usually always get the preview!"

"She did say she had a surprise for us..."

The image of you stares back at them both, hooded eyes and bottom lip captured between your teeth. Your face says 'fuck me' and clearly your body says that too, wrapped in scraps of lace that Ingrid is kind of surprised is defying gravity.

She scrolls to the next photo.

Another picture of you in scraps of lingerie, that familiar look in your eyes that your girlfriends always see when they've got your bent over in the living room.

Ingrid scrolls again.

A different set of lingerie. A different position. A very familiar look.

"Is this a brand deal or our personal photoshoot?" Mapi dares to ask as Ingrid swipes through them.

"If it was personal," Ingrid says," She'd be wearing a lot less. And-"

She looks over at some of the other girls in the locker room and lets her statement hang.

Some of the younger girls on the team are crowded around Pina and her phone and Ingrid automatically knows what they're looking at.

It's an open secret in the team that if Cata, Pina and the others have a favourite model, it's you. They all follow you on every piece of social media you have. They all like your photos and they all wait for your photoshoots to drop.

"Wow," Cata whistles and Mapi begins imagining what pictures she's seen.

The one with the soft backlighting? Or the one where you're bent over a table with your cleavage on show? Or, perhaps, it's the one with a finger in your mouth and your best bedroom eyes?

Mapi isn't quite sure.

There's so many to choose from.

"She looks so hot," Pina agrees.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Don't you?" Pina fires back and both she and Cata laugh.

A knock sounds at the door before the playful teasing descends into playful shoving which will, ultimately, end up with one of them knocking into Caro or Aitana or someone they really shouldn't.

"Girls," Carla pokes her head through the door with her phone already up and ready for content," You've got a guest."

If Mapi hadn't just been subjected to Cata and Pina getting all hot and bothered over your body, she might have found it funny the way the colour drains from their faces as you step through the door - not a hair out of place.

"I...er..."

Ingrid, however, doesn't seem to have the same hang ups. She actively enjoys the panic setting into Cata and Pina's faces when you arrive. She actively enjoys the way Cata's phone goes flying up into the air in panic at the thought of you finding out what they'd been looking at.

"Hello?" Pina says weakly.

"Hi," You answer with a smile before you're crossing the room elegantly and standing in front of Mapi and Ingrid," Hello, my loves."

The locker room is largely silent - whether it be stunned silence or just so the others can eavesdrop - as you press kisses upon both Mapi and Ingrid's lips.

"I forgot to give you something before you left earlier."

"Was it the kiss?" Mapi asks, dazed and unbelievably happy by what she just received.

"No but that's always a welcome addition," You tease," But this is what I actually wanted to give you both."

A small polaroid picture is pressed into Ingrid's palm and another into Mapi's. You capture your bottom lip in your teeth like you did in your new photoshoot and wink.

"It was so nice to meet you all," You say as you turn and wave to all of their teammates," We'll all have to go out for a meal at some point! I'll pay of course! My loves, I'll see you at the end of the match."

You probably say something else as well.

You probably take a few pictures with the team.

There's probably a shirt with your name on it that Carla gives you.

You probably end up posing with Alexia to have a photo of you holding it.

A lot of things probably happen but Ingrid and Mapi don't fully realise it.

Because they stare at the pictures in their hands.

Gone are the scraps of lingerie but the teasing look on your face is still there.

The poses are still the same, showing off your bare body perfectly.

The imprint of your lipstick covered lips - bright red, your favourite shade - are displayed proudly at the bottom of each photo, right next to the words you've written.

A warmup for tonight, my loves xxx

[realcube]

DRINK LIKE THE BANDS!

SENDAI FROGS BAND AU! in which you are their fav groupie <3

tws/tags → kyoutani, koganegawa, tsukishima x reader. NSFW MINORS DNI. alcohol, smoking, cursing, pda, fourway (except they don't really have sex with each other, just you), vaginal, oral (receiving & giving), anal, breeding, degradation, praise, impact play, overstimulation, slight daddy kink & slutshaming

note → inspired by this delicious fanart. smut is labelled if you want to skip to it. word count: 10.6k

your fingers frantically dart over your phone keyboard as you spam the groupchat, desperate for a reply or at least some acknowledgement.

laboured breaths heaved out of you while your eyes rapidly shift around, scanning your environment for your friends or anybody that could help you but even if they were nearby, your brain was too clouded with panic to fully process what you were seeing and all the moving bodies surrounding you.

and it was completely reasonable to be troubled in this situation, since your friends have abandoned you in a random club that you've never been to before. to make things worse, you had come on the busiest night of the week, meaning there was a sea of people bustling around and clogging up the venue and your friends could be lost among them.

however, you have an inkling as to where they might be.

before you lost them, your whole friendgroup were on the floor, enjoying the music of the rock band that was performing; dancing and singing along. your group had agreed that you were going to buy more drinks inbetween sets, so as soon as the sendai frogs had finished, they were all eager to head over to the bar.

that was, until you informed them you needed to use the bathroom. although they claimed there was no issue in coming with you, clearly they must have grew impatient, as they weren't outside waiting for you like they promised.

considering how keen they were to get their drinks, you're confident that you'll be able to find them ordering at the bar. that certainty puts your mind at ease for only a moment, before you realise — with how conjested it is — it would be virtually impossible to go anywhere. there was a wall of sweaty bodies that you'd have to penetrate with brute force, in addition to the overall darkness that left you unable to see where the bar even is.

this instilled a familiar sense of panic in you, but with whatever courage you're able to muster from the remnents of alcohol in your system, you persevere and lauch yourself forward into the crowd.

only to immediately be pushed around like a ragdoll and elbowed in any and every appendage you have. your drunken balance didn't do much to help you either, so naturally, it wasn't long before a dancing patron sent you stumbling backward, about to fall onto your ass if it weren't for a pair of arms that hook under your shoulders and stable you just in time.

your eyes widen at the touch, and once you stand up, you immediately spin around on your heels to see who caught you. it's hard to make out their features under the flickering, multi-coloured lights of the club, but you could tell it was a tall guy with brushy brows and a dyed stripe at the front of his hair.

" 'm so sorry!" you cover your mouth with your hands in embarassment, despite having to scream your apology due to the loud music.

"don't worry about it! you okay? you look worried." he says with a toothy smile, hand resting on your shoulder. his touch is reassuring so it doesn't bother you; especially as you were too consumed by humiliation to pay any mind to it.

"i'm fine, just looking for my friends." though you yell the first part, your voice begins to trail off closer to the end of the sentence, hence he crouches slightly so he can hear you better.

"lost?" he confirms what you said, brows furrowed togehter in confusion.

you simply nod, and he straightens himself, surveying his surroundings as though he would be able to find them, or even know what they look like, "how'd you lose them?"

you shrug. the stress of the situation coupled with the overwhelming atmosphere had your eyes pricking with tears, as you croak, "i came out the bathroom and they were just gone."

the guy scrunches his face, and leans in closer to you as he yells, "what?!"

the live music was deafening yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder, partially due to the tears threatening to spill from your eyes but also since you've already been screaming all night and are beginning to lose your voice.

despite your burning throat, you repeat what you said as loud as you can into this guy's ear, but he still shakes his head with a pout, "sorry, doll. can't hear you." he briefly looks around before he motions for you to come with him.

you follow, and in doing so you realise he must be a far more experienced club-goer than yourself, as he is able to use one arm to efficently ward off the other chaotic bodies and weave his way through the crowd, while the other arm is wrapped around your shoulders to protectively hold you close to his chest.

eventually you reach the bar area which is a lot further away from the stage so the music is far quiter, so you can finally hear yourself think.

however, once you glance around, you see how long the bar is. the end isn't even within your range of sight, so searching the whole length for your friends was going to prove to be challenging. but for now, you focus on the nice man who brought you off the dancefloor.

the lighting in this area is more ambient, with less strobes obstructing your view, so when you turned to look at him again, you were able to properly soak up all of his features, and it finally dawns on you that the guy you've ran into was the lead singer of the rock band that was playing right before you got seperated from your friends.

the sendai frogs, you think they were called. by no means were they absolute legends or rockstars; in fact, the first time you had ever heard of them was tonight, so they were definitely closer to being a small indie band. still, they made amazing music and you greatly admired their stage presense — also, he was pretty fucking hot.

so perhaps you weren't star-struck, but you were definitely pleasantly surprised and curious.

and that was made evident by the look on your face, which he thankfully didn't see because he was busy securing a seat at the bar and calling over the bartender.

he beckons for you to join him, but there are no other available seats next to him, so you simply stand awkwardly behind his stool while he orders, "one beer and.." he twists his body around to stare at you.

not expecting him to buy your drink as well, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, "a vodka coke, please?"

he whips around in his chair and proclaims to the bartender, "and one vodka coke!"

they nod, and scuttle off to make your drinks. while the guy, whose name you remember to be koganegawa from his performance earlier, eagerly encourages you to sit down and make yourself comfortable.

"uh, there's no seats." you point out shyly, at which he raises his eyebrows and double-checks the surrounding area. even for some nearby chairs that you could perhaps drag over, but as you originally suggested, there were zero.

"huh. that's alright." his demeanour quickly shifts from defeated to regularly perky, as he slips his hands around your waist and gently guides you onto his lap.

you defintely weren't expecting it, but you couldn't say you were opposed either. getting this kind of attention from such a cute guy who is also in rock band doesn't come often. and there's something about his manner that's so smooth and sweet; perhaps it was that honeyed smile that made his wandering hands playful and not perverse.

sat pretty on his lap, his hazel eyes carefully scan up and down your figure, with his head lazily resting on his arm that's propped up on the bar. "you okay to sit here?" he asks and when you nod quietly, he secures your place on him by letting his spare hand run idly across your back, getting dangerously low at certain points. "so what was it you were saying about your friends?"

"they said they'd wait for me to come out the bathroom but they left without me instead."

"right. that's not cool." he muses, making an attempt to sympathise with you but it was hard to take him seriously when he couldn't even bring himself to make eye-contact with you, as his gaze were focussed elsewhere. "and what's your name?"

"(y/n). and yours?" you know his name, yet you ask him, to be polite.

"kanji." he utters, shameless ogling only faltering when the bartender finshes making your drink, and sets down an open bottle of beer for koganegawa and your vodka coke in a plastic cup. they also dispose of the empty beer bottle that kanji had been in posession of and left on the bar.

he grins at you when the beverages arrive, and doesn't waste any time in taking a swift gulp. not as keen as him, you also turn around to pick yours up and take a couple sips, but in doing so — since you are positioned with your back against the bar — you had to do a little bit of shuffling upon his lap, and the friciton only makes him grow more restless.

"(y/n) is a cute name, y'know." he slurs between gulps, and before you can even get a word in to thank him, he continues, "and your friends are idiots for leaving you alone at a club. that's so not girl-code."

you snicker at his observation, "what do you know about girl-code?"

"i know it means not to abandon your friend at a busy venue in the middle of the night! that's so dangerous; any random guy could come along and try to take you away." at first his tone resembles that of genuine concern, but as he speaks it devolves into clear irony and sarcasm, which is furthered by a teasing grab at your thigh.

"take me away to where?" you joke, while leaning into him, shortening the gap between you two. there's thick chemistry in the air, and that made obvious by how neither of you are particularly aware of what you're saying, and are focused on each other. his gaze flicker between your lips and eyes, filled with longing. you can tell he wants nothing more than a taste of your sweet skin, and the same is true for you.

"uh, i don't know. wherever they take hot girls."

you both laugh at his outrangeous suggestion, so hard that you find yourself limp against his chest. into his shirt, you mutter, "i wish." in reference to the part where he called you a 'hot girl', as you certainly didn't feel cute after being battered around callously like a leaf in a tornado.

while koganegawa's face screwed up with confusion, "huh?"

"i wish." you repeat, taking another sip of your drink.

"sorry." he sighs, slumping back in his chair and resting an arm behind his head, "can't hear you."

his tone was enigmatic, thus it was impossible to decipher as genuine or sarcastic, but his intentions are revealed as his lips pull into a smile of unmistakable lasciviousness.

you scoff, unamused and turn away from him, but he's quick to use your waist to angle you back towards him, hand wandering up your spine in the process, "i'm kidding, babe." he reassures you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he can lean in and whisper, "but why don't you come with me somewhere quieter?"

"where's that?" you ask meekly and he pulls away, but stops as his lips are inches away from yours.

"backstage." his hot breath tickles your skin, and the way his big hands possessively caress your body makes for an offer you can't refuse.

the instant you utter a word of agreement he's already scooped you up in his arms and carrying you bridal towards the side of the club, shoving past anyone that dare step in his road with a fiery vigour you typically only see in the marines.

all the way in the corner, there is a black door, signposted as 'performers only' and he puts you down so he can fumble with his ring of keys and try to unlock it.

eventually, he does and the door creaks open, and he invites you through. once you're on the other side, he clumsily tries to lock the door behind him, which gives you enough time to absorb your surroundings.

there isn't much. just a short hallway, with two other doors on the opposite wall: one was labelled as a bathroom while the other was unclear. at the left end of the hall, there was a bulky fire-exit door that was propped open, letting gusts of cool air waft inside, causing your hairs to stand on end. the fresh air, despite the chilliness, was a pleasant relief to the stuffiness and disgusting odor in the club area.

the door was being held open by a tall blonde guy, with rectangle glasses who you recognise as the bass guitarist from the sendai frogs, the same band koganegawa was in. his weight was pressed against the door as he smoked a cigarette; staring outside, he didn't even aknowledge the two of you entering.

though kanji didn't pay any mind to him either. as soon as he was done locking the door to the club, he moved to the unlabelled door on the opposite side of the hallway and attempted to unlock that. he had lots of keys to choose from but after five minutes of trying, he huffed, "fucks' sake, which one is it?!"

that is when tsukishima — you remembered his name too — decided to chime in. without making eye-contact, he remarked while exhaling a wispy puff of smoke, "we don't have the key, remember? kyoutani took it."

koganegawa's jaw fell upon recollection of this information, letting out a dramatically prolonged groan, in contrast to tsukishima who was completely unbothered.

"damn it.." koganegawa mutters, nervously rubbing the side of his face, "do you know where he is?"

"if i did, do you think i'd be standing out here?"

koganegawa grunted at his snide response then rushed back, placing his hand on your shoulder while he unlocked the door to the club, "wait here, doll. i'll be right back." he left you with a quick peck on the cheek before he ran out in the club area, presumably to search for kyoutani, leaving you alone in the empty hallway with tsukishima, who only now cared to look over at you. needless to say, he was intrigued.

maybe it was a the alcohol or the lustful high you were on, but you were feeling cheery enough to strike up a conversation with other blond you were left with. especially since you didn't know how long koganegawa would be gone for, "uh, are you kanji's bandmate?"

he stared at you through his lenses, and when you spoke he narrowed his eyes, "can't hear you." he said monotonely, shifting his gaze back onto the damp streets outside.

"oh." his statement was worrying as you were less than eight feet away from him, and the blaring music had been nullified now that you were in a seperate area, hence you could hear him just fine. but there was a chance being on stage with all the speakers and intruments might've taken a toll on his hearing, so you do him the courtesy of not questioning it and moving towards him, until you were standing right against the frame of the fire-exit.

now that you were closer, your senses were overwhelmed by the ashy smell of his second-hand smoke, mixed with the bitter cold of the outside air; it took everything in you not to cough.

additionally, you were able to properly see into the streets now, and they were as sobering as you anticipated. the fire-exit lead into a random allayway, with a nearby dumpster that was overflowing with garbage. to the point there were shattered glass bottles scattered across the ground nearby.

the moon must've been out too but you couldn't see it from where you were standing. you could tell tsukishima could see it though; you think you can see the reflection of the celestial body in his brown eyes. and only the moonlight could illuminate his features in such a heavenly way.

"i just asked if you are kanji's bandmate." you clarified.

"didn't you see us perform together earlier?" he doesn't look at you.

"yeah, i did. your songs ar—" just as you were about to recount your experience of watching their set from the crowd, tsukishima cuts you off.

"then why are you asking if i'm his bandmate?"

your eyes widen at his sharp words; from the way he conversed with koganegawa, you picked up on the fact he was a bit snarky, but you were under the impression it was likely banter between friends and that he would treat you — a non-friend — a bit nicer. but you couldn't have been more wrong.

your throat dried up and you were at a complete loss, unsure of a possible response to such a nasty quip. it worried you that he might have said that with the intention of leaving you speechless so you wouldn't talk to him any longer; rockstars do have a reputation of being divas, but he certainly hasn't reached 'star' status yet, so you wonder who gave him the right to behave like one.

while you were being troubled by such notions, in direct contradiction to his original attitude, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and flicks it open, "want one?" he offers in a characteristically dry manner.

it did puzzled you as to how he could follow up such venom with a innocuous gesture; the duality was shocking, but you were far too drunk to think about it for too long. instead, you carefully remove a cigarette from the pack and hum, "thank you."

in swift succession, he lights it for you, then goes right back to staring at the moon in silence. strings of smoke drift out of his nose to mingle with the icy night air, and once it dissipates, he unhurriedly brings the cigarette back up to his lips for another long draw.

mimicking his action, you inhale like he does, which directly leads to a coughing and spluttering mess as your lungs react to the volume of conjestive fumes. your eyes prick with tears and you swat your hand around in order to clear the cloud of smoke around you, and to add insult to injury, through your watery gaze you see a smug smirk plastered on tsukishima's face.

"slow down. these are reds." he remarks, clearly with the intention to mock you because if he really wanted to help, that advice would've been useful before you took a draw.

when the fresh air in your lungs offsets the smoke, you're able to catch your breath, and the first thing you do is reply: "you seem like an expert."

though you meant that as an insult, tsukishima evidently didn't deem it as one, and may not have picked up on your malicious intent either, as he simply shrugs and keeps his eyes locked onto the sky. "eh. anyone would look like an expert standing next to you." amused by his own joke, greyed puffs of mist exit his nostrils with each dry chuckle. noticing that you're not laughing, just gawking at him with your big dumb eyes, he spits, "what are you looking at?"

"you look really nice in this light." you answer, timidly.

his features stretch into a look of disgust and confusion, which does a poor job of concealing the burning heat rising to his cheek. quick to avert his gaze in frustration, he huffs, "right. thanks."

you add, "a lot nicer than you did on the stage. the strobes weren't very becoming on you."

there it was. the insult he was anticipating. thankfully, as an experienced aggressor, he always has a retort brewing on the back-burner, ready to sling, "i'm not going to take that from a girl who was hacking up smoke a minute ago."

perhaps it was the drunken bravery tainting your blood stream that gave you the audacity to step forward, until you toe-to-toe with him, and take a shallow draw of your cigarette to blow the smoke right back out onto his face.

having seen you coming, he seals his lips and screws his eyes shut, staying that way until your smoke disperses. thus it doesn't affect him that much, but that's not to say he isn't peeved. once you're done and are about to retreat, he harshly grasps your jaw to hold you in place.

leering down at you, he said bluntly, "you're annoying." silently, he admired the way your face looked in his hand, under the ivory moonlight; how your cheeks were framed so perfectly by your hair, and how your glossy lips enticed him. he didn't even know your name but he knew he wanted to press a kiss to every inch of your supple skin.

you're already so submissive; it turns him on to think about what he could do with you in bed.

"sorry." despite the tell of insincerity, you can't help but grin. pleased with the fact he's already touching you the way you like. leaning into his palm, and squish your cheek against his knuckles, and the next steps come naturally from there, as he yanks you up to meet his lips.

however, you can only cherish the intimate sensation for half a moment; you're not even given enough time to establish a rhythm before you both hear a rattling noise coming from down the hallway, to which you react by instinctually prising yourselves off each other and taking your respective places at either side of the fire-exit frame.

and thank goodness you did, as koganegawa and kyoutani stumble in. koganegawa barks orders like a wasted drill sargent, while kyoutani wears the most aggrevated look on his face, a fat vein buldging on his forehead, ready to burst.

"unlock the door, mad dog." koganegawa crosses his arms over his chest and slumps against the wall, while kyoutani thrashes the key around inside the lock, ramming into the door with his shoulder when it doesn't budge, "why did you take the key anyway? you should've gave it to one of us."

kyoutani seems to have tuned out koganegawa's slurred complaints, and eventually — either due to the key or the brute force he was applying to the door — it flies open and koganegawa cheers, beckoning you over. while kyoutani goes in on his own.

you awkwardly glance at tsukishima first, with look that says a thousand words, before you approach koganegawa. he beams, gesturing for you to go in, "c'mon, make yourself comfortable."

without a word, you nod and scuttle into the room.

koganegawa was about to follow right behind you, until he sees tsukishima walk over too, and he promptly stops him from entering by blocking the doorway with his body, "woah! what do you think you're doing?" there was a chance tsukishima was just going to enter the lounge to dispose of his cigarette butt, but koganegawa knew better than to trust his smartass bandmate.

"joining her." tsukishima responds blankly with no remorse in his words, to koganegawa's dismay. he could be slow at times, but kanji was no dummy; he knew by those two words alone what had happened between the two of you in the five minutes he left to find kyoutani. a part of him wanted to reprimand tsukishima for breaching every single law of bro-code, but he knew to not waste his breath of somebody who doesn't care for any form of respect or affability.

instead, he chose the confrontational route, which tsukishima was proficient in.

"you're not joining her; i called dibs!" koganegawa whines, his brows scrunching together as he pouts.

"dibs? you can't call dibs on a person." tsukishima scoffs, rolling his eyes at the ludicrous idea.

"well, i met her first and i invited her back here." koganegawa punctates each 'i' with a theatrical point to himself. "so she's mine."

"then why was she hitting on me?" tsukishima replies triumphantly, and koganegawa has to resist to the urge to smack that smug smirk right off his face.

"she hit on you?" kanji repeated it with wide eyes, as though it was the most egregious thing he has ever heard, "in your dreams maybe. just leave us the fuck alone, kei. you've never tried to steal a girl from me before so i don't know why you chose tonight to start being an asshole."

while their argument raged on in the hallway, you were blissfully unaware.

entering the room confirmed all the suspicions you had, as it appeared to be a lounge of sorts, filled with the band's intruments, speakers and other equitment. next to the doorway there is a small overflowing trash can that you dispose of your cigarette into. there was also a long black leather couch against the wall, that looked like it had seen the worst of two world worlds, and possibly a third: it had gaping holes in the leather, mishapen cushions and peculiar stains.

but there isn't many options for places to sit, so you plop yourself down in the middle, with your arms glued to your side as you patiently wait for koganegawa or tsukishima to join.

kyoutani was also in the room, he must have slipped in as soon as he unlocked the door. the floor of the lounge was quite busy with bags and jackets and hoodies, which he kicked and threw around, sifting through the piles in desperate search for something, muttering profanities under his breath whenever he'd almost trip over one of the items he tossed onto the ground.

it didn't take a genius to figure out from his conduct — and the fact koganegawa referred to him as 'mad dog' — that kyoutani was the brute of the band, and therefore was probably a bit of a hot-head.

despite knowing this, you still go out of your way to involve yourself in his dilemma, taking extra care to be very sensitive in your delivery, in fear of pissing him off. "did you lose something?"

"shut the fuck u—" just as he is about to curse you out from frustration, his focus snaps off the piles of jackets he was rummaging through and lands on your figure on the couch. as soon as he caught a glimpse of you, his attitude instantly switched.

typically he hates groupies in the band lounge, but he can make an exception for you just this once, under certain conditions.

he freezes in his tracks, and inquires skeptically, "who're you?"

"oh, a fan, i guess." you stammer, having to hastily come up with a way to describe your situation without divulging too much embarrassing information. "koganegawa invited me back here. i didn't sneak in or anything." you joke, awkwardly laughing to yourself, but kyoutani doesn't.

he remains deadpan as he slowly sidesteps towards you, "a fan?"

you nod enthusiastically, possibly too overzealous to be convincing, but you didn't want him to doubt your admiration for even a second. "yup, huge fan. i especially liked your drumming, it was amazing."

unaffected by your flattery, he sits beside you, piercing stare lethally fixed to you the entire time, during every movement. "uhuh." he murmurs with his tongue pressed to his cheek.

he's opted to sit really close to you. like really close. you were unsure if he was sober because nobody with uninhibited cognitive function would choose to be so uncomfortably intimate with a stranger. his leg was pressed up on yours, and he was relaxed on the back of the couch while you sat straight, meaning his buff arm was positioned right behind you.

you made sure to hold eye-contact, which is how you noticed he was wearing smudged black eyeliner. to combat the charged silence, you comment, "i like your eyel—"

"nice tits." he states in a strangely blunt tone. it takes you a moment to process that it's even a compliment considering there is not a hint of lechery in his inflection.

"oh, thank y—"

evidently too impatient to let you finish a single sentence, and determined to hasten the pace of the coversation, kyoutani interupts you again to ask, "you down?"

kyoutani wasn't as experienced at hooking up with groupies as koganegawa, which is why he hasn't mastered his 'sweet-talk'. albeit, the straight-forward approach has yet to fail him, but that could be due to his band, muscles or frightening death stare. or all of the above.

"like," your eyes widen, perplexed by his sudden inquiry, "sex? here?"

he nods firmly.

there was hardly any sexual tension lingering between the two of you — at least not in the way it was during your interactions with koganegawa or tsukishima — but admittedly, you had a gander at his body slumped on the couch: his toned abs curving with his posture, and his delicious biceps that flex when he lifts his arm. and with that in mind, you were willing to overlook the lack of sexual chemistry in favour of the physical attraction.

plus, just thinking about how rough he'd be got you so hot.

"uhm, i guess so." you stutter, and you needn't say more.

a brief smile flashes across his features, which is soon lost as his lips lock with yours, his big hands immediately seizing the oppertunity to roughly explore your body and press it against his. engaging you in a deep yet fleeting kiss, leaving you aching for more when as he gets up from the couch to march over to the door and close it.

just as he is about to do so, koganegawa — still in a heated contention with tsukishima — notices out of the corner of his eye and slams his fist down against the door, preventing kyoutani from shutting it. "what are you doing?" he yells, with some misdirected fury in his voice.

fortunately, kyoutani is more focussed on returning to you, so he ignores koganegawa's attitude and replies bluntly, "you know what i'm doing, so get lost. both of you." he goes to close the door again, but this time tsukishima holds it open too.

"what is wrong with both of you?" koganegawa shouts, exasperated, "i invited her backstage; the two of you need to leave."

"not happening." kyoutani snarls, then tries to slam the door closed again, despite the resistance, "fuck off!"

the shouting finally made you aware of the altercation going on by the entrance, which was likely also the cause of neither koganegawa or tsukishima joining you. hence, you call out, "is everything okay?"

upon hearing your voice, kyoutani instinctually turns around to look at you and lets his guard down for a moment, but still long enough for koganegawa to seize the oppertunity to shove past him and dash in front of you, while tsukishima and kyoutani quickly follow suit.

"(y/n), sorry for the hold up. these two won't leave us alone!" koganegawa explains while laughing awkwardly, motioning to his bandmates who both wear matching scowls. "but i'm here now, so."

"i think (y/n) has changed her mind about that, isn't that right?" tsukishima rebuttles, as they all suddenly turn to stare at you expectantly.

your blood runs cold at the sudden shift of attention and now being the focal point of the discussion — in addition to how they were all waiting in baited silence for you to make a decision. you gulp, avoiding eye-contact and all costs and somehow croaking out, "uh, i'm not sure what you want me to say."

"we're just asking—"

"we want to know—"

both koganegawa and tsukishima begin to explain the situation simultaneously, talking over each other to the point neither of them were intelligble as their voices drowned one another out. their squabbling only made you even more nervous and confused. that is, until kyoutani speaks up, louder than both of them and asks,

"who're you gonna fuck?"

you're able to hear that perfectly clear, and so are koganegawa and tsukishima as they fade to mute.

the straight-forward question — although, concise — still leaves you with a lot to consider. not wanting to hurt any of their feelings, you choose the diplomatic route and try to formulate a response you think would appease them all, "each one of you is so sweet in your own ways. i don't think i could choose, sorry." you stuttered, pressing your legs together.

while kyoutani and tsukishima grumbled and griped about 'wasting their time' and 'getting their hopes up', a sly smirk spread across koganegawa's lips; one that they only noticed when he started tittering to himself.

although tsukishima immediately understood, kyoutani remained in a state of bafflement as he watched his bandmates cast each other knowing looks. after demanding answers, koganegawa finally pat his shoulder and whispered, "four way."

kyoutani hated the idea of fucking a girl at the same time as other guys, and that was evident by the disgust plastered over his face. however, it had been solidified that the only way he was going to get with you tonight is if he was willing to make some compromises, so he begrudgingly decided to pick up a bottle of vodka from the cooler and tough it out. as soon as the bitter substance hit his tongue, the situation was already starting to sound doable.

tsukishima always thought of himself as too good to ever share the girls he's into, but he was confronted with a harsh reality check. one that dictates he'll have to settle with certain conditions. once kyoutani has taken a gulp of the drink, he snatches it out of his hand and takes a swig.

[N$FW]

on the other hand, koganegawa couldn't be more pleased. it was likely linked to the fact that so far tonight he has had more to drink than either of him, but he's more focussed on finally getting to fuck you after all the effort he's gone through. as shown by his speed in dropping down onto the couch next to you, swiftly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to facillitate a deep kiss.

while his hands wander suggestively over your body — grabbing and groping at whatever parts he desires — kyoutani and tsukishima watch in horror, then hastily join as to not let him have you all to himself.

kyoutani plops down on your other side, using his strong arms to aggressively yank you onto his lap. your lips were still locked with koganegawa's, with your arms still drapes over his shoudlers, so the only response you give to kyoutani's action is a muffled yelp. but this surprisingly does seem to bother him, since he is more involved with other priorities. such as unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other delves between your thighs, wandering under your dress and grazing the damp fabric of your panties with the tips of two fingers.

tsukishima clicks his tongue at the obscene sight, grimacing with repulsion but somehow unable to pry his eyes away. "this is gross.." he grumbles to himself, but the rest of you are too occupied to even aknowledge his comment. with a curbed sigh, he takes another gulp of vodka — straight from the bottle — before reluctantly approaching the situation.

although he is lost as to where he is supposed to fit himself in, since you're currently engaging in a passionate kiss with koganegawa and greedily fondling your ass and pussy in his lap. however, you are considerate enough to notice his aimless figure out of the corner of your eyes, so you hastily pull free from the kiss to face tsukishima instead. surprisingly, koganegawa doesn't seem to mind, and shifts his focus to peppering kisses across your collarbone and neck, occassionally sucking a hickey into your soft skin, while kneading your tits in one of his hands.

your attention fell on tsukishima, who stood tall and loomed over you, hooded yet intimidating eyes gazing down. this proved as an obstacle as he was far too high up for you to kiss, since kyoutani had you secured on his lap by his muscled arms, and tsukishima didn't seem interested in kneeling to meet your height. however, this wasn't an issue for him, as it mean your head was at the perfect height to attend to the erection growing in his pants. you glance up at him innocently, and he reciprocates with a sly smirk, as he hands work to unzip his fly and free his cock.

while tsukishima did that, you sat and whimpered quietly as koganegawa diligently marked your neck with hickeys, leaning into his warm touch. as well as kyoutani tugging your panties aside to rub at your sensitive folds, relishing in your wetness and how you subconsciously tensed your thighs around his veiny forearms. so sweet. only made him more eager to hike up the skirt of your dress to reveal your whole ass for him. his hands move from your cunt up to your waist, utilising his grip to hold you over his lap, and you yelp as he suddenly pushes you off him.

he uses his other hand to align his cock with your juicy entrance, then wastes no time in letting go of your body, allowing you to sink down on his length, savouring the satisfying stretch of your snug pussy as it consumed him. "shit.. you're tight, bitch."

a guttural groan was drawn out of your throat at the unexpected intrusion, and though his girth was a difficult to take at first, the painful quickly dissolved into warm pleasure, reflected by your walls fluttering around him and your eyes rolling back in your head.

naturally, your mouth fell agape in reaction to his thick cock being shoved inside you, and tsukishima found that to be the perfect oppertunity to grab a fistful of your hair and guide it down to his newly freed cock, graciously accepting the whole length into your mouth. although this keen maneuver was also abrupt, instead of gagging or coughing, you were able to quickly accomodate it and gracefully glide your tongue down the underside of his shaft, stimulating the base — that your lips weren't quite able to reach — elicting a stifled groan in reaction. he can't help but chuckle to himself a bit; perhaps it was just how inbreiated he was, buut he was amused at how much he was enjoying this, choking you on his cock in front of his bandmates. his hands travels from your hair down to the side of your face, gently pushing your hair out of your face with his thumb, gazing down at you with a desirous glint in his eye, "you're good at that." he rasps. though you could barely hear him over the lewd slapping noises of kyoutani roughly bouncing you on his cock, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.

after you were hunched over by tsukishima, that made it tricky for koganegawa to continue kissing your shoulders and neck, so he trailed pecks down your spine, all the way to your lower back. that is when he took notice of your exposed ass, courtesy of kyoutani pulling your slimfit dress up. he smirked, and with not much else to entertain him, he licks his index finger and it ventures towards your uninhabited hole, while the other hands keeps your cheeks apart.

it was almost challenging due to the pace at which kyoutani was moving you up and down and up and down, but koganegawa was determined to give your insides a feel. and kyoutani, though mostly engrossed in the bliss your homey pussy was providing him, didn't mind watching it happen. you could feel koganegawa playing with your ass yet it made it you gasp when his wet fingers delved into your hole. "you like that, doll?" he snickered, squirming his finger around.

your gasp disturbed your ryhtmn around tsukishima's cock, causing you to have to jerk away to cough and splutter. tsukishima stared down at you impatiently as you did so, burning holes into the top of your head, meanwhile kyoutani quite enjoyed your coughing fit — specifically how you're cunt clenched him each time. "fuck, that's good." he grunts.

once you were finished, you were swiftly guided back to tsukki's dick, encouraging you to reestablish your previous speed. "keep going. you're not done til i cum in that whore mouth." he states sternly, his mean tone laced with teasing. you quickly get to work, eagerly sucking his cock at a furious pace, to the point where drool was beginning to spill from the corner of your mouth, which tsukishima carefully wiped away with his thumb.

"hey, don't talk to her that, kei." koganegawa slurs from behind you, and even though you couldn't see his shit-eating grin, you could tell by his inflection that he was joking. and if that wasn't already clear, it was further demonstrated as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out of your puckered hole. "whores usually aren't this tight."

a smile ghosts over tsukishima's lips at koganegawa's reply, however he was mostly amused by the fervent way you devoured his cock — like you were starving. it was too good; worth sharing for. the only downside was that he was getting dangerously close to a climax already, but he didn't want to be the first one to finish.

thankfully, soon enough, kyoutani's guttural grunts were increasing in volume and it was becoming evident to everyone that he was close, and that notion was solidified by his prolonged groan, "shit.. gunna fill this bitch up.."

koganegawa either took pity on you or maybe just wanted to be the first one to cum inside you, but whatever the reason, he used his leverage on your ass to push you upwards just as kyoutani was ready to bust. thus, instead of spilling inside your spongy walls like he intended, kyoutani came while your hole was hovering above his tips, and thick spurts of cum leaked all over his own lap.

"fuck!" he exclaimed from both disgust and orgasmic bliss, glaring daggers at koganegawa. if it wasn't for the fact he was flushed and recovering from the best orgasm he's had in months, kyoutani would've attacked koganegawa in a heartbeat for making such a mess. but currently, he was so fucked out and hazed he couldn't bring himself to lift a finger. plus, he currently had more pressing priorities.

while kyoutani stripped himself of his soiled jeans, tsukishima had lost himself in the hedonistic euphoria brought to him by your expert mouth. and now that the friction in your pussy wasn't sending numbingly delicious waves of pleasure wracking through your body, you could focus all your energy on bringing tsukishima over the final hurdle.

which you did, rapidly. there wasn't much time between kyoutani's orgasm and tsukishima being sent hurtling to his climax. your lips dragged frantically back and forth on his length, while your hand stimulated the parts your mouth wasn't able to fit. but in a frenzied rush, you abandon the handjob all together and start deep-throating his whole fucking cock.

you only manage to do this three times before he cums.

his hand tangles itself in your hair which allows him to fuck your mouth throughout the duration of his high, letting his hot seed ooze down your throat. "just like that. drink it up, princess." he heaves, not usually one to dirty talk but his lust blurred mind drove him to utter the first coherent thoughts that occured to him.

"yeah, princess." koganegawa tittered to himself, yanking his finger out of your hole with a lewd pop. if tsukishima's uncharacteristically pornographic grunts weren't enough to motivate you, the brutal spank koganegawa planted on your ass certainly was. followed by an even harsher one, that made your whole body shake, courtesy of kyoutani.

despite your bruised and sore throat, you were somehow able to slurp down every last drop of his salty cum, all while gazing up at him with watery eyes. watching as his face glazed over in pleasure, his heavy breaths steaming up his rectangular glasses that sunk to tip of his tongue. he was so hot; it made all the effort you put into pleasing him infinitely worth it.

and he thought the same of you, when he was able to catch a glimpse of you through his hazy vision and foggy glasses. the way your cute nose scrunched up at the taste, and your lips parted into a pretty 'o' around his girth, and how your cheeks puffed out cutely. it all contributed to his euphoric orgasm. he was on cloud nine and never wanted to the moment to end, hence he tried to stretch it out for as long as he could, keeping your head held close to his base until your mouth had milked his cock for all he had.

after his high had definitively concluded, he finally relaxed his grip on your hair, therefore you are able to slip away, gasping for air and filling your sinuses with fresh air for the first time in what felt like ages. "damn.." you mutter to yourself, already somewhat missing the saturated sensation of his dick in your mouth.

he cupped your chin in his hands and tilts your head up to meet his piercing stare, squishing your tear-stained cheeks in the process. "tired?"

you silently shake your head, not breaking eye-contact.

tsukishima opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by koganegawa saying in a whiny tone, "good! 'cause i've not had a turn yet." tsukki watches with narrowed eyes as kanji grabs your thighs and pulls you off kyoutani's lap. he shuffles onto his knees and positions you so you are bent over in front of him, with your pussy aligned with his hips, while your cheek is pressed against kyoutani's muscular — and bare — thigh. conveniently facing his stiff cock.

"look at this pretty fuckin' pussy." koganegawa still had his jeans on and would playfully thrust his clothed erection against your sopping cunt, and the friction from that alone was enough to make him whimper under his breathe. despite the addicting sensation, the sight of your glistening pussy — still slick and dripping with arousal — completely hypnotised him. it had him gripping at your thighs in order to lift you up, until your cunt aligned with his mouth and he could lick a long stripe between your folds, revelling in the taste.

not anticipating that variety of stimulation at all, a small gasp exits you at the abruptness of both the touch and being lifted up. however, kyoutani is quick to shut you up by aggressively stuffing his firm cock into your mouth. his wasn't as long as tsukki's so you didn't instantly choke in it, however it was far thicker, leaving your mouth far more full. there was barely any space for your tongue to move around.

similar to before, kyoutani grabbed your hair and used to make you suck at the speed of his choosing. though, unlike tsukishima, kyoutani left you with no autonomy, steering you entirely to his pleasing and forcing you to blow him at an unreal pace. your head bobbed up and down furiously on his dick, presumably bruising your lips each time you were slammed onto his pace. not that you minded, you frankly quite enjoyed him using your face as his own personally fleshlight. at least in exchange for all the deliriously horny praise he spluttered for you, "go on, take it, bitch. in that sexy mouth. like a fuckin' whore."

meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to stifle your moans as koganegawa went to town between your thighs. licking and lapping up your juices as though he was starving. using his thumbs to spread your folds apart so he could access every last inch of your soaked pussy, sucking and nibbling on every part he could. drawling incoherently against your lips, "mmph, fuck you taste sweet. and yer so wet, doll." he whined almost tearfully, "shit— what've we been missing out on?"

eventually he had to pull away to catch his breathe and shakily wipe your slick off his chin and cheeks with the back of his hand. even as he did so, he glanced to the side at tsukishima — who was idly tracing his finger up your spine — and kanji grabbed ahold of your ass and angled it to the side, panting, "kei, try it."

tsukishima blinked, taking a moment to process the offer. a muted part of him was aware of how regretful he would be in the morning, but that still didn't stop his legs from moving on their own, hesitantly sitting down right next to koganegawa, so his face was only inches away from your hole.

kanji's pointed pupils were locked to tsukishima the entire time; watching carefully as the taller blonde slowly leans in to your pussy, until his lips connect with your folds. his pace is face more leisurely than koganegawa's, taking his time in stimulating his clit with your tongue and massaging your labia with mouth. suckling and kissing on your pussy as though he was making out with an adoring lover. his eyelids fluttered shut as he got lost between your legs, much to the amusement of his observing bandmate, "good, ain't it?" kanji snickers.

tsukki replies with an incomprehensibly muffled groan, which vibrated against your swollen clit. glassing fogging up again from the close contact.

all while kyoutani was still fucking your mouth to his heart's content. despite how rough he was, you were eventually able to somewhat relax your throat around his cock, and welcome it into your mouth with relative ease. due to this, and perhaps his enhanced sensitivity from his recent orgasm, it was long until he had you pushed down to the base of his cock as he released into you, making you drink up his tangy seed while he melted back into the couch and grumble, "that mouth.. nmph—"

once he thinks you've sufficently taken his cum, he suddenly yanks you off his cock by your hair and lets you rest your head against his strong things, while he stares at the ceiling, chest inflating and deflating as experiences a post-orgasmic haze. idly, he strokes your head, dragging his thumb across your temple in a benign manner.

as tsukishima is still lapping atyour cunt, kanji quirks a brow daringly and remarks, "bet you can't make squirt."

the strange assertion causes tsukishima to falter and his eyes to shoot open. furrowing his brows together, he unhurriedly retracts his lips from your folds and replies in a shallow voice, "what?"

"you ever made a girl squirt before, kei?" kanji asks with a cheeky smile.

just as he opens his mouth to respond, kyoutani interrupts, "obviously he hasn't."

kanji laughs, and tsukishima retorts, "of course i have."

"go ahead n' do it then, big boy." koganegawa chuckles and expects the mad dog to do so as well, but the other too just cringe.

"don't call me that, freak." tsukishima spits. but without requiring further instruction, he takes on the bet and immediately his lips crash against your needy cunt, with the goal of ultimately making you squirt. his work is unrushed and precise as it was before, but this time around his tongue ventures into your hole, squirming around and investigating every section of your gummy walls. simultaneously capturing your folds between his lips and sucking them dry.

his actions cast waves of heat cascading through your body, evidenced by your wanton moans into kyoutani's lap and your trembling figure as you approached your first orgasm. in stark contrast with the cold surface of his glasses grazing your molten core whenever he got too close. even though he was coming down from his own high, kyoutani still gave a slight attempt to reassure you by tenderly patting between your shoulder. whereas koganegawa took a more direct approach, steering you to your climax by shoving his finger into your sore asshole again and then following it up with a smack on your cheek, "you ready to cum, doll? be loud so we can hear ya, yeah?"

and just like that, aided by tsukishima tongue-deep in your tight cunt, eating you out so expertly, and finding delicious spots inside you that you didn't even know you had, you soon came undone against his face. your back arched and you were guided through your climax by tsukishima continuing to eat you out for the duration, and koganegawa kindly stroking your ass, "perfect, baby. let it all out. don't be shy, kanji's got ya."

"hgnh, fuck, t—too much!" you exclaim.

your breaths staggered out and you were left defeated and tired against kyoutani's lap. your legs were numb so you were unsure how they had the strength to keep your ass in the air, but somehow you said frozen in place. tsukishima hesitantly removed himself from between your legs, and he didn't even need to say anything before he was pushed aside and off the couch by koganegawa, "that was a good effort, kei. i'll give you that." he delcared smugly, referencing the fact that — although you came — you didn't squirt. "pay close attention. i'll show you how to really please a woman."

tsukishima didn't even entertain his ludicrious bragging with a response, instead he just scoffed and rolled his eyes, slumping down on the floor with his back against the coffee table, so he was facing the couch. he reached over and grabbed the nearby bottle of vodka and took a swig: he was going to watch alright, but for his own enjoyment, not because koganegawa told him to. "there is nothing you could teach me that i don't already know, moron."

"we'll see about that." kanji titters. he shifts himself so he is sitting on his knees, and aligns his newly exposed cock with your hole. the bulbous head of his dick prods at your slit, enlarged from how long he went without any personal attendance gathering your slick with his tip, he basks in the gooey sensation before ramming himself straight into your slobbering hole.

he pounded into you wildly and repeatedly, very euthusiatic and able to maintain a consistently hard and fast pace; the direct results of holding in his lust for so long. each time his hips connected with yours, a filthy slapping noise rung throughout the room from his balls colliding with your soaked clit. when his eyes weren't threatening to roll back into his neck from the sheer and overwhelming pleasure your tight cunt was bringing him, they were glued to your ass, admiring its subtle bounce each time he thrust into you.

"hah- knew you'd be tight, baby, but— shit, this 's crazy." his eyes screwed shut, burning tears glossing his lashline, as he audibly struggles to cope with the way your cunt clings to him. "best— hnngh, best pussy i've ever fuckin' had. where've you been hah— hiding, angel?" despite this, he hammers into your pussy with ease, but he worries he might finish in you sooner than anticipated. and you can feel this by the way his dick throbs within you, since he's so big you can sense every little pulse of his veins and ever-so-slight leaking of precum from his engorged tip.

"gunna pump you full of my load, yeah.. you like that shit, right? being kanji's sweet little cumdump, huh?" he rambles on, meanwhile you are too fucked out to even think of a response.

not wanting to be selfish and cum before you, he places a hand on your labia and frantically palms at your clit, coaxing you to an orgasm with his honeyed words, "c'mon, princess. ngh— almost there; be a good girl 'n cum for me. make this— nggh— this tight pussy squirt, i know you can do it."

the whole couch rocks with the fierce rate at which he ploughs into you, and with the way your loving cunt chews down on his cock, it's not long before he spills inside you. lazily grinding with his head tossed back, punctuating each wet thrust with a hushed curse.

"there. we. fucking. go. just like that, angel; milk daddy's cock dry.. you know, hah— you need it." his hot cum flooding through your insides and greasing your tender walls was enough to send you hurtling over the edge too. biting down on kyoutani's skin in a feeble attempt to muffle the shriek-like moan you were on the verge of letting out, elicited by the colossal fire that was literally spreading through you, lining your pussy walls and rudely intruding into your womb.

laboured breaths staggered out from koganegawa, as he slipped his cock out of your slippery pussy, once your orgasmic grip has alleviated. "such a sweet girl but you take dick like a whore, y'know." he muses, caresses your perky ass, paying close attention to how your hole twitched around nothing. "you were pretty when you came too. shame you didn't squirt though."

"cos neither of you could make a bitch squirt if you tried." kyoutani scoffs, picking you up in his usual rough manner and manhandling you away from koganegawa so you were draped over his lap, with your stomach against his thighs and your ass perfectly within reach. "i'll try."

"mad dog, leave her alone. i think she's had enough." koganegawa suggests upon observing your frail and weak figure, barely able to resist kyoutani's harsh grasp.

kyoutani grips your chin and whips your head around to meet his vicious stare. "you done?" with one brow raised, he rasps, "or do you wanna cum on a real man, slut?"

you innocently blink at him. with the majority of your brain fried, you were left to think with only your pussy, which is why you ended up nodding mutedly, despite the aching mess already pooling between your legs.

"good." he mutters. wasting no time, he plunges two fingers into your drooling hole. slicing through the amalgamation of fluids coating your walls, he fiercely thrusts into you, tips of his fingers poking at your gummy walls each time until he found your sweet spot. and once he did, oh he abused it. slamming into it over and over; a faintly satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you cry out for him in a flurry of hedonistic desperation.

"ngh— so, so fast. don't st— stahh— op, please.."

"see. enjoy it, whore. no other guy is ever goin' to fuck you this good." he whispers into your ear through gritted teeth, his hot breath searing your skin. "n' maybe if you squirt for me i'll do this for you again. how's that sound?"

"mhm.." you whine meekly, enraputred by the violent fingering between your shaking legs.

his buff arm was cradling your ass in order to lift you off his knees slightly so he could access your cunt from a better vantage point, which assisted him in reaching the vulnerable sports inside you that he had discovered. the parts that had your toes curling in your heels and your back arching erotically into him.

then, amidst the feverish thrusts, without warning, a staggered scream erupted from your throat and crytalline fluid came flooding out of your pussy. your eyes screwed together and all you were able to do was tense up and moan as your body went through the motions. your cunt clamped down around his fingers while gushing around them, causing kyoutani to groan a little, as he wanted to finger you through your high but he didn't have the strength left to prevail against your iron grip.

the overstimulation had resulted in this being your most powerful climax yet, so it lasted a while. with squirt pouring out of you and your whole body shuddering for what felt like ages. albeit it was a delightful sight for the three boys who surrounded you.

once you settled down and the overpowering pleasure pulsing through you eventually faded out, kyoutani was finally able to remove his fingers from you, with a vile squelching noise. your cunt cherished the empty sensation, finally free of any conjestion for the first time in what felt like hours. kyoutani idly palmed your pussy, slowly rubbing your labia and mixing all the different liquids that pooled by your creamy hole. "it's that easy." he says with hooded-eyes, to his bandmates who simply gape back at him, astounded.

"i— didn't think you even knew how to finger." kanji stuttered.

"yeah. you don't seem like the type, kyoutani." tsukishima adds.

"obviously i know how!" kyoutani barks angrily, prevented from lunging forward at them by your body sprawled over his lap, "i just don't do it often."

"oh, so you're just lazy?" tsukishima snickers at his own quip, and so does koganegawa.

but to their surprise, instead of getting defensive, kyoutani just replies nonchalantly, "yeah." he shrugs, "can't be bothered."

when he realises that your still on his lap, and he's caressing your ass in an oddly fond fashion, he is quick to push you away, throwing you back against the couch next to him with ease. "get off me." he snips, wearing a mean scowl as he crosses his arms over his chest bed-temperedly.

while you are laying dejected on the couch, koganegawa climbs to his feet and lurches over to you, then dizzily plops down beside you. very close, looking over so his lips are basically grazing your neck, "how're you feeling, princess?" he coos, gazing at your fucked-out figure with stars in his eyes.

"leave her alone, kanji." tsukishima slurs, shaking his head disapprovingly at his bandmate's actions.

"yeah, let the bitch rest."

"i'm just checking on her!" he whines back at the pair, then turns to you, "so, as i was saying: you okay, angel?"

"tired.. but yeah." you mumble.

"good. i was a bit scared we might've broke ya." he laughs to himself, still captivated by you, despite your unresponsiveness, "so, are you free next friday? that's when we're booked to do another show here." he explains, then abruptly leans in to whisper right in your ear, "then you can get some one-on-one time with your favourite singer, huh?"

"stop that." tsukishima immediately chimes in. "first you barely made her cum and now you're threatening her with more sex."

"sex with me isn't a threat; it's a blessing." koganegawa retorts, running his hands through his hair as though that was going to affirm his point, but really all it did was make tsukishima vomit in his mouth a little.

"keep telling yourself that."

"big talk from you, four-eyes. not like you made her squirt either." mad dog chuckles smugly. it was strange how they talked about you like you weren't in the room with them. perhaps they thought you had fallen asleep because your eyes were closed. or maybe — and more likely — they just didn't give a fuck.

tsukishima rolls his eyes, "you only got her to squirt because kanji and i had already tried, so she was on her third round. you would've never been able to do it if you had gone first."

koganegawa nods firmly in agreement, far to drunk to begin to comprehend what tsukishima meant but it sounded in opposition to kyoutani, so he agreed. "yeah, that's like basic biology."

"i could've!" kyoutani argues.

then, an idea occurs to koganegawa, which he expresses while tenderly fondling your thigh, "you'll have to prove it. why don't we schedule a rematch for next friday. how does that sound, doll?"

[onehundredfallenpetals]

You still into tpn? Maybe some rayemma?

Or shuake

I'm not rly into tpn anymore but I do periodically miss Rayems... They were so good. It was really fun to draw them again and I liked drawing the old man's house (from the two final chapters y'know) thanks for the request!!

[sylvrndoodles]

[dutchs-paisley-vest]

Been thinking about Hosea a lot as I write this analysis on Dutch and Micah.

Maybe I’ll eventually whip something up about him, but for now I’m left with thoughts about knowing that not only is Hosea just as guilty as Dutch when it comes to how their boys were brought up (and continued to be treated through adulthood and ultimately up to their deaths), but also the way the two irreparably damaged John and Arthur’s entire lives beyond even their own comprehension. FURTHERMORE, they set forth a viscous cycle of familial violence and neglect that maintained momentum into the next generation. (See: John and Jack.)

The way Hosea’s action, but more importantly his inaction had in part led to… well, [gestures vaguely to RDR1 + RDR2].

Hosea might have been gentler than Dutch on the surface, but he saw it all, and at times both implicitly and explicitly encouraged it through the meticulous timing of his decisions to remain a “silent watcher.”

Yes, refusal to mitigate the violence makes him complicit, but the matter of the fact is… Hosea can’t even feign partial innocence as a third-party bystander because of how calculated he is in nature.

Additionally, there is no “third party.” Dutch and Hosea are a single unit. They occupy the same space even as two separate individuals in John and Arthur’s lives.

The deliberate nature of Hosea’s inaction puts him in the same position as the “perpetrator” because he isn’t just a watcher, he corroborates directly with Dutch and agrees with what he is doing on principle. He reenforces it in perhaps more subtle ways, but that doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.

The only difference between the two is that while they’re dealing different cards, they are playing the exact same game.

[sysig]

I am not immune to any cutes - including Rick and Morty cutes, unfortunately (Patreon)

[marinsawakening]

I own a Wii and Twilight Princess at this point btw. I could set it up at any time. But what if. Instead of doing that. I just played more Majora's Mask.

[fragmentedblade]

I have so many screenshots of Kalpas' face I could reconstruct his face at this point, and I'm afraid to say I'm not sure his face is scarred

[ricoka]

I become obsessed with new art mediums weekly, it feels like; but tombow ABT 🤯🫶

water soluble!!! and the colours, my god the colours

[angstandhappiness]

AMAZING

Greetings I play cookie run

[nosyp]

Care For Another Game?

Warning = smut🔞, gambling(?), destroying food, small spoilers, dubious consent

Pairing = Salesman (squid game) x fem! reader

Summary = A simple game of ddakji turns into something much more when he shows up at your door with a proposition. The stakes are higher, and this time, it’s not just about winning. Now it’s about control and desire.

Word count = 2.8k

Part 2

A/N = I'm genuinely so horny for this man please forgive me

“Excuse me, ma’am, would you like to play ddakji?” 

You turned to face the voice, unsure if it was meant for you or someone else. A man stood just a few feet away, a small, polite smile on his face. You were sitting on the bench in the subway, waiting to catch the next one. 

“M-me?” you muttered out.

“Yes.” he replied, very quickly. Damn, he’s so certain. How could I possibly reject it?

“Ehh? Sure I guess…” you mumbled, your words almost inaudible.

“Excellent,” he said, his smile widening just a fraction. He stepped closer, lowering himself to your level. Up close, you noticed how sharp his features were, it was like he was carved out so carefully. His suit didn’t even have a single wrinkle, and his posture was impossibly composed, as if he was used to winning in life.

He then knelt on the dusty subway floor and placed two folded paper squares in front of you. “The rules are simple,” he explained. “You use your tile to flip mine. If you succeed, you win.” You started to roll your eyes as he was explaining the preface of the game… well that was until he held up the stack of cash. Oh you’re not losing now.

“And if I lose?” you asked cautiously.

“Then…” His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite name. “You owe me.”

You blinked, your unease growing. “Owe you what?”

“Let’s not worry about that just yet.” His voice was calm, almost reassuring, but it only made you more aware of the trap you might be stepping into.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your coat. You were unsure whether to back out now or follow through.

“Well?” he prompted, tilting his head slightly. “Which colour do you want?”

“Red please.” you responded, evoking a small smile from him.

You hesitated, then picked up one of the paper tiles. Its edges were surprisingly crisp, as though it had been folded just moments ago. Taking a deep breath, you crouched down to face him.

“Okay,” you said, steadying your hand. “Let’s do this.”

You both immediately got up and started playing. He seemed like an innocent guy from the outside but in the game, he seemed like a completely different person. The force he put into flipping the stupid tiles was so strong you swore you heard the ground shake beneath you.

Somehow, miraculously, you won most of the rounds and earned 500k won. You’d expect him to be a bit better if he was spending a bunch of time running around asking to play. You saw him a few days prior doing the same thing he did with you with other people. Though, they didn’t win much, mostly slaps to the face.

“Thank you,” you say, holding the stack of cash in both of your hands. 

He still had that stupid smile plastered on his face. It never disappeared. How annoying.

“Mm. You’re welcome.” he responds, his face quickly darkening. And he walked away, without saying anything else. He also left the red paper tile with you.

With a satisfied hum, you skipped your way into the arriving subway. 

—

Somehow, that didn’t end up being your last meeting with him.

A week later, you were strolling through the park, enjoying the rare peaceful silence. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves accompanied the sounds, but something disrupted the serene atmosphere. A sharp, rhythmic sound.

It was… stomping? And yelling? What the fuck?

Curious, you followed the noise, rounding a corner near the fountain. There, in the middle of an open patch of grass, stood the man from the subway—the Ddakji guy. He was dressed just as sharply as before, though his once-pristine shoes were now caked with crumbs.

You froze, watching in disbelief as he stomped repeatedly on a pile of bread scattered on the ground. It was like a massacre of carbs. He was literally stomping on it while screaming “this is your guys' fault” or some shit like that, in the middle of the park. Holy shit.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath while walking closer to him. 

He looked up, pausing mid-stomp as if he’d heard you. His eyes locked onto yours, and that familiar polite smile spread across his face.

“Ah,” he said, straightening his posture as if he hadn’t just been waging war on baked goods. “We meet again.”

You blinked, pointing at the corpses of the bread. “What… are you doing?”

He glanced down, brushing a speck of flour off his pants. “An experiment,” he said simply.

“An experiment?” you echoed, incredulous. “In what? Angering pigeons?”

He chuckled softly, stepping away from the pile. “You wouldn’t understand. But it’s good to see you again, ma’am.”

“Okay, no.” You held up a hand, as if to stop whatever strange explanation he was about to give. “First, why are you stepping on bread? Second, why are you here, in this park, at the exact same time as me?”

His smile didn’t falter, but something in his gaze shifted. It became more calculated, as though he was about to beat you up– okay maybe not literally. 

“Coincidence, perhaps,” he said, though the tone of his voice suggested otherwise. “Or maybe it’s fate.”

You took a step back, your instincts telling you that fate wasn’t the right answer. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“Stalking is such an ugly word.” He tilted his head, his expression almost amused. “Let’s just say… I find you interesting.”

Your stomach flipped, and not in a romantic way at all. “Right. Well, maybe don’t ‘find me’ again, okay?” you say, giving emphasis to the ‘find me’ with your two index and middle fingers on both hands.

He took a step closer, and you immediately regretted not leaving sooner. “I have a proposition,” he said smoothly, ignoring your obvious discomfort.

“Another game?” you guessed.

“Not quite.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out something that made your heart race—a single piece of folded paper. Ddakji.

“Nope, no way,” you said, backing away. “I’m not doing this again.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his smile widening. “This time, the stakes are higher.”

Then you stopped. Halted in your position. “You really wanna try again after losing? You’ve got guts. Or maybe you’re just dumb. Who knows?”

He rolled his eyes at you and pulled out the same two tiles. 

“Oh! You’ve got another one,” you mentioned, reminding him of the night.

“Yea yea… let’s start,” he demanded.

To your surprise, you won again. Well, won most of the rounds. He seemed a bit frustrated at the outcome. 

“What? You upset?” you tease.

“...” 

He didn’t respond. 

You flipped the tile in your hands again, a smug grin plastered on your face. “You know, for someone who’s so insistent on playing, you’re really not that good at this.”

His jaw tightened, but the polite smile stayed in place. “Luck doesn’t last forever, ma’am.”

“Maybe not, but it sure seems to be holding up today,” you say while stuffing your winnings into your pocket. “Thanks for the cash, by the way. It’s not everyday someone bankrolls my coffee addiction.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead adjusting his cuffs with an almost mechanical precision. You could tell he was trying not to let your teasing get to him.

“So,” you continued, leaning against a nearby tree, “is this what you do for fun? Wander around challenging strangers to games you’re bad at?”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t say I’m bad.”

“Oh? The scoreboard says otherwise,” you shot back, gesturing to the imaginary tally in the air. “I’m up by, what, a hundred rounds?”

His smile faltered for the shortest moment, and you felt a spark of triumph. “You’re quite the character,” he said finally, his tone more measured.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, shrugging. “Anyway, thanks for the game. I’ll be sure to tell my friends about the weird guy in the park who hands out money for getting owned at ddakji.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You won’t have to. They’ll find out for themselves.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, instead stepping closer and plucking the tile from your hand with surprising speed. You blinked at the empty space where it had been.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you protested.

“Consider it a rematch token,” he said, tucking the tile neatly into his pocket. “When you’re ready to lose, find me.”

“Lose? You’re delusional,” you scoffed.

He gave you a slight bow, his polished demeanor back in full force. “Until next time, ma’am.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a mix of irritation and amusement.

“Next time, I’m taking your shoes too!” you called after him.

He raised a hand in a lazy wave but didn’t look back.

You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “What a weirdo.”

Still, as you walked back to your bench, you found yourself wondering if there really would be a next time. And if there was, you weren’t planning to lose.

—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three consecutive knocks at your door. You wondered who it was. You hesitated for a moment, eyeing the door warily. It was late, and you hadn’t been expecting anyone. You didn’t have many visitors… well, actually, you had no visitors, except for the occasional delivery or perhaps a neighbor. The knocks repeated again, a bit harsher this time.

"Who the hell is it?" you muttered under your breath before rising from the couch and moving cautiously towards the door. Then you peeked through the peephole, but the hallway was empty.

A chill ran down your spine, and for a moment, you considered not answering. Maybe it was just some mistake, or a knock meant for someone else. But then the thoughts of being too paranoid crept in, and you didn’t want to seem like an idiot ignoring a visitor.

You pulled the door open a bit, just enough to see who was there.

And behold, there he was—the ddakji guy. Of course. How the heck did he dodge the peephole? He’s quite tall.

His smile was as unnerving as always, that same polite grin he always wore that never failed to send a shiver through you. He was standing there, holding a small black briefcase in his right hand. His suit, crisp as always, was illuminated by the light, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about his presence wasn’t exactly… safe. 

“Ah, I knew you were home,” he said, as if he’d known the entire time you were debating whether or not to open the door.

“Are you… stalking me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure despite the strange situation.

“Stalking is such a harsh word,” he said smoothly, giving his usual tilt of the head. “I still much prefer… coincidence… or fate,”

You crossed your arms, still not entirely convinced. “Fate? That sounds like a line you use on people before you scam them into some ridiculous deal.”

He chuckled lightly. “I assure you, no deals. Just a proposition.” He took a step closer, his presence suddenly more intimidating than before. “I’ve come to finish what we started.”

You frowned, the memory of your last meeting flashing through your mind. From the look on his face after you won the game, and the way he seemed so nonchalant about everything.

“I’m pretty sure I already finished it,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected. “I won. You lost. End of story.”

He didn’t seem fazed by your resistance. “Maybe. But I don’t think it’s over just yet. You see, I have another game in mind. One you might find… more interesting.”

You were about to shut the door, but then he grabbed hold of the side to stop you.

“Just wait a second,” he said, his strength much overpowering yours.

What the hell was this guy’s deal?

You frowned, the memory of your last meeting flashing through your mind. From the look on his face after you won the game, and the way he seemed so nonchalant about everything. But now... there was something in his eyes. Something darker. And it made your breath catch in your throat.

"How many times do I have to say it?I’m pretty sure I already finished it," you shot back, trying to sound as mean as possible to shoo him away, but you couldn’t silence the sound of your heart pounding loudly in your chest. "I won. You lost. End of story."

He didn’t seem fazed by your resistance. In fact, his smile only widened, an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

"Maybe. But I don’t think it’s over just yet. You see, I have another game in mind. One you might find… much more interesting."

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer. Too close. The air around you suddenly felt thick and heavy. Before you could react, he reached up, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm as he held the door open just a little wider, his grip surprisingly strong.

“Just wait a second,” he said in that low, smooth voice, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "This time, there’s no escape."

You swallowed hard, a mix of confusion and arousal swirling inside you. Why was he doing this? Why were you still standing there? Why was your body betraying you, craving something you couldn’t quite put into words?

You tried to back away, but he was already pressing himself into the doorway, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering a little too long.

“I told you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough now. “I don’t lose.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance completely and pressed his lips into yours. It was fierce, demanding, his hands on your waist pulling you closer, the pressure of his body sending shockwaves through you. You gasped into the kiss, feeling the heat intensify as he deepened it, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands, on instinct, found their way to his chest, but he was already guiding you back into your apartment, the door falling closed behind him with a soft thud. You barely noticed it as your body reacted to him. Instinctively, your hands were pulling him closer, your legs weak with need.

He paused only for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at you. The lust in his eyes made your pulse race. “You wanted a challenge, right?” he said, his voice husky. “Let’s see how far you’re willing to go now.”

And then, with a swift motion, he pushed you back against the wall, and his hands started to explore your body, touching every part of you. You let out a breathless laugh, caught between the strange tension and the undeniable pull between you two. You felt the weight of him press against you, the tent unmistakable in his pants.

“I think you’ve already won,” you said, breathless, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. He pulled back slightly, giving you a look that sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. “Then let’s see if you’re ready to finish this game.”

His lips gradually moved to your neck, kissing and biting softly as his hands slid beneath your clothes, feeling the smoothness of your skin. Every touch made you shiver, every kiss igniting a fire within you. You gasped as his hands worked their way down, finding the heat between your legs, making you ache for him even more.

Without another word, he slowly undid your clothing, his movements deliberate and controlled, yet full of hunger. His lips trailed down your body, each touch, each caress, sending you into a spiral. By the time his hands found their way to your most sensitive spots, you were already a mess, your body aching for more.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice dark and velvety, as he hovered above you, his fingers teasing just at the edge of what you needed. You nodded, too far gone to hold back any longer.

"Then let's finish what we started," he says. 

The game is much simpler now. The only rule being… the first to cum loses.

[rafecameronssl4t]

I LOVED the “Who invited you?” one, so i was thinking… maybe a Thornton!reader x season 3!rafe, where Rafe and reader are secretly dating and reader tells about it to sofia, not knowing she had a crush on Rafe, so she tells everything to Topper

Stay in your lane || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: so sorry this took me forever to reply to but hope you like it!!! added my own little twist in the end reminder that requests are open!!!!

Warnings: mentions of smoking, suggestive content, if theres anything else, lmk!

Word count: 1,884

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you step into the country club, the cool air conditioning providing instant relief from the summer heat, you're greeted by a familiar face. "Hey," Sofia's voice carries a warm, welcoming tone as she catches your attention. Her honey-coloured hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, and she looks every bit the part in her crisp, white polo shirt.

"Sofia, right?" you say with a smile, sliding your sunglasses up onto your head. She nods with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling. "That's me! And you're Y/n, Topper's sister," she says confidently, her gaze lingering on you for a moment as if to commit your face to memory.

"Yeah, that's right," you reply, your tone light and friendly as you confirm her guess. "Can I get you a table?" she offers, her hand subtly gesturing towards the dining area where groups of people are already seated, enjoying their meals and conversations.

You shake your head gently, your smile widening. "Oh no, I'm here with someone," you explain, a hint of warmth in your voice. Sofia's expression shifts as her lips form a small 'o' of understanding. "Well, enjoy!" she responds, her smile returning, though there's a hint of something else in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or intrigue.

You reciprocate her smile, offering a small wave before you turn to walk away. As you move towards the back of the club, you can feel Sofia's gaze following you, her attention unwavering until you disappear from sight.

~

Sofia stepped into the secluded section of the country club, balancing a tray of drinks with practiced ease. The chatter of the main dining area faded behind her as she ventured deeper into the quieter, more exclusive part of the club. As she approached the table, she quickly recognised you sitting there, and a curl of smoke caught her eye, obscuring the person seated across from you.

"Iced tea and a Westbrook?" Sofia announced as she drew closer, her voice steady. But as she placed the drinks on the table, her eyes widened in surprise as she finally saw who you were with—Rafe Cameron, his presence unmistakable.

“Thanks, Sof,” you responded warmly, your smile reaching your eyes as you accepted the glass of iced tea from the tray. Sofia’s attention drifted towards Rafe, who sat across from you with an air of nonchalance. He casually exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke, his intense blue eyes never leaving you as he flicked the ashes into the nearby ashtray.

His gaze was unwavering, almost possessive, as he watched you, barely sparing Sofia a glance. It was clear that his focus was entirely on you, as if the rest of the world, including Sofia, simply didn’t exist in that moment. The casual way he leaned back in his chair, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, contrasted sharply with the tension in Sofia’s chest.

"Y-you're welcome," Sofia stammered, caught off guard by the sight of the two of you together. She quickly realised that her surprise was showing, and she forced a polite smile before retreating, her mind racing as she walked away, the image of you and Rafe together lingering in her thoughts.

~

As Sofia made her way outside, she hauled the heavy bags of rubbish towards the bins at the back of the country club. Her thoughts were preoccupied, replaying the scene she had witnessed earlier of you with Rafe. The image of the two of you together lingered in her mind, stirring a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite pin down.

Lost in these thoughts, something in the parking lot suddenly caught her attention—Rafe Cameron’s truck parked in the parking lot. Her steps faltered as she saw you step down from the passenger side, a playful smile on your lips as you tugged your dress back into place.

Sofia’s heart raced, and without thinking, she ducked behind a nearby tree, hoping to remain unnoticed. Peeking out from her hiding spot, she watched as Rafe emerged from the car, his confident smirk evident even from a distance.

He moved towards you with a casual grace, his hand trailing down your back before giving your ass a light, possessive squeeze. The gesture was intimate, familiar, as if this wasn't the first time he'd done it. Then, Rafe leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that seemed to linger just a little too long.

Sofia could feel her chest tighten as she observed the scene, her mind reeling from the implications. She watched as he then walked you to your Porsche, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you with ease.

He opened the driver's door for you, the gesture almost gentlemanly, before leaning in for one last kiss. The way you smiled at him before driving off sent a pang of something unidentifiable through Sofia’s chest—jealousy? Surprise? Disbelief? Maybe all three.

As your car disappeared from view, Sofia’s eyes remained glued to Rafe. Just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he suddenly turned his head in her direction, as if sensing her presence. Panic surged through her as she let out a quiet gasp, instinctively slapping a hand over her mouth and pressing herself harder against the rough bark of the tree.

She remained frozen, barely daring to breathe, until she heard the roar of Rafe’s engine as he sped off. Only then did she dare to move, her heart pounding in her chest. Of course, you and Rafe were together. The thought settled heavily in her mind, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. It was almost expected, yet seeing it with her own eyes was something else entirely.

~

"Hey, Sof," you greet her with a warm smile as you walk up to the bar and take a seat. Sofia returns the smile, but there's a slight tension in her expression, a tightness that you don't seem to notice. "Hey, what can I get you?" she asks, her voice pleasant but lacking its usual warmth.

"An iced tea will be fine, thanks," you reply, settling into your seat. Sofia nods and begins preparing your drink. As she works, your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. Sofia can't help but eavesdrop as you answer it. "Hey," you say into the phone, your lips curving into a smile as you listen to the person on the other end.

"Yeah, 1 p.m. is fine." Sofia continues making your iced tea, her curiosity piqued, wondering who you're talking to. When the call ends, you smile at Sofia, who quickly averts her eyes, focusing on placing a straw into your glass before pushing it across the bar towards you.

"Thank you," you say, taking a sip of the iced tea. You then pick up your phone again, your fingers tapping away as another smile forms on your lips, seemingly in response to a message. Sofia, now cleaning some glasses nearby, can't hold back her curiosity any longer.

"So… you and Rafe, huh?" she asks, her tone laced with subtle intrigue as she glances over at you. You look up from your phone, a light giggle escaping your lips. "Yeah?" you respond, a bit amused by her question. Sofia purses her lips, nodding as she tries to process this new information, a flutter of jealousy stirring in her chest.

"I didn't know you guys were dating," she continues, her voice careful, as if trying to gauge your reaction. You hum softly, playing with the straw in your glass. "Between you and me, we were friends with benefits for a while before he asked me out properly," you admit with a small, almost secretive smile.

Sofia nods, doing her best to hide her surprise, but there's a flicker of something in her eyes—disbelief, maybe even a touch of envy that she quickly tries to suppress. Her mind races, wondering how she missed the signs, and why the thought of you with Rafe unsettles her so much.

"Does Topper know?" she asks, her tone slightly more pointed as she looks at you. Your eyes snap to hers, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged with something unspoken, a tension that Sofia struggles to ignore.

"No, he doesn't know yet. We'll tell him soon enough, though," you reply, your voice steady. "Right now, he just thinks we're really good friends." Sofia hums in response, trying to mask the pang of jealousy as she watches you return to your phone, clearly engrossed in your conversation with Rafe.

You finish your drink and stand up, offering Sofia a warm smile. "Thanks for the drink, it was so good," you say sincerely before turning and walking off, leaving Sofia standing behind the bar, her thoughts racing as she watches you disappear from view.

~

When Sofia caught sight of Topper and Rafe walking into the country club, her heart began to race, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety flooding her system. The two of them made an imposing pair, effortlessly commanding attention as they approached the bar.

Sofia's gaze followed their every step, her pulse quickening when Rafe’s eyes met hers. He held her gaze for a brief moment before leaning in to whisper something to Topper. Without a word, Rafe then turned and walked outside, leaving Topper alone at the bar.

"Just my usual, thanks. Make it two," Topper said, leaning casually against the polished wood. His tone was indifferent, his eyes lazily scanning the room as if the bar and its staff were just another part of the scenery. Sofia nodded, accustomed to his detached manner, and began preparing the drinks.

As she worked, she stole a glance at Topper, feeling a sudden surge of boldness. Clearing her throat, she decided to speak up. "Y/N's not joining the two of you tonight?" she asked, her voice steady despite the nerves bubbling underneath.

Topper’s attention snapped back to her, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. A dry chuckle escaped his lips, the sound laced with a hint of amusement. "And what makes you think my little sister should be here with us?" he asked, his tone edged with curiosity as he watched her skillfully mix the drinks.

Sofia felt her confidence grow, fueled by the moment and the subtle power shift she sensed. She met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. "I'm not sure, I just thought she'd join you guys since she and Rafe are a couple now," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she shrugged her shoulders.

For a brief second, Topper went silent, and Sofia braced herself for his reaction. She expected surprise, maybe even a flash of anger or disbelief. But instead, Topper's response was cold and indifferent, his expression unreadable. "Don't see why that concerns you, Sofia," he said, his eyes drifting towards the view outside, his interest in the conversation fading as quickly as it had sparked.

Sofia's eyes widened, not prepared for his dismissive tone. "Oh, no—I was just wondering—" she stammered, her initial confidence rapidly dissolving under his gaze. Topper’s stare sharpened, cutting her off before she could finish. "I think you forget yourself sometimes," he said, his voice chillingly calm.

"Just because you work here in Figure 8, it doesn't give you the right to go sticking your nose in our business, yeah? So stay in your lane," He grabbed the glasses she had just finished preparing, his hand steady, his demeanor cold.

With that, he walked off without another glance, leaving Sofia standing there, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She hadn’t expected Topper to speak to her like that—so harshly, so dismissively. The words stung, lingering in the air long after he had disappeared, and Sofia was left alone.

[daisymbin]

for lovers who hesitate - choi seungcheol

warnings: cheating ex, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), shotgun marriage (not reader), some curse words, mentions of blood (seungcheol in a fight), some angst (mostly on seungcheol's part, some of reader's towards the end) + this is a long fic so I'm sure I missed out stuff, my apologies. please let me know what I missed out so I can add them in!

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: fake dating, resurface of old feelings (reader) & a down bad choi seungcheol

wc: 13k (not sure what happened i was aiming 3500-5000 but oh well.)

a/n: 13k words...my longest fic on here yet..... this took quite awhile, even proofreading was a challenge, so I hope you guys enjoyed this one! but fr, I early respect and admire authors who always belt out 30k word fics, it's really not easy i don't even wanna think about it. it's one thing to get a long fic done and another to proofreading it all oof. ... and no writer really only proofreads it once

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

“you've got mail~” seokmin sings down the hallway of your shared apartment, “it looks like a wedding invite…” his voice trails off, “are any of our friends getting married? why didn't I receive one?”

seokmin's question was reasonable, you did both have the same friend group, you grew up together, having tons and tons of mutual friends, you went almost everywhere together. he's like the brother you never had. but now he's got your interest piqued as well. who could it be?

on your hand sits a wedding invitation, beautifully adorned with gold accents, pink flowers litter the edges of the invite, a bright pop of colour in contrast to the plain white.

seokmin snatches the invite out of your hand, opening the invite as he reads, “you are cordially invited to celebrate the joy of han- what the fuck? is this a joke?” seokmin shuts the invite close and crumples it, “what the hell does that guy want?”

“han minjun?” you asked as curiosity plagues your mind. seokmin’s reaction only amplifies your own confusion, and you reach out to grab the crumpled invitation from his hands, smoothing it out with trembling fingers. his name stares back at you, a name you had once thought you’d never have to see or hear again. but here it is, boldly printed, like a ghost from the past come to haunt you.

“han minjun…” you murmur, your voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of disbelief and absurdity. the memories come rushing back like a tidal wave, each one hitting you harder than the last. you remember the good days first, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but those sweet memories are soon overshadowed by the darker ones, the ones you had worked so hard to forget.

you remember the way he’d become distant, how the warmth in his eyes had faded, and the excuses he’d given whenever you asked what was wrong. you remember the pit in your stomach when he’d cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was swamped with work, even though you could hear the laughter of friends in the background whenever he called.

then there was that one night, the night everything shattered. you had gone to his apartment, unannounced, carrying takeout and hoping to surprise him. the sight that greeted you instead was something you’d never forget. minjun had been in his living room, his hand tugging on another girl’s hair, the other on her waist as they makeout heavily. their light giggles echoing through the walls you thought you knew so well. you’d dropped the food in shock, the containers spilling onto the floor, and the way minjun’s face had paled when he saw you… it was a moment forever etched into your heart.

“its not what it looks like,” he’d said, scrambling for an explanation, but all you felt was betrayal, the heartache, the realization that the person you’d trusted had broken you in a way you never thought possible.

you come back to the present as seokmin's voice pulls you back, “oh i dropped a post it, ‘hope to see you there - kim hanna’ who the hell is kim hanna?” seokmin reaches for the invite again, his eyes scanning the words imprinted on the paper, “kim hanna…isnt she the girl he cheated on you with? that little bi- how dare she send this invi- SHE'S MARRYING HIM?” seokmin's mouth ran faster than body allowed, never finishing his sentence, but you heard and understood every word.

you snatch the invite back. the wedding is in 2 weeks.

are you hurt? no. heartbroken? no. sad? no. upset? just a little bit. angry? oh yes, yes you were. all the anger still simmering beneath the surface as you grip the wedding invite tightly. seokmin watches you with concern, his earlier frustration shifting into worry as he notices the way anger starts to consume you.

“you okay?” he asks gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

you softened, “yeah i just… i can’t believe he’s getting married after everything he did.”

seokmin’s grip tightens, his protective brother instincts kicking in. “you don’t have to go,” he says firmly. “and if you decide to, you won’t go alone. i’ll be right there with you, you know the boys will be too. whatever you need.”

his words bring a small sense of comfort, but the invitation still feels like a dagger, reopening wounds you thought had finally healed. “oh I'm definitely going,”

“why?”

“just because. & I need a date-”

“I can be your date.”

“no you can't.”

“why not?”

“because i need my date to be my fake boyfriend. i cant show up all single to an ex's wedding & everyone knows we grow up together. we're practically siblings we would never ever date each other! that's disgusting."

seokmin's fake dramatic gasp only leaves your laughing, the anger that once resided is now long forgotten. “how can you say that?” he continues, “don't you watch movies? don't you read books? or even better, fanfiction? that's like a really popular trope and it's popular for a reason! why? because it's real, it happens. what if I'm in love with you and you just don't know it? then what? you could have seriously hurt my feelings!”

“yeah could have, that means I didn't. and don't think I forgot about the time we all played truth or dare and chan dared you to kiss me and you literally threw up from how repulsed you were by me. how could you possibly be in love with me? unless...you puked because you were nervous.." you said as you wiggled your eyebrows disturbingly. “also what hell fanfiction do you read? why didnt i know about that?”

“EW!!!" he screams as he steps away from you, "AS IF YOU COULD EVER MAKE ME NERVOUS!"

“& the fanfiction? what do you read? come on, spill!”

“that's none of your business.”

“seok-”

“beyonce x reader.” it was almost as if he was dying to tell you.

the laugh you burst out only brings relief to seokmin, now he knows you're really okay. you've moved on, just angry at the audacity of them. “please beyonce would never pick you.” you joked as you got up from the sofa. “come on, be serious, this is serious stuff. I need a fake boyfriend.”

“ask seungcheol.” seokmin answers easily without missing a beat, as if the answer was obvious.

“why seungcheol?” you heart raced at the mere idea of seungcheol being your date for the night, let alone boyfriend.

“because…he never says no to you. like ever,” he gives a brief, small smile before he turns to walk away. “oh and also, don't you think he'd fit the role perfectly?”

[—]

but that's what happens when seokmin plants the idea in your head, because you now find yourself in seungcheol's apartment.

you sit in seungcheol’s living room, heart pounding as you try to muster the courage to speak. he’s standing in front of you, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, looking at you with his usual gentle, patient expression. but somehow, today, that patience makes your nerves worse. you’re not sure why you’re suddenly so embarrassed; maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to search your face for any hint of what’s coming.

“so… what did you want to ask me?” he prompts, his voice warm and inviting, though there’s a hint of curiosity lurking beneath it.

you swallow, your palms damp. “you can totally say no if you want to, there’s no pressure at all but um-”

seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow at your hesitation, “you’re making me nervous,” he jokes, though there’s a genuine note of concern in his eyes. “what’s going on?”

you inhale deeply, avoiding his gaze as you force the words out. “so, i got this wedding invite. from…my ex.” you don’t have to elaborate for seungcheol to know which ex you mean. his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a flash of something dark passing over his expression before he smooths it out.

“han minjun,” he says, and the way he says the name makes it sound like a curse. his hands uncross, one clenching the back of a chair as he leans into it. “are you… are you okay?”

“yeah,” you say quickly, “i’m okay, really. just…it's in two weeks, and he’s marrying the girl he—” you stop yourself before the floodgate of bad memories start flowing. you look up at seungcheol, feeling your face grow warm. “anyway, that’s not the point. the point is…i need a date.”

seungcheol’s eyes soften, his tension melting away just a bit. “oh,” he says, and a smile tugs at his lips in realization, “you want me to be your date?”

“yes. i mean-” you fidget with the hem of your shirt. “only if you’re okay with it. you don’t have to-”

“of course,” he interrupts, his answer immediate, his voice firm. “if it’s for that, there’s no way i’d say no.” his protective instincts flare up at the mere thought of you facing your ex alone, and he wants to be there for you, to shield you from any pain that might resurface.

you feel relief wash over you, but then the real request lodges itself in your throat. you take a deep breath. “but… not just as a date,” you say quietly. “i need… i need a fake boyfriend. i can’t just show up to his wedding…single.”

seungcheol blinks, and for a moment, he thinks you’re joking. you watch as his expression shifts, surprise giving way to something more complicated. his smile falters, and his eyes search yours for any hint of hesitation, or a joke even. any indication that you might realize what this could mean for him.

a fake boyfriend. the words echo in his mind, and his heart aches, even as he tries to keep his face neutral. he’s spent the past 3 years hiding his feelings, protecting your friendship, waiting for a moment that never seemed to come. and now, here you are, asking him to pretend.

“a fake boyfriend,” he repeats, and his voice is steady, but there’s a hint of something broken underneath. he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to hold your hand, to smile at you, to pretend to be the one who gets to loves you openly…only to have it all stripped away when the charade is over. he knows he’s setting himself up for heartbreak, but how can he say no to you? how could he ever refuse you when you look at him like that?

“cheol?” you ask hesitantly, noticing his pause. “is that… is that too much to ask? i’m sorry, it’s just-”

he shakes his head quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “no, it’s not too much,” he says softly. “if that’s what you need, then… i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up with hope, and he wishes he could bottle up the way you look at him, keep it forever.

“really,” he confirms, even though his heart is already starting to fracture. he pushes down the longing, the desperate yearning to be more than just a fake. because he knows this is all he’ll get—a bittersweet taste of something he can’t truly have. but for now, he’ll take what he can get. even if it means breaking his own heart for the chance to be close to you.

[—]

“rules. we need rules. oh and boundaries. just to be safe, you know? not make it weird.” you informed as you pick up a piece of blank paper & pen from your desk before jumping onto bed.

seungcheol lies on his stomach on your bed as he waits for you, “what kind of rules and boundaries do you have in mind?” he asks.

“well for one, no falling in love. like, we both have to promise that this stays strictly pretend. we can’t let it mess with our friendship.”

for a moment, silence fills the room. when you glance at seungcheol, his expression is unreadable. “no falling in love,” he repeats quietly, his voice almost too steady. you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens, the way he clenches his fist against the sheets.

you give him a nervous smile. “exactly. we both need to agree to that.”

“right,” he says, his voice softer now. “no falling in love.” he repeats louder this time, his heart aches at the irony, because if only you knew how deeply he’s already fallen. but he forces himself to nod, to play along, to act like he isn’t breaking the very first rule you laid out just by being here. “any other rules?”

“um, yeah,” you continue, scribbling your next point onto the paper. “okay,” you say, oblivious to the turmoil in his chest. “it has to be believable. like, no half-assing it. if we’re going to do this, we have to commit. but, uh, within reason, of course.”

seungcheol chuckles at that, the sound breaking through the tension. “within reason?” he echoes, his smile genuine this time.

“yeah, nothing too….much,”

“& what exactly is too much?”

“kisses,” you answer without missing a beat.

seungcheol smiles, "so, i can’t kiss you, even if it’s just for an act?"

you pause, thinking over his question. the way he says it, so casual yet so heavy, sends a shiver down your spine. “i mean… kisses are too intimate. that crosses the line.” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how nervous the thought of kissing him makes you.

seungcheol watches you closely, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “too intimate?” he repeats, almost teasingly, but there’s something more in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “but aren’t we supposed to look like we’re really together? won’t people think it’s suspicious if we… don’t at least pretend that we’re comfortable with that?”

“no one’s expecting a porno of us making out,” you argue, your cheeks warming at the implication. what a poor choice of words. “hand-holding, hugs, maybe a forehead or a cheek kiss if we’re feeling bold. but anything beyond that…” you trail off, your mind spinning and butterflies threatening to invade your tummy at the thought of seungcheol’s lips anywhere near yours.

he hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. “so, kisses are off the table. got it,” he says, though there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that you dont pick up. “any other rules?”

“that's all i can think of for now, what about you? anything you dont want me to do? anything to add?” you ask.

“no, I'll do whatever you want me to.” he says, a mixture of fondness and longing swirling in his chest.

“okay, i guess we're really doing this huh?” you ask as you feel some tension leave your body.

“yeah,” he murmurs, even as his heart screams at the unfairness of it all. if only you knew just how real it already was for him.

[—]

“did you actually really ask seungcheol to be your fake boyfriend?” seungkwan questions, taking another sip from his iced americano, his eyes narrowing at you suspiciously.

you sigh, pressing your palms to your face. “how did you even find out about that?”

“seokmin told me. now answer me! did you actually?” seungkwan presses, his tone both exasperated and concerned. he’s your best friend. he knows every secret, every late-night confession, and every tear you’ve ever shed over seungcheol.

you glance away, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “yeah... i did,” you admit softly.

seungkwan lets out a small groan, leaning back in his seat. he’s silent for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his judgment hanging between you. but there’s something else there, too. something heavier, deeper. regret, maybe.

four years ago, you were a helpless mess, pinning after seungcheol like a lovesick fool. seungkwan remembered the way you’d light up whenever seungcheol was around, the way your laughter sounded a little brighter, your smile a little wider. and he remembered the way seungcheol seemed oblivious, never showing a sign of returning your feelings.

seungkwan had wanted to help you. he’d been desperate to see you happy, to save you from the heartache that came from unrequited love. so he’d done the only thing he could think of at the time: he’d set you up with someone else.

“do you remember when i introduced you to minjun?” seungkwan asks, his voice suddenly quieter, more somber.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “of course i do,” you reply. how could you forget? you’d been resistant at first, clinging to the faint hope that seungcheol would notice you one day. but seungkwan had been insistent. he’d told you that minjun was a good guy, someone who could make you happy, someone who could help you move on.

“you were so against it,” seungkwan recalls, his lips curving into a wistful smile. “but you finally agreed, and... well, you actually hit it off.”

a small laugh escapes your lips, though it lacks any real humor. “yeah. we did.”

for a while, dating han minjun had felt like a breath of fresh air. he was charming, thoughtful, and everything you thought you needed. for a moment, you’d even believed you’d moved on from seungcheol. but now, years later, here you were again, tangled up in your feelings for him, pretending to date him, no less.

seungkwan’s expression softens as he looks at you. “you know, i really did think minjun was a good guy back then. i just... i didn’t want to see you hurt anymore.��� his voice wavers, and you can tell he feels guilty, even if it wasn’t his fault that things turned out this way.

“i know,” you murmur. “you were just trying to help.”

seungkwan sighs, setting his juice box down. “but now you’re back to seungcheol, except this time it’s... fake. and that worries me.”

your throat tightens, and you don’t know how to explain that being with seungcheol, even if it’s just for show, feels better than being with anyone else. even if it hurts a little. or maybe a lot.

“it’s complicated,” you whisper, but seungkwan isn’t satisfied. his eyes bore into yours, filled with worry and protectiveness, like he’s already bracing for the heartbreak he’s sure is coming.

[—]

“do you think we should pick something that matches or just, you know, kind of goes together?” you ask, sifting through rows of dresses, your fingers brushing over various shades of fabric.

seungcheol tries to focus on the suits in front of him, but he’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your voice lilts at the end of your question. “hm?” he clears his throat, hoping you don’t notice how he’s completely lost his train of thought. “yeah, matching is… good.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “that didn’t answer my question, cheol.”

he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “sorry. what was it again?”

“do you want our outfits to match?” you repeat, holding up a dress. it’s a deep, elegant navy blue, and seungcheol’s heart does a weird little flip. “like this one? it’s the same color as that suit you’re holding.”

seungcheol swallows hard, imagining the two of you side by side, perfectly coordinated, like a couple in a fairytale. he tries to shake the thought away. “yeah, that’s… perfect,” he says, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

you seem satisfied with his answer, disappearing into the dressing room to try it on. seungcheol stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, heart pounding for no reason he can justify. he’s known you for years, been by your side for countless moments, but something about this—the idea of the two of you dressed up together, the way you trusted his opinion—feels different, it makes his heart race.

“cheol?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, his breath catching in his throat as you step out of the dressing room.

he’s not prepared for the sight. you look… breathtaking, the dress fitting you in a way that leaves him momentarily stunned. his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. it’s like he’s forgotten how to speak.

you tilt your head, concern flickering in your eyes. “is it bad?”

“no!” he blurts out, voice cracking embarrassingly. he clears his throat again; surprised at his own voice, his cheeks burning. “no, you look—” he stammers, searching for the right words, his mind a complete mess. but then, he smiles his boyish smile, his dimples dipping more than they usually do & says “god, you look… beautiful. really beautiful.”

you blink, taken aback, and seungcheol swears he sees your cheeks flush a little. he’s painfully aware of how warm his own face feels, how his hands are suddenly clammy.

“thank you,” you say, your voice softer now. you look at him, eyes wide and earnest, and seungcheol can’t handle it. he has to look away, but not before he sees the small smile spreading across your face.

he fiddles with the cuff of his suit jacket, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “you… you really think this is the one?” he asks, his voice cracking again. he winces.

you nod, your smile growing. “i think it’s perfect. but… what about your suit?”

he’s still trying to recover from seeing you in that dress, but he manages to nod. “right, my suit,” he says, forcing himself to focus. “i’ll go try it on.”

you sit down on a bench, and seungcheol practically sprints to the fitting room, his heart pounding. he stares at his reflection as he pulls on the navy suit jacket, trying to breathe. he looks like a mess, his hair sticking up from how many times he’s run his hands through it, his face still red.

“come on, cheol,” he mutters to himself. “get it together.”

when he finally steps out, he catches the way your eyes light up, the way you look him over and nod approvingly. “that’s perfect,” you say, and his heart does that stupid flip again. “we’ll look great together.”

he laughs, but it’s a weak attempt to hide how fast his heart is racing. “yeah. we will.” the words come out before he can stop them; even he knows he sounds completely & irrevocably smitten but he can’t help it, not when you’re looking at him like that.

[—]

“so, did you say yes to being her date?” seokmin asked casually, thumbs tapping furiously at the controller in his hands as he and seungcheol tried to hold their ground in the game. “you know, her fake boyfriend and all that?”

seungcheol’s fingers faltered on the buttons for a split second, and he shot seokmin a glare. “yah, focus on the game, we can't lose,” he grumbled, feeling his face heat up. but, of course, seokmin had to bring it up now.

“wait, what?” wonwoo’s attention snapped away from the screen, his character on the verge of getting attacked. he gawked at seungcheol. “when did this happen? and why didn’t you tell us?”

soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his character in the game momentarily stood still. “hold on, hold on,” he said, nearly dropping his controller in shock. “hyung, you’re telling us you agreed to be her date and fake boyfriend, and we’re only hearing about this now?”

“can we not talk about this?” seungcheol muttered, trying to refocus on the game, but his heart was racing. the way his stomach twisted at the mention of you and the fake dating arrangement wasn’t something he wanted to discuss—especially not with his friends teasing him about it.

“absolutely not,” soonyoung protested, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten. “this is big news, hyung! you have to spill.”

“yeah, seungcheol,” wonwoo added, a sly grin spreading across his face. “why didn’t you tell us? don’t act like it’s not a huge deal.”

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders tensing as he kept his eyes on the screen. “because it’s not a big deal, its only for a day anyway,” he insisted, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.

“you’re so full of it,” wonwoo said, barely holding back a laugh. “you've been in love with her for god knows how long, now you agreed to be her date and pretend to be her boyfriend. how is that not a big deal?”

unfortunately, soonyoung & wonwoo, have possession over seungcheol's not so secret, secret. but really, everyone knows, it's only a secret to you, seungkwan & seokmin although seokmin has been starting to catch on for the past few months. everyone else has miraculously managed to somehow keep their mouth shut around seokmin and seungkwan for 3 years; knowing how close you are with the two of them. I guess in a way you could say the boys are loyal to him? anyways.

seungcheol’s grip on his controller tightened. “can we just focus on winning?” he pleaded, desperate to change the subject, but his friends’ curiosity was palpable.

“fine,” soonyoung said with an exaggerated sigh. “but we’re coming back to this later.”

just as seungcheol was about to let out a breath of relief, the sound of the front door opening made his heart stutter, and he turned his head, unable to help himself. you stepped into the apartment, bags in hand, looking slightly windswept but effortlessly beautiful.

“hey, i’m home!” you greeted, smiling at everyone.

seungcheol’s mind blanked, his focus slipping away entirely as he took you in. he barely registered seokmin’s frantic warning—“hyung, watch out!”—before his character was obliterated in the game.

“yes!” soonyoung cheered, throwing his hands in the air. “we won, wonwoo!”

wonwoo leaned back with a smug smile, “thank you,” he said, looking over at you.

you blinked, confused. “me? what did i do?”

wonwoo’s eyes glinted with mischief. “it’s nothing you need to know… yet,” he replied, his voice teasing, and he shot you a knowing smile. “but thank you anyway.”

you tilted your head, clearly still confused, but you shrugged it off. “okay, if you say so,” you said, heading down the hall. “i’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

seungcheol watched you disappear, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how badly he’d let himself get distracted. he could feel the heat rising to his face, embarrassment and longing twisting in his chest.

seungcheol couldn't let it show. or at least, he thought he didn’t. he tried to play it cool, act normal around you, and pretend that his heart didn’t stutter every time you called his name. but apparently, seokmin noticed.

“you’ve got that look again,” seokmin pointed out, a teasing lilt in his voice.

seungcheol turned to find seokmin leaning against the backrest of the sofa, a grin spreading across his face. he blinked, feigning ignorance. “what look?”

“you know,” seokmin drawled, pushing himself off the backrest to lean closer to seungcheol “that look you get when she’s around.”

seungcheol felt his pulse skip, an uncomfortable warmth creeping up his neck. he avoided seokmin’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, hoping his voice sounded steady.

“sure you don’t.” seokmin plopped down beside him, elbow nudging his ribs. “c’mon, hyung. you’re not exactly subtle.”

seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “it’s not like that,” he insisted, though even he knew how unconvincing he sounded.

seokmin raised an eyebrow. “really?” he asked, voice softening. “because the way you look at her…you look at her like you'd burn down the whole world for her.”

seungcheol’s throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together, finally meeting seokmin’s gaze. there was no judgment there, only curiosity and a quiet sort of understanding.

“i didn’t mean to,” seungcheol admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “it just… happened.”

seokmin’s smile was gentle now, the teasing gone. “and what are you gonna do about it?”

seungcheol’s hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, a sense of helplessness washing over him. “nothing,” he said, bitterness seeping into the word. “she’s too important. if i mess this up… i can’t lose her.”

seokmin studied him for a moment, the silence stretching between them. “but what if you don’t lose her?” he said quietly. “what if she feels the same way?”

seungcheol’s heart twisted painfully. the thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count, but he always pushed it away, too afraid to hope. “and what if she doesn’t?” he countered, his voice breaking. “i’d rather be close to her like this than lose everything.”

seokmin sighed, leaning back on his hands. “i get it,” he murmured. “but you can’t live your whole life being afraid. sometimes, you’ve got to take the risk.”

seungcheol let out a humorless laugh. “easy for you to say,” he mumbled, but his chest felt a little lighter, the weight of his secret shared, even if just for a moment.

seokmin’s smile returned, playful once more. “hey, i’m rooting for you,” he said, clapping a hand on seungcheol’s shoulder. “but seriously, the way you look at her… it’s gonna give you away one day.”

seungcheol swallowed, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “maybe,” he whispered. “but not today.”

seokmin grinned, standing up and offering a hand to pull seungcheol to his feet. “well, just know i’ll be there to say ‘i told you so’ when it happens.”

seungcheol took his hand, rising to his feet. “yeah, yeah,” he said, but his heart felt a little less heavy & a lot more hopeful.

[—]

seungcheol stood outside your bedroom door with seokmin, heart pounding as he took a steadying breath. it wasn’t the first time he was picking you up, but today felt different. maybe it was the gravity of the wedding you were attending, or maybe it was the fact that this arrangement had slowly become more real for him than he ever dared admit.

“hyung, you okay?” seokmin asked, glancing at him curiously.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “yeah,” he lied, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. “let’s just…get this over with.” he lied, it hasn't even started yet but he doesnt want it to end.

seokmin gave him a sorry look but said nothing, and before seungcheol could dwell on it, you opened the door to your room. his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot how to speak. you stood there, radiant in a simple yet elegant dress, hair styled perfectly, eyes sparkling with nervous anticipation.

he was so down bad for you, it was almost pathetic.

he couldn't help the boyish smile that adorned his face, “you look… beautiful.” he didn’t trust himself to say more, afraid that if he did, the truth would come spilling out.

a faint blush dusted your cheeks, and you smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart feel like it was doing somersaults. “thanks, cheol,” you said shyly, adjusting your dress. “you clean up pretty well yourself.

he let out a laugh, hoping it masked the way his pulse was racing. “you ready?” he asked, extending his hand to you. “our grand entrance awaits.”

you hesitated for the briefest moment, but then you slipped your hand into his, and he had to fight the urge to hold on tighter, to pull you closer and never let go. he couldn’t, of course. this was all an act. just a performance to keep up appearances, to help you save face in front of your ex and everyone else.

but god, how he wished it were real.

[—]

the car ride was quiet at first, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the soft music playing from the radio. seungcheol couldn’t help but glance at you every few seconds, noting the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your dress. he knew you well enough to recognize the signs of your anxiety, and his chest tightened.

“hey,” he said gently, reaching over to take your hand in his. your eyes widened in surprise, but you dont pull away. instead, you stared at your intertwined fingers, and he wondered if you could feel his heart pounding.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more careful. “if you’re not, we can turn around. we don’t have to go.”

you shook your head, a small, determined smile forming on your lips. “i’m fine,” you whispered. “it’s just… weird, you know? seeing him get married.”

seungcheol swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. he hated that minjun hurt you and how he couldn’t do anything but hold your hand and hope it was enough.

“if you want to leave at any point,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “just say the word. i’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like he was being laid bare under your gaze, your eyes boring into his. “thank you, cheol,” you murmured, and your voice cracked just a little. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his chest ached, a mix of longing and fear swirling inside him. he wanted to tell you that he’d always be there, that he’d never leave, but he didn’t. instead, he settled for rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping you couldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.

the silence in the car was comfortable, but electric, charged with something unspoken. the way your shoulders relaxed under his touch, the way your breathing evened out as he held your hand—it was almost enough to make him believe that you felt the same way.

but that was dangerous territory, and seungcheol knew better than to get his hopes up.

“you know,” he said lightly, trying to steer his thoughts away from the ache in his chest, “you’re kind of incredible. not everyone could handle a situation like this with so much grace.”

you laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “i don’t know about that or this grace you speak of,” you said. “i’m still trying to convince myself not to run away.”

“if you run,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll run with you. we can both escape and go somewhere far away. just the two of us.”

the joke made you laugh, but there was a wistful note to it, and seungcheol had to look away to keep himself from saying something stupid. his heart was a mess, pounding wildly with every word, every touch, every second he spent in your presence.

“thanks, cheol,” you said again, your voice quieter now. “really. i’m so lucky to have you.”

seungcheol drove on, your hand still in his, hoping that this moment would last a little longer.

[—]

the wedding had gone off without a hitch, at least on the surface. the vows had been exchanged, laughter and applause filling the air, and now the reception was in full swing. seungcheol had been trying his best to stay close to you, to keep you from feeling the weight of the memories this day might bring. but as he returned with your drinks, he froze.

there you were, standing stiffly, looking more tense than he’d seen you all night. and, of course, minjun was in front of you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he leaned in, saying something seungcheol couldn’t quite hear. your polite smile was brittle, your shoulders tense, and anger flared in his chest.

he forced himself to take a calming breath before approaching, setting your drinks down on a nearby table and stepping in between you & minjun, “hey,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm. “everything okay here?”

your eyes darted to him, a flicker of relief crossing your face. you tried to smile, but it wavered. “yeah,” you said, your voice a little too tight. “we were just… talking.”

minjun glanced at seungcheol, an eyebrow arching. “seungcheol?” he asked, a smug smile playing on his lips. “fancy seeing you here, i dont remember including you in the invite?” he quirked an eyebrow.

you opened your mouth, your voice coming out steadier this time. “actually, he's my plus one, since we're dating.”

“dating? as in, he's your boyfriend?” minjun asked as he sneaked a glance at seungcheol.

“yes, actually.” your words sent your stomach doing flips.

the disbelief on minjun’s face was palpable. he snorted, his gaze flicking between the two of you as if you’d just told a joke. “boyfriend? really?” he smirked, clearly unconvinced. “come on. that’s a little desperate, don’t you think?” minjun tries to reach for your hand.

before you could react, seungcheol stepped forward, his hand moving to reach for yours protectively; staking his claim. “i don’t think your wife,” he said, emphasizing the word with a hint of sarcasm, “would appreciate you making my girlfriend uncomfortable.”

minjun’s smile faltered, but he didn’t back down. “prove it,” he challenged, crossing his arms. “you really expect me to believe this… whatever this is?”

seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “we don’t need to prove anything to you,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “& you certainly don't have the right to ask for anything, much less a proof, not after all the shit you’ve done.”

minjun’s expression soured, but before he could respond, seungcheol turned to you, his eyes softening. “come on, pretty,” he murmured, his voice gentle and eyes earnest,. “dance with me?”

you stomach did somersaults, seungcheol watches you intently, he watches the way your expression melts into a grateful smile. you leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “thank you,” you whispered, so quietly he barely heard it.

his heart stuttered in his chest, warmth flooding through him. but he forced himself to push the feeling away, to remind himself that this was all for show. you were only doing this because minjun was watching, because you needed to keep up the pretense. there was no way you actually meant that kiss, no way you felt the same fluttering in your chest that he did.

but he couldn’t help the way his heart betrayed him, the way his entire body seemed to light up at the simple touch of your lips on his skin. he swallowed, hoping you didn’t notice the way his cheeks flushed, and offered you his hand.

“let’s go,” you said, taking his hand, your smile genuine and warm.

the music had shifted to a slow song, and seungcheol led you onto the dance floor, his fingers still intertwined with yours. his heart was pounding, his mind racing, but he tried to focus on you, on the way you were looking at him now, your eyes so full of trust and something he couldn’t quite place.

“thank you,” you said again, your voice a little steadier this time.

he gave you a small smile, trying to keep his emotions in check. “i’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice soft. “you know that, right?”

you nodded, your gaze flickering down to where his hand rested on your waist. “i do,” you whispered, and for a moment, he thought he saw something more in your eyes. something he desperately wanted to believe in.

seungcheol tried to ignore the way your body fit so perfectly against his, the way your smile sent his heart racing. he couldn’t let himself read too much into the way you were looking at him.

but it was so, so hard.

“cheol,” you said suddenly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “can i ask you something?”

he swallowed, his throat dry. “of course.”

“why did you say yes?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “to being my date and… pretending to be my boyfriend?”

his breath caught in his throat. he hadn’t expected that question, and he wasn’t sure how to answer without giving himself away. “because you needed me to,” he said finally, and it was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “and i’d do anything for you.”

your eyes softened, and he wondered if you could see right through him, if you knew just how badly he was hurting, just how desperately he wanted this to be real.

“you’re too good to me,” you whispered.

he shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said. “i’m just… selfish.”

you tilted your head, confused. “selfish?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words dying on his tongue. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t ruin this. “never mind,” he said, forcing a laugh. “just… ignore me.”

but you didn’t. your gaze lingered on him, searching, and he had to look away before he did something stupid, like confess right then and there.

“cheol,” you said, your voice so soft it made his heart ache. “what are you hiding?”

“nothing,” he lied, pulling you a little closer, trying to focus on the music instead of the way your eyes were looking right into his soul. “i’m not hiding anything.”

but he was. he was hiding everything. the way he loved you, the way he wanted you, the way he’d give anything to be more than…this.

“okay,” you said finally, but he could hear the doubt in your voice. “if you say so.”

“you know,” he said as he let out a small sigh, his voice barely above a whisper, “you didn’t have to kiss my cheek just now. not for minjun’s sake, anyway.”

you tilted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i didn’t do it for him,” you said quietly as seungcheol watches your eyes sparkle and dilate, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

“then… why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

your gaze searching his face. “just because.. i wanted to.”

seungcheol’s mind went blank, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the sudden, overwhelming rush of hope that filled his chest. 

“should we call it a night?” you asked, your voice gentle as you turned to seungcheol, who still seemed lost in thought. you weren’t sure if it was because of the way you had kissed his cheek earlier or if he was still worried about you, but his expression had been hard to read.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in. “yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “let’s head home. but, uh, let me hit the bathroom real quick first?”

you nodded, offering him a small smile. “i’ll wait by the entrance.”

he nodded back, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he turned and made his way to the restroom. as he walked, he felt his heart racing, the memory of your soft kiss on his cheek replaying in his mind. you’d said it was just because you wanted to, but that couldn’t mean anything... right?

 seungcheol washed his hands, letting the cool water calm him down. he took a deep breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. he doesn't really want this night to end, he's not ready for that yet.

but that’s when he heard it: voices coming from one of the stalls, low but loud enough to catch his attention.

“man, i still can’t believe you're actually married,” one voice said, a hint of mockery in his tone. “and only because you got her pregnant. how the hell did you screw up that bad?”

what the hell? seungcheol’s jaw clenched, but he forced himself to stay quiet, listening.

“don’t remind me,” minjun’s familiar voice replied. “i know, okay? it’s not like i love her or anything. but i couldn’t just bail, you know? had to do the right thing, i guess.”

the right thing? seungcheol thinks to himself, yet cheating on you is okay?

the friend laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “still, hanna’s nothing compared to your ex. that girl is so much hotter than your wife. you should’ve stayed with her.”

seungcheol’s grip on the sink tightened, his knuckles going white.

“hey, i made a mistake,” minjun grumbled, clearly defensive. “she really is hot. i was just thinking with my other head back then, okay?”

“yeah, well,” his friend drawled, “i would’ve made a move on her tonight if she hadn’t walked in with that new boyfriend of hers. what’s his name again? seungcheol or something?”

“yeah, well, i tried to,” minjun admitted, and seungcheol could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “but he showed up before i could.”

“did you see the dress she was wearing?” minjun laughed as he added, “she's got such a killer body…bet I could make her cheat on that boyfriend of hers, what do you say? 50 bucks? bet on it?”

that was it. the final straw. anger flared hot and fierce in seungcheol’s chest, and before he knew it, he was storming over to the stall. he yanked the door open, and the look of shock on both men’s faces did nothing to quell his rage.

“what the fuck did you say? you think you can talk about her like that?” seungcheol growled, his voice low and dangerous. “after everything you’ve done?”

minjun barely had time to react before seungcheol’s fist connected with his jaw. the fight was quick, brutal, and messy, with fists flying and the sound of grunts echoing off the bathroom walls. seungcheol didn’t care about the pain in his knuckles or the way his cheek throbbed from a poorly blocked punch. all he cared about was defending your honor, protecting you from these men who had no right to even think about you, let alone look in your direction.

when seungcheol finally left the bathroom, his heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. his cheeks were slightly bloodied and his knuckles were bruised.

but before he could reach the entrance to get to you, someone grabbed his arm. he turned, only to see hanna, minjun’s wife, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. “oh my god,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “what happened to you?”

at first, she seemed genuinely worried, but then her eyes raked over him, and her concern twisted into something more flirtatious. she reached out, her hands brushing against his arms. “you look so hot like this with all the bruises,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his biceps.

seungcheol stiffened, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away. “don't,” he held a hand up, “i have a girlfriend,” he said firmly, stepping back. he glanced around, hoping you hadn’t seen any of this.

but you had. your eyes had caught sight of the scene, the way hanna's hands lingered on seungcheol’s arms, and your stomach twisted painfully. you didn’t understand why it hurt so much to see it, why your heart felt heavy and your chest ached. this was seungcheol, your good friend. you’d moved on from this heartbreak years ago... right?

you tore your gaze away, your mind spinning. you couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy, the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him with someone else, but it made no sense. seungcheol was just your friend. nothing more.

when seungcheol finally made his way over to you, unaware that you saw him & hanna, was careful not to mention it or the fight that happened. instead, he focused on the gossip he’d overheard in the bathroom. “hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “did you know?”

you barely registered his words, your mind still replaying the image of hanna's hands on his arms. your chest felt tight, and you couldn’t explain why.

“apparently,” seungcheol continued, “this whole wedding is a shotgun marriage. she’s pregnant, and that’s why they’re doing all this.” he paused, searching your face for any reaction, but you weren’t really hearing him.

“huh?” you finally said, blinking as you came back to the present. your eyes widened when you took in his bruised knuckles and the cut on his cheek. “oh my god, seungcheol. what happened to you?”

“did you hear anything of what i just said?” he asked, a mixture of frustration and worry in his voice.

you glared at him, your concern overshadowing everything else. “no, but i’m sure it’s nowhere near as important as this,” you snapped, gesturing to his bruised face and bloodied hands.

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders slumping. “it’s nothing,” he insisted, but he knew you wouldn’t let it go. not when you looked at him with so much worry, so much care, and it made his heart ache.

“nothing?” the depth of your furrowed brows going deeper, “you're bleeding, cheol.” your tone angry.  “come on,” you said, your voice softening. “i’m taking you back to my place. i need to take care of those wounds.”

he tried to protest, but you wouldn’t hear it. “please, cheol,” you whispered, and the way you said his name made his heart stutter. he wanted so badly to believe that you cared, that this wasn’t just about him being your friend.

“fine,” he relented, his voice barely above a whisper. “but only because you’re so stubborn.”

you gave him a small, relieved smile, and he felt his resolve weaken even more.

back at your apartment, you lead seungcheol to the bathroom, rummaging through the first aid kit with a determined focus. he sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching you with a mixture of awe and longing. it’s overwhelming how gentle you are with him, the way your fingers tremble slightly as you gather supplies to tend to his wounds. he wants to believe this moment means something more than simple concern for a friend, that the tenderness in your gaze holds feelings he’s been longing to hear you speak out loud.

“does it hurt?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you dab a damp cloth against the cut on his cheek, your touch feather-light.

“no,” he says, his gaze never wavering from your face. the sting is nothing compared to the ache of wanting you. his heart pounds relentlessly, each beat echoing the longing he’s kept hidden for so long.

you move to bandage his knuckles, your fingers lingering on his for just a moment longer than necessary. “you’re so reckless,” you murmur, but your tone is soft, carrying nothing but worry.

he swallows, throat tight. “i couldn’t stand hearing them talk about you like that,” he admits, the words escaping before he can second-guess them.

your hands freeze. you look up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he hesitates, regret mingling with vulnerability, wanting to tell you everything but afraid of what might come next. “just... they were saying things they shouldn’t,” he settles on, the explanation falling flat compared to the storm raging inside him. “i couldn’t let it go.”

the bathroom feels smaller, the air thicker. you lean in closer, a wrinkle of worry creasing your forehead. “seungcheol…”

his hand lifts before he can stop it, and his fingers brush your cheek, gentle and unsure. “i just want to keep you safe,” he whispers, voice cracking, heart lodged in his throat. “even if it means getting a little bruised up.”

you’re so close now that your breath mingles with his, warm and intoxicating. your chest tightens, and something inside you shifts. you can’t tell if it’s the tenderness in his voice or the way his eyes seem to hold a secret you’ve always yearned to know. you feel your pulse spike, your mind racing. all the feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury come rushing back with an intensity that scares you.

you kneel in front of him, biting back the realization that you never really moved on, that you never truly stopped loving him. your feelings have been buried, but they resurface now, raw and undeniable, and you can’t pretend anymore.

“tonight was...a lot,” seungcheol says quietly, breaking the heavy silence. his eyes search yours, trying to make sense of the tension thick in the room.

you nod, hands trembling slightly as you pull back, though not far enough to break the spell. “yeah,” you manage, voice unsteady. “it was.”

seungcheol watches you with a gaze so full of longing that it makes your heart ache. he’s proud of you, he’s always been proud of you, but the way he’s looking at you now is different. “you were amazing,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making your breath catch. “the way you handled everything… i’m so proud of you.”

his words break something inside of you, and before you know it, you’re leaning in, closing the distance. it’s an impulse, a mistake, but you just couldn't help yourself. your lips brush against his, and for a heartbeat, time stands still.

seungcheol freezes in shock, but then he responds. his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, and he kisses you back with a fervor that leaves you breathless. the tension snaps like a taut wire, replaced by a burst of passion, and everything you’ve both kept buried pours out.

his fingers tighten around your waist, your hands finding their way into his hair, and you lose yourself in him. the way he tastes, the way he holds you, feels like a dream you don’t want to wake from. your heart races as the kiss deepens, desperate and all-consuming.

but then reality crashes over you like a tidal wave. you pull back abruptly, breaking away, your eyes wide with shock and horror. seungcheol looks dazed, lips parted, hair slightly mussed from your hands, and the sight of him so undone because of you only makes the guilt worse.

“i-” you stammer, voice cracking as you scramble to your feet. “oh my god. i’m so sorry.”

“wait-” he begins, but you’re already moving, stumbling backward, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “i shouldn’t have… we promised we wouldn’t-”

“it’s okay,” he tries to reassure you, his voice gentle yet laced with desperation. he stands, reaching for you, but you take another step back, your emotions spiraling.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, overwhelmed and terrified by the feelings that won’t stop crashing over you. “i ruined everything.”

you feel tears prick your eyes, your chest aching with regret and confusion. the kiss shattered the fragile balance between you, and you don’t know how to piece it back together. “you should go,” you manage, voice cracking. “its getting late,” your head starts feeling dizzy, “I'll call you tomorrow.” 

before seungcheol can argue, before he can make sense of the whirlwind between you, you’re gone. you rush out of the bathroom, heart hammering, not sure where to go but needing to escape. the apartment feels suffocating, your feelings too much to handle, and you slam your bedroom door behind you.

you lean against it, sliding down until you’re curled up on the floor, tears spilling down your cheeks. what have you done? you kissed seungcheol, and now everything is a mess. the love you never let yourself acknowledge burns bright, and it terrifies you.

in the bathroom, seungcheol stands frozen, the ghost of your kiss still lingering on his lips. he’s never felt more hopeless, more in love, and more afraid that he’s lost you forever. the echo of your apology rings in his ears, and he clenches his fists, wishing he could take away the hurt and confusion you’re feeling.

he tells himself he’ll wait for you to call, but he’s terrified that this time, waiting might not be enough.

but still, seungcheol waits. 

the days stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. it had been a week since the wedding, a week since that kiss had turned his world upside down, and still, there was no call from you. you had promised, but the days passed in silence. he wanted so bad to be the one reaching out, but he knows you well enough to know that it wouldnt end well, and that you needed your own time to process things. but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between you. each morning he woke up with a sliver of hope, a quiet, desperate wish that today would be the day you would reach out. but by every nightfall, the silence was all he had. the silence, and the ache that gnawed at him constantly.

he kept replaying that moment over and over in his mind, the feel of your lips on his, the way your eyes had searched his face afterward. the hope, the confusion, the raw vulnerability—it haunted him, leaving him restless and on edge. there was something about the way you pulled away from him, your apology spilling out in a rush, that made his heart ache. his own feelings were a mess, tangled up in things he hadn’t fully understood until that kiss, much less you, right?

he tried to keep busy, to drown the thoughts that plagued him. the gym became his sanctuary, his second home, a place to work out the frustration, the ache in his chest. he lifted weights until his body screamed for rest, hoping that physical exhaustion would bring some peace. but no matter how much he tried to tire himself out, the ache remained, lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting for the quiet moments when it all came rushing back.

work was just a blur, the hours blending together as he went through the motions. he found himself distracted, staring at his phone more often than usual, his thumb hovering over your contact, only to put it down before he could hit send. what would he even say? what if you weren't ready yet & him reaching out only made things worse? what if you didn’t even want to hear from him? what if his feelings were just a one-sided mess that he’d have to live with forever?

the days bled into one another, each one more unbearable than the last. he couldn’t tell anyone how much he missed you—how much he longed to hear your voice, to see you again, to figure out what all of this meant. so he kept it all inside, bottled up, carrying the weight of his emotions on his own. there were moments when he could feel it, the weight of his longing pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. he had tried to be patient, to give you space, but with each passing day, that patience was wearing thin.

he wondered if he’d done something wrong. had he misread the situation? had he pushed too far when he kissed you back? maybe you only kissed him because of the atmosphere or adrenaline or whatever? every time he thought about it, he felt sick. maybe you didn’t feel the same way. maybe he had crossed a line, and now he was paying the price for it. the thought of you slipping further away from him was unbearable.

his phone sat on the coffee table, screen blank, mocking him with its silence. he had told himself he’d wait, that you’d reach out when you were ready, but the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it became to believe that. he wanted to hear your voice, to know that you weren’t angry with him, to know that the kiss hadn’t ruined everything between you. but instead, he sat in his apartment, surrounded by the deafening quiet.

& seungkwan? seungkwan had been on you about it for days.

"seriously, you’re just going to leave things like this?" seungkwan had said one morning, his eyes narrowing at you over his cup of coffee. "you kissed him. you kissed seungcheol hyung. and now you’re acting like it didn’t happen. you think he’s not waiting for you to come around?"

you hadn’t responded at first, unsure of how to even begin to process it. all you could think about was the kiss, and how everything felt so wrong and so right in that moment, and how now, in the aftermath, everything was a mess.

"you’ve been so quiet about this. and it’s obvious to everyone. you’re both miserable. don’t you get it?" seungkwan continued, his voice growing more insistent. "you can’t just let it go, not after that. you owe it to yourself & especially to him to figure out what this is. what he is to you."

you had shaken your head, turning away, not wanting to face the truth. "i don’t even know what it is. i don’t know if i—"

"you’re making it worse by not doing anything," he cut you off, his eyes narrowing. "stop running from it. just talk to him, okay? if you don’t, you’re going to regret it."

you sighed heavily, sinking back into the couch. you had never been good at this kind of thing, especially when it came to feelings. but something in seungkwan’s words made you pause. the last thing you wanted was to regret anything.

"i don’t know if i can," you murmured. "i don’t know if he’ll even want to talk to me after everything."

seungkwan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "stop thinking like that. he doesn’t know what to do either, so you’re both stuck, waiting for the other to make a move. just go to him. get your act together."

before you could respond, the door to your apartment unlocks, interrupting your conversation, and there stood seokmin, looking far too cheerful for the somber mood that had settled over you.

"hey, what’s going on in here?" he asked, stepping inside with his usual bright smile.

you shrugged, feeling the weight of seungkwan’s words pressing on your chest. "nothing much. just… thinking."

seungkwan immediately jumped in, as if he couldn’t help himself. "you need to go talk to seungcheol. i’m so done waiting for this mess to sort itself out."

seokmin raised an eyebrow, a knowing look on his face. "ah," he crossed his arms, settling into the couch. "you’re still haven't called huh?"

"no," you admitted, your voice small. "i don’t know what to say to him."

"yeah, well, you’re not the only one," seokmin said with a sigh, his tone softening. "but running away from it won’t solve anything. look, and you know what cheol's like. if you tell him you need space & time & that you'll call him, he's gonna listen & wait for you. he’s not going to make the first move until you do so go talk to him, okay? figure it out. or at least to put that guy out of his misery."

you nodded slowly, trying to take in his words. it wasn’t that simple. it never was. but seokmin had a way of speaking to you that made you feel like maybe, you could take that first step.

seungkwan was still persistent, though. "seriously, i’m not letting you off the hook. you still love him after all these years, don’t you?"

"i don’t know," you said, your voice cracking. "i think i do, but i don’t even know how to deal with even coming to terms that i like him. everything’s so messed up. i kissed him, and now i… i don’t know what to do with all of it."

seokmin looked at you with an almost knowing smile. "sometimes, things don’t have to be figured out all at once. it’s okay to just… see what happens. go to him and talk. take it one step at a time."

seungkwan nodded eagerly, as if the suggestion had finally gotten through to you. "exactly. just go. trust me, you’re both miserable. just fix it."

the decision was made. somehow, someway, you had to go to him. you didn’t know what you were going to say, or how you were going to fix everything that had gone wrong, but you knew you had to try. the thought of never knowing how he felt, or whether you had a chance, was unbearable.

it had been days since you last saw him. days since everything had spiraled. and now here you were, on the verge of either fixing things or making them worse. you stood frozen, unsure of what to do. your hands trembled slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely out of control.

you knocked softly, but the sound felt too loud in the quiet hallway. a few moments later, you heard the shuffle of footsteps from the other side, and your heart skipped a beat.

the door swung open, and seungcheol stood there, looking absolutely stunned to see you standing there. his eyes widened in confusion, and for a brief second, you both just stared at each other in silence.

he seemed to take a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "you… you’re here," he said quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "are you… okay?"

you didn’t know how to respond. you wanted to say so many things, but words felt like too much. you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to form a coherent sentence. the silence stretched, and then he spoke again, his voice breaking the tension.

"come in," he said softly, stepping aside to let you in, but you didn’t move. "did i… did i do something wrong? if i upset you, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. i really didn’t." his voice was strained, as if he was holding back something. "i know we agreed on the whole fake dating thing for just 1 night, and maybe i crossed a line. but i didn’t mean to. i didn’t mean to make things complicated. I.. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.”

he sounded so genuinely sorry, and that was the moment it hit you—seungcheol was just as lost as you were.

you swallowed, forcing yourself to step over the threshold. you walked inside, every part of you feeling as though you were making a decision you couldn’t take back. the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do or say next.

he gestured toward the couch, but neither of you sat. there was a tension hanging between you two, something unsaid but felt in the air. you stayed there, frozen, trying to process your thoughts while he watched you, waiting for something.

he cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. "come sit, please," he said. "talk to me, please. is it something i did? i… i can't fix it if i dont know what i did wrong."

you shook your head slowly, still unable to find your words. you felt like a mess, and you could tell by his expression that he felt the same. the weight of everything that had happened—the kiss, the awkward distance between you two after—was hanging over you both.

finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "it’s not your fault."

"what do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, a mix of hope and worry in his gaze. "what’s not my fault?"

"i kissed you," you muttered, the words coming out rushed, almost in a panic. "it was me. i shouldn’t have done it. and i’m sorry."

he seemed taken aback, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "but… why? why did you kiss me?” 

you bit your lip, looking down at the floor, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "i don’t know why," you admitted, the confession escaping before you could stop it. "i wasn't thinking…i just… i was jealous. i saw hanna with you, and i couldn’t stand it. i… i kissed you because of that, but now, i’m not sure if it was jealousy or because i like you."

seungcheol’s face softened, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of it. "you were jealous?" his voice was barely audible, as if the question itself was too much to bear. his eyes were glossy, and his hands trembled slightly at his sides. he took a step closer, his voice breaking as he spoke. "you… you like me?"

you took in a deep breath, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "i think so, i don’t know..I'm not sure but i don’t want to lose you over a stupid kiss."

seungcheol exhaled shakily as his heart falters to the pit of his stomach. he felt a mixture of anger, bitterness and heartbreak flare in his chest, his fingers threading through his hair as he took a moment to gather himself. "a stupid kiss," he repeated, “you dont know if you like me?” and there was a bitterness to his voice that made your chest tighten. he looked at you, his eyes shining with something raw, something that made your heart splinter.

"it's not just a stupid kiss to me," he whispered, and your breath caught. "do you know how long i’ve been in love with you? do you have any idea how many times i’ve tried to hold back these feelings because i was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same?"

your eyes widened, your knees nearly giving out at his words. "you… you're in love with me?" you whispered, barely able to believe it.

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound cracking in the air between you. "yeah," he said, his voice breaking on the word. "i’m in love with you. it’s been hell, watching you, waiting for the right moment, praying that maybe, one day, you'd feel the same. and then you kissed me, and god, for a second, i thought it was real. i thought maybe you felt it too."

your hands shook as you tried to process his confession, the weight of his words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless. "cheol…" you started, but he held up a hand, his gaze turning away from you.

"don't," he whispered, pain etched in every line of his face. "if you're not sure, if you don't know what you want, please… don't say anything. because this? this hurts too much."

your chest ached, your heart breaking at the sight of him, of the way he was barely holding himself together. "i’m sorry," you choked out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. "i didn’t know. i never realized—"

"that’s the thing," he interrupted, his voice strained. "i've always been here, and you never realized." he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his own tears. "i can’t… i can’t keep doing this if you don't feel the same,”

seungcheol softens as he took in a deep breath, “I can accept, no–I can understand if you don’t love me back,” he says, his voice breaking, “but i need you to at least be sure you like me. if you can’t even be sure you like me, then i don’t think i can do this.” his hands curl into fists on his knees, the weight of his words pressing into the air between you.

the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as everything you’ve been holding back crashes over you. “cheol,” you begin to confess, voice trembling, “i was in love with you four years ago. back then, before everything. before my ex.” your confession hangs heavy, and you can see the shock and pain in his eyes.

“four years ago?” he chokes out. he’s crying too, his tears slipping silently down his face. “why didn’t you tell me?”

you wipe at your face, trying to catch your breath. “because i thought it was over. i thought my feelings had become platonic, that they’d evolved into this safe, distant affection. but seeing you... seeing hanna flirt with you... it hurt. it hurt because i realized i never really let you go. i still love you, cheol. and it’s not just this soft, easy love. it’s the kind that makes me want you even when it hurts.”

his sob catches in his throat, and he reaches for you, his hands trembling. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confesses, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “i tried to hide it. i tried to hold it back, but i couldn’t. you’ve always been the one, even when i knew i shouldn’t feel that way.”

the two of you sit there, crying together, the years of longing, misunderstandings, and suppressed emotions finally crashing down. he cups your face, thumb brushing away your tears. “so now what?” you ask, voice small and broken.

seungcheol pulls back slightly, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes, but there's something vulnerable there too. he smiles as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "now... now i ask you out on a date," he says, his voice softer, but his tone filled with so much emotion. “but—” he pauses, his smile fading slowly as his gaze turns serious now, “i’ll give you…five dates.”

“what? what do you mean?” your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

seungcheol's smile returns as he takes in your pouty face before clearing his throat, “i'll let you decide if you still want me after that. no pressure. in case you change your mind.” his hand goes to reach for a stray hair near your cheek and tucks it behind your ear as he gives you a soft smile, still holding a certain sadness and uncertainty to it.

you smile softly, shaking your head. “i don’t need five dates to know my answer, cheol. i'm not changing my mind.” bold adrenaline suddenly pumps through your blood, and you hastily pull seungcheol closer to you in a quick motion, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and then you place a quick kiss on his lips. it's nothing romantic by any means, neither was it movie-scene-worthy. it's nothing like that, but it is more than enough to soothe your soaring heart, and it's definitely more than enough to send your message across to seungcheol.

seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise as you pull away. "you’re…sure.” this time, it wasn't a question.

"i'm sure," you repeat anyway for him, stepping into his arms as your heart flutters at the feeling of him finally pulling you in, his embrace as warm as you'd imagined.

his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and desperation that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like everything you've both been holding back for so long is coming unraveled, like this embrace is the start of something fragile but real. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and you feel his breath, heavy and uneven, as he holds on like he's afraid to let go.

"i've waited so long to hear you say that," he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. His words are shaky, the tremble betraying the vulnerability he’s still trying to hide. "i’ve wanted this for so long, but i never imagined it would feel this terrifying."

your hand finds his back, holding him just as tightly. "it’s terrifying for me too," you admit softly, your voice trembling. "but... i’m tired of being afraid.”

he pulls back slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes search your face. “let’s give this a real chance, even if it scares us. even if it’s hard." he whispers, a hint of a smile breaking through the sorrow that had clouded his expression. 

you nod, your eyes locked with his. "i want to," you say, feeling a fragile hope bloom in your chest. "i want us."

a soft, relieved laugh escapes his lips, and he pulls you into a real kiss this time—gentle, slow, and full of everything unspoken. It’s not perfect, but it feels like a promise, like a beginning you both desperately needed. you lose yourself in the moment, your heart pounding as the weight of everything finally starts to lift.

when you both pull away, breathless but smiling, seungcheol rests his forehead against yours. "so, about those five dates, even though you say you dont need them," he teases, his voice a little lighter now, a spark of his usual playful demeanor coming back. "should we count this one, or start fresh?"

you laugh, the sound bringing color back into the space between you. "maybe we should count this one," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full. "but only if it means you have to try extra hard to make the next four unforgettable."

his smile widens, the warmth in his eyes chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. "deal," he says, his hands still resting on your waist. "i’ll make every single one worth remembering, just you wait."

[cerisahh]

summary — love language headcanons for the arcane characters (giving and receiving)

characters included — jinx, ekko, silco, vander, viktor

cerisa speaks — literally started writing this the night of s2 act 3 release and only now finishing it if that doesn't tell you something about how inconsistent i am idk what does. ATTENTION PEOPLE IN MY REQUESTS!! i swear to god i will do your request in the next year for sure! viktor forgive me, amen.

jinx — gift giving. jinx's most loyal companion is her imagination so it isn't hard for her to think of gifts that are personal to you that'd you'd enjoy.

we see many of the little homemade trinkets that she's made for silco throughout the years, my favourite being the ashtray he keeps on the desk in his office. so dependant on what you're into, she'll showcase her love for you in the form of a trinket.

oh, so you like to read? she sees you dog-earing a page of your book whilst you two are in her hangout and drops her current project to fashion you a bookmark. you only notice that her tinkering has stopped when the bookmark has been dropped on your lap and she's made a blasé comment about you destroying your book for too long so she just had to make you this so you'd stop.

hiding behind a mask of indifference when giving out her gifts is kind of her thing, but she's anxious to no end to see if you like it. her mind runs a mile a minute; 'don't they like it? do the colours not match? they hate it they hate it theyhateittheyhateittheyhateme-'

until you're holding it carefully between your fingers and your mouth is making that 'o' shape it does when something unexpected has happened. when you say that it's the most thoughtful gift you've ever received she's insistent on making you a hundred more.

physical touch. stop booing me i'm right! let me explain. as we see before powder becomes jinx, she's quite normal with physical contact, we see vi hugging her, putting a hand on her shoulder, claggor helping her down to the apartment, etc.

it's after vi slaps and abandons her that she becomes uncomfortable with physical touch. silco (most of the time) lets her initiate it on her own terms.

one time he doesn't is where she's playing airplane with his shimmer device and he grabs her wrist. she lets him retain his grip for a moment but when she does move her arm away he doesn't follow her. through my own delusions i've come to the conclusion that jinx wants, maybe even craves physical comfort, but quickly feels smothered by it when it's forced on her.

despite this, with the right person i feel like she would be willing to accept physical affection from them. it would take time to establish and develop a trusting relationship with jinx but when you're there, you're there. she's also a deeply insecure person when it comes to relationships of any kind and retaining them so you'll have to slip in some words of affirmation between touches.

her favourite way to receive physical touch would for sure be you playing with her hair. running your fingers through it and scratching her scalp? congratulations, that's your new job. you mention off the cuff how you'd love to see her hair down? suddenly there's a brush in your hands and an expectant and giddy jinx sitting in front of you.

even though she trusts you, she'll still get startled and tense up if you suffocate her with too much affection. holding your arms out for a hug or patting the seat next to you so she can lean into your arms is a much better way to initiate contact with her.

a little extra headcanon, when she's doing your nails she'll use her own hands to hold your fingers still instead of a wrist rest. she says it keeps them steadier so she doesn't make any mistakes but really she craves that subtle contact.

ekko — acts of service. season two episode seven dictates this as canon i'll be taking no arguments on this day. seeing his huge mural of future vi to show powder after he upsets her really just cements this headcanon. this is a pretty big action so i'll focus on the smaller ones for now.

starting off really strong with him decorating your room for you. close your eyes and imagine him building you a shelf to store your books or keepsakes. not only building it but carving designs into it. ohh you like music? well take a look at those carvings of sheet music! and do you spy some new books in your collection (stolen from a piltover library, naturally)

with so many different types of people living at the tree, at the beginning he was pretty much forced to learn how to cook all different types of meals. it paid off though because no matter where you hail from, he'll be able to prepare you any of your favourite dishes.

the more i type about ekko the more i realise he is the best househusband out of the arcane gang. he can cook, he can clean, he's a provider - he is quite literally the entire package. him being a certified pretty boy also helps because everyone needs a little eye candy in their life.

this one is sickeningly sweet but for relationship milestones, and even just randomly, ekko will fully plan out a date night for the two of you. picnics on the top of buildings that overlook the neon lights of the undercity, just the two of you. it's so intimate.

physical touch. now this i truly will be taking no arguments on. receiving physical affection for ekko is huge. we all saw how fast he hugged benzo in the alternate au!!

with so many people from his early life either dying (benzo, vander, claggor, mylo) or leaving (jinx and vi), ekko hasn't really had anyone to offer him any form of closeness. sure, he has the firelights. it just isn't the same though.

so when you come along with all the tender hugs and fond touches that he's been deprived of for so long he knows he's done for. consider him addicted. even just clapping a hand on his shoulder after a fight, hell, LEANING ON HIM?? that man is YOURS to command for now until the end.

knowing you're just physically there and not going anywhere - not abandoning him - he's content to bask in your presence.

quick kisses and brief glances at each other come in abundance. if you're not at the firelights base then you're on the go. it's these times that make you both appreciate the time you have with each other. ekko plans to take full advantage of the downtime you both have between missions. don't expect to stray a few feet from each other.

silco — acts of service. silco's acts of service are usually communicated through orders that he gives his goons. say you offhandedly mention that some shimmer addicts have set up camp in the alley next to your apartment. when you leave the last drop and go home you notice that those shimmer addicts you briefly complained about? gone. without a trace.

i feel like he prefers to give out acts of service to you as a kind of 'i can provide for you, don't leave' kind of thing. you don't need to ask silco to do something, he'll take the initiative. he wants you to view him as a reliable provider. this sounds very 50s but he's an old fashioned kind of guy so it checks out.

not the kind of guy to do chores at the start i'm afraid. he has people for that. maybe you can convince him to wash the dishes after you cook you, him and jinx a meal. but never and i mean NEVER will you catch this man hoovering or mopping the floor. that is just simply not going to fucking happen. you'd have better luck asking him to quit smoking.

not gonna lie he just lightens the load of whatever jobs you need to do so you can spend more time together. the famed eye of zaun is clingy.

physical touch. actually controversial take no way CHILLS! similarly to jinx, silco wouldn't actively look for physical touch in any given situation. he's obviously traumatised by his former best friend choking him out and drowning him underwater. not to mention completely brutalising his eye.

jinx is likely the only person he would willingly let touch him. not even sevika on a good day gets that privilege. you would need to spend a lot of time gaining silco's undying trust. only when you two are emotionally close will you be able to share his touch.

buying you jewellery just so he can feel the warmth of your body heat as he clasps the necklace around you neck. silco is very subtle and sneaky when he wants to be close to you.

his neck is off limits to everyone, even you. placing your hand on his collarbone whilst entangled in bed together is the furthest you'll get.

vander — physical touch. oh i just know this man gives the best bear hugs. physical intimacy with vander is just safety incarnate. when he takes you into his arms it really feels like a breath of topside air after a lifetime underground.

i don't think vander would really like being with a partner that didn't enjoy physical affection. it's not only a bonding experience for the both of you to engage in but also a display of trust that he deeply values.

conveying his love for you with intimacy, non-sexual and sexual is something he cherishes. the level of mutual understanding and relationship building that comes with it is indispensable to vander. basically the keys to a successful partnership with him.

that little symbol of love in the undercity where two people touch their foreheads together? that's the most significant way you can show that you truly care for someone and it's vander's favourite way to connect with you in moments of peace.

words of affirmation. vander is the type of guy to not necessarily need words of affirmation to feel good about himself but will appreciate it all the same. he tries so hard to be a good example to the kids and in general to the populace of the undercity. he wants this life to be better. he wants to be better.

he's the leader, the protector, all the pressure is on him. affirming his efforts through words goes further than you might think.

it's you and him against the world. the brewing political storm that plagues both the undercity and piltover is little more than a distant thought when you're whispering honeyed words to and fro in the dead of night. for a man with such an imposing presence, telling him that you love and need him makes him weak.

with your words of affirmation, he's more certain of his role in the undercity than he's ever been. you renew the passion he had in youth, he wants the best for you and will do whatever he can to obtain it.

viktor — quality time. viktor is all about sharing the same space as his partner. with him being the co-founder of hextech, it's difficult for him to find time alone to dote on you. which is why you''ll often find yourself in the company of viktor (and oftentimes jayce) in their lab, them working on a new use for hextech, and yourself either studying or simply watching the magic (literally) happen.

when jayce is off being the poster child of hextech or following councillor medarda around like a lost puppy, you and viktor will settle into comfortable silences. usually with the only noise being the tinkering of science equipment or the quick scribbles of pen on paper. there's no pressure to fill the room with unnecessary chattering. just you being with him is enough. your presence is akin to a relaxant to him.

sometimes most of the time you'll need to remind him to take breaks when you've been there for hours on end and he's showing no signs of stopping or slowing down. it's a practised routine at this point; he refuses, you leave it alone for five minutes, during this time he is sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren't looking, waiting for you to ask again.

when you do, he feigns reluctance as you grab his hand to get you both some fresh air and a proper meal. he might actually be part cat now that i'm thinking about it. he just can't help but love spending time with you.

words of affirmation. actions speak louder than words? pft, yeah right. communication is deeply valued by viktor. he's exceptional at deducing someone's intentions behind their words so don't even bother trying to get something by him. it won't work. you try to plan surprise birthday party for him? he's one of the first people to find out about it.

so when you earnestly tell him how special he is to you or how appreciative you are of him, he knows it's 100% what you actually think and BOY does that fluster him more than anything.

he isn't very big on compliments, not that he doesn't value the ones you so willingly give him, but he finds it hard to accept the good and beauty you see in him. there will always be a part of viktor, machine herald or mortal man, that refuses to believe he could be good enough for this type of love. when he retracts inside his mind and lets his doubt drown him, it's you who can pull him out of the water and onto land. telling him that you love him just the way he is will silence his uncertainty.

oh you know what would just about finish him off? making him a lunch box and putting a note in there. it doesn't having to be something poetic, even a simple 'i love you ♡' will be at the forefront of his mind until he gets back home to you.

honestly, if you're someone who expresses their love through words of gratitude or proclamations of admiration then a relationship with viktor will be smooth sailing.

[sysig]

Featured - me, fully certain I will make this craft in This Exact Sequence, with These Exact Pieces, and Do Not Need to label or set things in particular order or prepare or anything:

Me, a fool:

[mameillieureennemie]

HII I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS i have a request if you could do vi!teen x reader!teen having a date tysm😋

hello! and aww, thank you so much! i'm so glad you enjoy my writing. 😊 here's teen!vi x teen!reader having a date, just for you!

-----

teen!vi x teen!reader

dates are tricky but they're also pretty awesome. especially with the right person.

vi put a lot of thought into this date.

she did her research and asked around. she asked sevika, claggor, and heck, even mylo. but all their replies ranged from the very weird to the very inappropriate. well, except claggor's which was the most sensible out of the two.

but at the end of the day, she went to who she trusted the most—vander.

and all he had to say was, "vi, i'm pretty sure they'll love whatever you plan for them. because it's you who's planning it," and if that didn't calm down vi's nerves.

so vi did what felt right.

she took you out to eat, somewhere a little classier than jericho's, before taking you to a show. it was a musical, full of life and colour which was a brilliant contrast against the undercity's dark and grey.

you loved it; vi could tell how you stared up at the stage in wonder. how you hummed along to the songs once you caught the rhythm and swayed to the beat. it was enchanting, watching you enjoy yourself so freely and vi couldn't pay the show any attention when she had you to marvel at.

then you walked around the lanes, shoulders bumping into each other as you talked. at one point, your hands brushed, and vi swallowed her nerves to twine your pinkies together. it sent her over the moon when you quickly turned that pinkie hold into a proper hand hold. vi very nearly jumped for joy, doing all she could to keep her cool.

vi found you both some dessert, an undercity delicacy that brought back childhood memories. they made you laugh, made vi watch you in awe when you threw your head back in a cackle. so beautiful and gorgeous and everything that vi wants.

"a-and then," you struggled to say through your laughter. "remember when claggor said to mylo that—!"

your words were cut off by the sudden press of vi's lips against yours. vi could no longer help herself—she had to kiss you or else she'd die. she needed to feel the warmth of your lips against hers, how slightly chapped they were and how they tasted of sweet dreams.

vi would have feared she made a mistake, if not for the fact you kissed her back almost immediately. arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulling her close and vi was weak, her own arms wrapping tight around your waist.

you didn't stop kissing for a long time.

it was the best date vi had ever had.

and it was that memory that was one of the few things that kept her sane in that prison cell.