#And the reason why will be that I don’t know their friends

[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s go ride.

LN x fem!reader

in which lando keeps getting frustrated and you wanna know why…

hiiiiii here u go! belated love day fic from me to you 💝 love u all, tysm for the love on my last few fics, i’ve had a lot going on lately so i’ve not had very much time to write but when the inspo hits….. shoutout to miss mcrae for dropping lando-coded bangers bc i literally cannot resist. might make a part 2 of all the times they get freaky in a car lmao, lemme know if you want that! likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appreciated so lemme know what u think xoxox

proofed by my own personal goat @lavenderlando 💖

songs to set the vibes: sports car by tate mcrae, bad guy by billie eilish

warnings: 18+!! minors begone! smut, language, fluff, bit of angst bc lando’s in a mood, friends to lovers, p in v, porn without plot but there is a little bit of plot, bitchy lando

4.2k words

you sit in silence, opening spotify and preparing to fiddle with the bluetooth as he slips into the drivers seat beside you. the car door slams shut and he huffs, jawline taut with annoyance. the hood of his car is surrounded, a million and one cameras pointed at you both as he tries to relax into his chair. the engine roars to life and you side eye him.

“when are you gonna learn, hm?” you try and sound playful, teasing, but it comes out laced with a twang of scolding. lando tenses up even further, turning to glare at you.

“god forbid i go outside.” he snaps.

“give over.” you roll your eyes. “poor me, i’m famous! lando, you can’t get angry when you park in the most high profile spot on the fucking planet and your fans want to worship you.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he sighs, white knuckles wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.

“don’t i? this has been happening a lot lately.” your voice softens, ever so slightly. “every time i’m seen with you, you lash out.”

“because i don’t want people harassing you, looking at you like some fucking commodity.” lando snarls, steely eyes locked on the supposed car enthusiasts that are slowly backing away from his parking space.

“lando, we’re friends. this has always been a thing. why is it bothering you so much now?”

you wonder if it bothers him for the same reason it bothers you.

he shuts his eyes, collecting himself for a moment. he puts the car in drive and smoothly pulls out of the space, ignores your question. you scowl at him, at this sudden childishness that has overtaken his easygoing manner in the last few months.

“fine. whatever.” you mutter, slumping defeatedly into your seat. you give up on playing music, leaving him to bask in the silence, something he loathed.

lando had switched from his usual self to this stony, irate version of him that you rarely had the displeasure of seeing, from the second you walked out of the restaurant where you’d had lunch. he was reluctant to pose for photos and sign hats, something he usually revelled in, grateful that people even wanted to see him. the swathes of fans that had gathered had irked him for once, but what really boiled his blood was the photographers that seemed to find him no matter where he chose to spend him time. so much for monaco’s privacy laws.

it wasn’t like he cared about himself, either. it was you. the way they leered, leaned close to you while he was distracted with pens being shoved in his face. it was the way their eyes dipped low, whether you were in a tank top or a baggy hoodie. it was the way they spread the false, painful narrative all over the internet that you and lando were together, which drove hoards of losers into your comment section and your DMs just to call you names.

you were not together. as much as it pained him, you were just friends.

he couldn’t exactly explain his overprotectiveness to you without getting himself into a big, tangled mess. you, being the resilient, cool as a cucumber stoic that you were didn’t care what fourteen year olds on the internet thought about you. you weren’t about to let faceless, jobless trolls ruin the friendship that you’d nurtured for years, through ups and downs, thick and thin, race wins and huge losses. but lando, god, it killed him, tore him up inside every time someone so much as looked at you wrong.

“you really don’t get it.” he says, hushed, like he’s telling a secret. you turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from the glistening view of the marina.

“lando, tell me then. make it make sense because i’ve never seen you behave like this. they love you! least you can do is lose the attitude over some harmless pictures.”

“jesus christ, it’s not the fans! it’s not the ‘harmless pictures’! it’s these fucking creeps that follow us around just to make some money off of my own personal hell. you really don’t get it, because if you did, you’d know that it breaks my fucking heart to see the way people talk about you online, just for being seen with me. it’s my fault that you get harassed, that paps are basically stalking you now.”

he signs of his rant with a sharp inhale, one that seems to suck all of the life out of the car. you melt.

“but lando, it doesn’t bother me. i just wanna be here with you, i don’t care about the rest of it.” you coo softly, reaching over the centre console to grip his forearm.

“and i want you here. i want you with me every fucking second of the day, but i can’t cope. can’t help thinking that one day it’ll all just be too much and you’ll leave me.” he whispers.

“never. never ever ever.” you promise. your belly swirls with emotions, tickled from the inside out by butterflies that threaten to swarm.

lando breathes shakily, warmed through by the hand that rests on his arm as he manoeuvres through the twisty lanes. as he hits traffic and slows, he clocks another photographer looming on the pavement, lens aimed at his windshield. already too annoyed, he aggressively smacks his sun visor down, leaning over the console to reach yours too, pulling it down. he prays it’s enough.

“you need to relax, lan. i’m fine, we’re fine. i promise.” you reassure, but he’s breathing heavily now. “you don’t worry this much when it’s max.” you trail off.

he doesn’t know what comes over him. he spins the car into a sharp u-turn, positively speeding back in the direction you’d just come from. any mention of you and him as a ‘we’ makes him crazy, makes him utterly lose his mind, but something about your sweet, earnest voice bringing him back to reality has left him completely shaken. the sun is setting now, most people clearing out of the underground car park he pulls into to head back to their homes. he has other intentions. you don’t say another word until he pulls into a space at the back of the lot, tucked neatly into a corner.

“what are we doing?”

“need a minute.” lando rasps, forehead resting on his steering wheel, the matte leather pushing his sharp curls back. you trail your eyes over him, the way his chest rises and falls under the sweatshirt he’s wearing, the way his thick fingers curl as his grip continues to tighten.

“i’m jealous. and i’m selfish. and i’m a complete fucking idiot.” lando says, steadily, like he’s reading the news.

“you’re… you’re jealous? of what?” you’re like a deer in headlights.

“of any other person that gets to lay their fucking eyes on you.”

“what are you saying?” you whisper. the air in the car goes still, frozen. you can’t breathe.

“i’m saying… that you’re mine. and i should have made that a known fact a long time ago.” ever so slowly he looks up at you, and you gasp at the intensity of his stare. he’s gazing at you with complete conviction in his eyes, a whole lot of vulnerability mixed in with the sincerity of his words. “i don’t want anyone else anywhere near you. lose my fucking mind watching the way they look at you.”

“lando…” you trail off, eyes as wide as saucers. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

“i know this is terrible of me, to do this now, here - to do this at all, to be honest. i know that i have no right to stake some kind of claim on you, and i know that you probably don’t feel the same, but god, i just needed you to know. if you want me to shut the fuck up or leave you alone forever then i totally get it but-“

“oh my god, are you stupid?” you shake your head, still stuck in your state of disbelief, but you muster the coherency to grip the collar of his crewneck, tug him close.

your lips meet hastily, urgently, and every ounce to tension seems to seep out of the car. he moans at the very sensation of you against him, breath caught in his throat when you lace your finger through his hair like you want to mould your faces together, never stop. his brain finally catches up, awestruck as he is, and you trade passion and saliva, bumping noses as you clash chaotically.

“i think we’re both stupid.” he mumbles into your lips. you shut him up with another kiss, fiery and needy, and his hands begin to wander. he smoothes over the back of your jumper until he finds your waist, awkward in the limited space of the front of the car, and skims his hands up until he’s made his way beneath the material and he’s gripping your bare skin.

“too forward of me to ask you to get in the back?” lando pants with a cheeky smile.

“you literally just marked your territory on me, and nearly bit a photographer. i think we’re past ‘forward’.” you deadpan.

“then get in the fucking back.” he grins, devilish and commanding. you do as you’re told, wriggling between the leather until you’re propped up against the backseat. lando follows, sitting beside you, tugs you into his lap like you’re weightless.

you can feel him beneath you, hard and wanting, and you mewl, keen into him. your breaths mingle in the nonexistent space, lips brushing gently.

“this okay?” lando’s lips ghost over yours and you lean forward, just enough to reach him. he pulls back, eyes hooded, teasing, and tuts. “use your words.”

“who knew you were such a bossy boots.” you smirk. “more than okay.”

his eyes glaze over once he has your permission, and he kisses you like you’re the last supply of oxygen on earth. he licks into your mouth, wet and desperate and you whimper as he grazes over the crease of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up.

“can feel you.” lando groans, pulling away to look between your bodies. “so warm for me, you like seeing me all riled up?”

you nod coyly, lip caught between your teeth, and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter.

“what did i say about words?” lando composes himself enough to tease. you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way heat rolls through your body.

“like when you get all bitchy.” you reply, rolling your hips once.

“bitchy?”

“mhm. always been so easy to toy with.” you whisper, leaning in to nose along the thickness of his neck. you drag your tongue up the vein there, feeling it pulse under your tongue. he smells like his cologne, so him, and it makes you even hotter.

“oh, so you’ve been playing with me?” he chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head at the marks you’re leaving.

“maybe a little.” you hum.

“you liked watching me get angry? pretending to be all sweet and clueless?” lando whispers, the words hanging heavy in the space between you. all you can manage in response is a mischievous smile that twists his tummy.

your hands trail under his sweatshirt, skating over the muscled ripples of his belly, ever so slightly dipping into the band of his sweats. his head lulls back, blindly holding you close while you worship him. he lets you, lets himself have this moment, thinking for so long that it would never come.

“waited so long,” your lips brush over the shell of his ear, tongue grazing the lobe. he descends into a mess of shivers. “needed you to break first. i knew you would.” you croon.

“you’ve been loving this, haven’t you?” lando starts, low and calculating. “bet you’ve been getting off on dressing like a whore for the cameras, watching me suffer.” he pieces together. your resolve cracks. “bad girl.”

the sense of control you’d briefly maintained shatters, a hand around your neck forcing you away from him, preventing your sweet torture. his fingers flex, just above your collarbone, and you swallow at the smirk that seems to engulf his entire face. he looks animalistic, crazed with a feral adoration that leaves you certain that you’re dripping all over his lap.

“i think you’ve had your fun, baby, it’s my turn.”

you whine when he drags you across his lap, back and forth until you’re squirming. his hips rut up into yours, fuelling your desire for every single inch of him.

“please, lando.” you breathe, reaching out to lace your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“let me look at you.” he demands, shutting down your intentions for more. “i’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?”

“so have i.” you beg him with your eyes, but give in to him nonetheless. you’re staining his lap, grey sweats darkening as your wetness pools there and he can’t help but buck up into your warmth.

“wanna play with you, baby, see how you like it.” he taunts, bringing two fingers between your legs.

he brushes his knuckles over the obvious damp patch at the crotch of your panties, lip caught between his teeth at what he finds. your soaked through, and he pinches your bundle of nerves just to watch you thrash in his grip.

“i hate you right now.” you spit through gritted teeth, but your hips can’t help but chase his hand.

“doesn’t feel like it.” he kisses you quick, loving the way you lean in for more, but he relaxes against the seat and dips slowly beneath your underwear. “fuck.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to spread your wetness around, you’re already lathered in it, but he continues to tease, fingers gliding over your clit and through your folds.

“please.” you beg, leaning back to give him as much access as possible.

“what do you want, baby? tell me.” he urges, drawing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.

“your fingers.”

“you have them.” he barks out a condescending laugh, applying more pressure just to prove his point.

“need them inside of me.” you pant, eyes squeezing shut at his sadistic game between your thighs.

“that’s my girl.” he praises, and you curse, clamping down around him before he even gets the first knuckle inside of you.

“how are you doing this to me?” you think aloud, tears in your waterline already. it all feels far too good for a first time.

“because i know you better than you think i do.” he coos.

lando pulls you flush against him, grinding his fingers deep so that they curl deliciously against your sweet spot. his palm bumps your clit with every twist of digits and he nips over your collarbone. his tongue laves over your skin, tasting the perspiration that gathers as the car steams up around you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, huddled together in the back of his urus in a dimly lit car park. thank god you’d lost the photographers.

“can’t believe we’re doing this.” you gasp, feeling your tummy tighten at the thrill of it all, of feeling your best friend work to please you.

“i knew it would happen. knew that someday i’d get to see you like this, all for me.”

“all for you.” you repeat, drunk on him as you rode his fingers. “feels so good.”

“want you to come for me like this.” lando orders, replacing the heel of his hand with his thumb against your clit. his ministrations are more controlled like this, precise, and you throw your head back in pleasure. his teeth sink in to the base of your neck, sucking softly over the bruising skin, lapping at the mark to soothe it.

“i’m so close, lan.”* you choke, riding his fingers as you near your release.

“c’mon baby, make a mess for me.” he urges, eyes locked intensely on yours. you’re enticed by the sea green storm that swirls in his irises, shrinking as his pupils blow with lust. you can’t help it, can’t delay the inevitable, and you thrash in his arms, wildly bucking your hips against his as you fall apart.

you gush all over his lap, further ruining his sweatpants but he doesn’t bat an eyelid, working you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s transfixed by the way your thighs glisten, by the way your release seeps through the material covering his crotch and it makes him throb.

“that’s it baby.” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. you pant, collapsing forwards onto him.

“thank you.” you whisper into his neck, and he laughs softly.

“don’t thank me, silly girl.” he coos into your ear. you pull back just enough to kiss him, taking it slow, giving you a moment to come down from your devastatingly intense high. you’re exhausted, eyes fluttering shut from the exertion, and he tucks sweaty strands of your hair behind your ears. his fingers graze your warmed cheeks, noses bumping and you take him in, carefully studying the lines of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the flutter of his eyelashes against those ridiculously high cheekbones.

“you’re so pretty.” your voice floats over him like a delicate caress, makes him shiver. he grins at you, enamoured.

“didn’t think our first time would be in the back of my car but i don’t think i can’t wait to get you home.”

“you’ve thought about this?” you ask, bashful. he gazes up at you sheepishly.

“every night before bed.” he jokes, and you shift your hips.

you’re overstimulated, but it does the trick, the playful haze shattering, replaced by thick, charged tension.

“you gonna make that fantasy a reality?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.” he mumbles.

his hands skim your waist, pushing your jumper up as he goes higher and higher, until it’s off, chucked into the footwell. you tear at his sweatshirt until it joins your discarded clothing and explore the bronzed planes of his chest, extra sun-kissed by the trip you’d taken to dubai just a few weeks before. if only you’d known then…

“hurry.” you plead, and he scoffs, adjusting you on his lap just enough to free himself from his sweatpants and boxers, and you gawk down at what’s revealed to you.

it’s big, thick, and you sigh in relief that he’d so thoroughly stretched you out, got you nice and slick for him already.

“gonna take it all for me?” lando taunts, catching your hanging jaw between two firm fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“gonna try.” you reason, breathing shakily as you rise up on your knees. you feel the head of his cock prodding your clit, the sodden tip running along your folds until it catches on your entrance. you both hiss as the contact, his hands steadying your hips.

“you can do it, baby.” lando promises, helps you begin your descent.

“oh my god.” you gasp, sinking down slowly. “dunno if i can take it, lan, you’re so- so…” you trail off, head thrown back far enough that you miss the way he’s smirking up at you.

“c’mon baby, being such a good girl for me, i know you can take it. just a little more.” he goads, pressing each button of your apparent praise kink, and you whine, soft moans tumbling from your lips. a sense of determination becomes you, and you’re aching to take him all the way.

you cry out his name when you’re pressed flush against him, and he soothes circles into your hips, holding you close against his chest. one hand smoothes through your hair, the lace of your bra scratching against his chest as you breathe rapidly.

“well done, baby, knew you could do it.” lando praises, trailing kisses over your face. you quiver in his hold, hips wiggling ever so slightly, and he takes that as a sign. “want me to do the work, hmm? make you feel so good?”

you nod lazily, looking up at him from where your face is smushed against his shoulder, and he lets you break his rule of “words”, softened by how beautiful you look, vulnerable in his strong arms. he starts to move, fucking up into you slowly, feeling you out. you can feel him twitch inside of you, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you, tight and warm, enveloped all around him. you roll your hips languidly, meeting his thrusts and you both moan out as the explosion of sensations unfolds between you.

“harder, lando. can take it.” you mumble, glazed over doe eyes looking into his. he tenses up, shaken to the very core by the emotional tether between you, feeling the way it grows even stronger. the one woman he’d wanted since he’d laid eyes on you, the one women he never thought he could have; his heart pounds violently in his chest.

he readjusts your hips, pushing you back so that you’re upright once more, eyes raking hungrily over your flushed body. your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged to the side, cups of your bra barely covering anything anymore. he tweaks a nipple through the lace, paws at your tits until you’re fluttering around him. the cups of your bra are tugged down, resting below your breasts and he swallows hard.

“fuck me, you’re so beautiful.” lando rasps, leaning you back further to perfect the angle.

once he’s satisfied, he bounces you against him, meeting your hips with harsh thrusts, his pace unrelenting. he can see the way you pool around his base, dampening the thatching of hair that decorates his pelvic bone. you seem to chase the friction there, rutting your clit against him. sweet puffs of breath fill his ears, melodic combined with a symphony of your needy whines, continuously intensifying as he fucks you deeper and deeper.

“it’s so good.” you slur, mouth hanging open, totally unhinged from the raw pleasure that he courses through your veins.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby.” he wants to say more, but then he sees it, the way your lower belly seems to protrude with every roll of his hips. “oh, fuck.” he cries out.

“do you see that, baby? see how deep i am?” lando growls, voice rippling through your connected bodies. you glance down, and the first tears start to fall.

“oh my god.” you repeat, nothing else to say, totally braindead at the sight. your cheeks are wet with tear tracks, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you, so blissful that it hurts.

“you crying for me, baby? do i feel that good?” lando mocks, reinvigorated by the way your tears gather at your collarbone. his hand swipes messily against your throat, swiping them away, but you catch his hand, keeping it there. your eyes lock as your hand squeezes around his, a silent plea. he rocks up into you even harder, hand clamping around you neck slowly, leaving your breathless, liquid heat shooting down your spine. you can’t stop it from hitting you like a ton of bricks, can’t hold back, not when he’s making it hurt so fucking good.

“lando, i can’t- i’m gonna- fuck.” you bellow, falling to pieces around him. he keeps you propped up through your orgasm, plowing into your limp body until you’re so tight around him that he quite literally can’t keep going. he shudders, repeating your name like a godforsaken prayer as his abs flex beneath your shaky hands. you feel him filling you up, shots of warmth painting your insides.

lando lets you collapse into his arms, holding you tight as you both tremble in the silence of the car. condensation rolls down the windows, giving away your frenzied desires. if anyone caught sight of his car, it wouldn’t be hard to do the math.

“gonna let me take you home so we can do that again?” lando laughs, breathing you in. he can feel the way your chest rumbles softly in response, hears your angelic, raspy laugh.

“gimme a sec, don’t think i can move ever again.” you groan, sighing into his chest.

you stay there for a while, basking in it, coming down. he traces shapes into the bare skin of your back; you absentmindedly trace a heart into the window fog.

when you finally manage to redress, it’s dark outside, bright lights casting patterns into the calm midnight of the marina. he holds your hand as he drives up into the heights of monaco, and you stare at the way yours fits so perfectly with his, just like how your head tucked so perfectly into the crook of his neck. you smile out the window and lando smiles at you.

by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re both well and truly exhausted. when you try and wriggle out of his grip, ready to retreat back to the guest room like a wounded animal, lando pouts - pouts! - and holds you even tighter.

“silly girl.” he kisses the words into your hairline, and drifts off to sleep.

-

hehe

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taglist

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed! any tags that don’t work will be removed xo

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taglist cont. in reblogs. smooches

[brenwritesss]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: Azzi’s been one of your best friends since you were a kid. Transferring to UConn was not easy, but having your best friend by your side made it better. That is until you meet a familiar pair of blue eyes that Azzi makes you swear is off-limits.

“Azzi, I can’t do this no more,” you said, pausing to take a long breath out of exhaustion. “Too many boxes.”

Azzi pushed the last box into your new dorm room behind you. Transferring from UMiami to UConn was not what you had in mind a year ago, but after finishing your sophomore year, you knew you needed something different, even if you didn’t want to leave the beautiful Florida beaches behind. When Azzi brought up the idea of you transferring to UConn, at first you didn’t consider it, but waking up every day to a text from your best friend giving you a reason to why you should transfer to her school may have been enough to convince you.

“It’s your fault for packing up this much shit.” She opens up one of the boxes beside you and reaches for an old psychology textbook. “I mean why are you bringing shit like this with you? You’re not even majoring in psychology.”

You take the book away from her, earning a laugh in return. “You never know when you might need it. Besides, this has all of my old notes in it from when I took psychology freshman year…it could be useful.”

Azzi plops onto your new bed, putting her hands behind her head as she lies down. “You call it useful, I call it hoarding.”

Slightly offended at her joke, you take a pillow from the floor and throw it at her. “Watch your mouth, Fudd.”

Azzi catches the pillow with ease and holds it in her lap. “On that note, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you say, smiling at her. You cross your arms over your chest. “At least now I can finally see you ball in person.”

Azzi let out a laugh that proved your point. “Perfect timing now that I’m cleared to play, don’t you think?”

“You calling me your lucky charm or what?” You send a playful wink and Azzi being Azzi, she blushes before rolling her eyes.

“Stop fucking flirting with me.” 

You burst out laughing. “Azzi, babes you need to work on your game,” you say between laughs. “And I’m not talking about ball.”

Azzi could practically get her eyes stuck in the back of her head from the amount of times she was rolling her eyes at you. “You always do this. Enough.”

“It’s not my fault my best friend is so hot,” you continue laughing. “I know I’m not the only one flirting with you.”

“I swear you’re just like Paige,” she says under her breath just enough for you to hear it.

“Paige…like your teammate Paige? From USA basketball camp?”

Azzi meets your eyes and nods. “Yeah, she’s a freak. Always says she’s got ‘top rizz in the world’ or something like that,” she puts her fingers up in air quotations. “She somehow got worse from high school.

“That’ll be crazy to see.” You’ve heard of Paige Bueckers. Who hasn’t? You remember when Azzi first brought her up after competing with her for team USA back in high school. The first time you met Paige was when she flew to Virginia to visit Azzi during her state championship and Katie had you two meet. She definitely made her presence known back then, especially at Azzi’s games, yelling at the refs and constantly bumping into your shoulders.

You remember one night specifically when it was Azzi’s birthday party and when everyone went to sleep, you and Paige went out on a late Taco Bell run because there was no more pizza left. That was the first time you had a real conversation with the blonde girl. And you weren’t oblivious; you noticed when her gaze lasted on you for more than it should’ve. And she always noticed when yours lasted on hers too long. And when you leaned in a little more than you should have; and she mirrored your action.

The last time you saw Paige Bueckers as a friend, you had just received your decision letter from UMiami and had gone to Azzi’s house to open the letter. You remember screaming and jumping with Azzi and her family when you read that you had been accepted. Paige had walked up to you to congratulate you on your admission with a fist bump. The touch was electric and you swore that for five minutes after, you could still feel her knuckles against yours.

Hours later after dinner with the Fudd’s, you walked out of their house to get into your car when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Yo, wait.”

You turn around, seeing Paige in front of you. “What’s up?”

“I’m very happy for you. Miami seems cool.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused as to why she stopped you to say this again when she had said it earlier. “Thanks. Good luck at UConn.”

“Thanks,” she says and pauses, looking as if she was contemplating her next sentence. “Is this the last time I’m seeing you?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. If you ever visit Azzi during breaks, then you’ll probably see me.”

“And if I don’t want to wait until breaks?”

You were taken back. “What?”

“Like when Azzi comes to UConn, which she will, you’ll come visit?”

You shrug again. “Depends on how things go.”

“I’ve actually been wanting to say something to you since that night at Taco Bell.” She looked down at the ground before looking back up at you.

“Okay.”

“Look, what we did…I just want you to know that you kinda been on my mind since.”

You nod slowly. “It’s really hard to take you seriously when you refer to it as ‘that night at Taco Bell.’”

Paige lets out a low laugh. “What would you call it then?”

“Call it what it is. We made out in your car that happened to be parked in the Taco Bell parking lot.”

Paige smiles. “So you’d be down to do it again then?”

“Don’t tell Azzi.”

“Deal.”

“How is Paige?” You ask Azzi, pretending as if you’re just making normal conversation but really, you’re waiting to hear the information you’ve known since you cut things off with Paige.

Azzi shrugged. “Annoying as fuck, ego through the roof, always laughing. So basically the same since you last saw her.”

“Yeah, she’s grown into a bit of a celebrity hasn’t she?”

“Yeah. Have you seen the edits?”

You nod.

“You know what, I should text Paige. Let her know you transferred,” she says, taking out her phone. “I’m sure she’ll be stoked to see you.”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sure she’s busy enough.”

Azzi shook her head. “No she’s not, trust. She asks about you sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I just tell her to text you since she has your number.” Azzi continues to text on her phone, not looking up at you once.

“Like I said, probably busy.”

Azzi puts her phone down after she finishes her text. “One thing I want to talk to you about though.”

“Yeah?” You meet her gaze and bite your lip, waiting to see what she’ll see.

“Paige is a bit different,” she tells you. “I don’t know what happened but after she graduated and came here, she became a bit of a fuckboy. So, if she flirts with you or anything like that, don’t think too much into it because she now flirts with everything with a heartbeat.”

“That’s…interesting,” you comment, knowing the answer as to why she changed. “Out of curiosity, what do you think happened?”

Azzi shrugged. “Don’t tell her I’m telling you this but the Summer before she left for UConn, I think she had a girlfriend or something. She started getting like secretive as fuck and more happy in a way. Then after she left for college, I think they broke up because she was in a slump and started hooking up with girl after girl.”

“Do you know who the girl was?”

Azzi shook her head. “Not at all, but I do know that she broke Paige’s heart. So I automatically hate her by default.”

If only she knew that girl was standing right in front of her.

“Azzi I told you I don’t want to go out tonight,” you argue, trying to walk back to your dorm. 

Azzi’s hand grabs yours and pulls you into step with her. “No, you need to make more friends and I want you to meet the rest of my team.”

“Maybe another time,” you continue to argue. This was the moment you had been dreading when you knew that Azzi would eventually drag you out to see her teammates. More specifically, Paige.

“No, you’re going.”

Azzi opens the door to Ted’s and waits for you to walk in before she does. You immediately scan the bar, looking for the tall blonde and your skin immediately started to crawl when you realized she was nowhere in sight. She should be here, you thought to yourself. This is her place, why isn’t she here?

You tried to convince yourself that you wanted nothing to do with her after you chose to walk away from her, but deep down you knew that was a load of bullshit. You just needed to see her.

“Azzi, over here!” A voice called out from over the loud music in the bar. Both you and Azzi looked over to your left being met with a table full of girls, some of which wearing UConn merchandise. You had recognized some of them from when Azzi would post them on Instagram.

Azzi grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the table. Still there was no sign of Paige.

“This is Y/n,” Azzi said as she introduced you to her teammates. “She just transferred from Miami.”

You take a small step behind Azzi, meeting the eyes of all the tall girls who sat there looking at you. “Hi.” Was all you could say because even though Paige wasn’t there, you could practically feel her presence in the air. And that put you even more on edge.

“Girl boo, why you so nervous?” A girl who you recognized from Azzi’s instagram walked to stand beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. “Azzi been talking shit behind our backs or something?”

“KK, can you not?” Azzi laughs over the loud music and grabs a drink that was sitting on the table. “You’re going to scare her off.”

“How can we scare her off? She’s already friends with you,” KK retaliates and the entire table erupts in laughter.

“KK that’s so mean.” A girl who you learn to be Aubrey, says. 

After a while you begin to let loose, taking the drinks that Azzi keeps offering you, knowing that at any moment she could show up and you wanted to be drunk for it. It wasn’t a surprise that the team took you in as if you were one of their own and Azzi couldn’t be happier that you had acclimated so quickly. 

You felt like you’ve been at Ted’s for days, dancing and drinking so much that you felt as if your entire body could explode within a matter of seconds. You normally weren’t much of the party type, even back in Miami. Sure, you had your fair share of frat and sorority parties but you never stayed for more than a few hours, and it helped that your roommate wasn’t that much into the party scene either. 

“So what are you studying?” KK asks you as she sips on a coke.

It takes a while for her words to register with you as your head is being pulled in a million different directions. “Um,” you start, shaking your head as the music somehow gets louder. “Switched from psychology to business my sophomore year.”

KK’s eyes widened slightly. “Period. That’s a huge switch girl.”

You nod, “Yeah, uh…” You can’t feel your head. You can’t organize your thoughts. It’s all too much. You squint your eyes and make eye contact with her. “If you see Azzi, tell her I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll be right back.”

“O-okay,” KK said with a concerned expression, making you waste no time in heading towards the bar’s exit.

As soon as you feel that air rushing to you, you were finally calming down. You took this moment to ground yourself and lean against the wall of the bar, catching your breath. She’s not coming, no reason to freak out. You grab your phone to check the time, seeing that it was only 11:30 p.m. You shut your eyes, feeling yourself becoming even calmer.

A car door slams about a couple hundred feet away from you and the hair on the back of your neck immediately stands up. 

“I told you I didn’t want to come here tonight. Is it so hard to understand that I just wanted to spend time with you alone?” A high-pitched voice echoes through the air.

“And I told you we could have done that any other day. Just not today.” That sounds familiar.

“Why? What’s so special about today that you have to come to Ted’s?” The girl seemed so pissed you could have sworn she would have left by now.

That familiar voice sounded irritated. “Team’s here and I want to hang with them.”

“You see them everyday.”

“Please baby?”

Just look up and open your eyes.

“Fine but you owe me.”

What sounds like a kiss makes it’s way to your ears, making you almost gag on instinct. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

And that’s when you look up and see the tall blonde you have been dreading to see since you arrived in Connecticut. Everything about her was still so perfect. How was that even possible? Those hands you had held, lips you had kissed, arms you’ve been in. The smiles she would give you. It all came rushing back in that instant. Azzi was right, she looked just fine out here without you. You convinced yourself that you would be better without her, finding someone new and moving on. Only in this moment, you realized that she had moved on with someone else and you were stuck right back in the place you had started.

And when her eyes glance up as she’s about to walk into the bar and locks with yours, it’s enough to make her stop in her tracks and make her arms fall to her sides. It’s enough to make you wonder if she really was just fine. You can’t look away and neither can she. Her body tells you that she’s different. That she doesn’t know you anymore. But her eyes tell you that she’s the same girl from senior year. The same girl from the late night drives and secret makeouts. The same girl who told you to come to UConn with her before you left. 

You wake up with a pounding headache, feeling groggy and uncomfortable as you shifted to get out of bed. You pick up your phone which is filled with missed messages from Azzi.

Where you at?

KK said you went out for air but you never came back. U ok?

Should I be sending out a search party for you?

Paige just got here and said she didn’t see you outside.

Didn’t see you? That bitch. You were all she could see for maybe five whole fucking minutes. You text Azzi back: sorry had a pounding headache so went back to the dorm. Sad I missed her, maybe next time.

You put your phone back down to change into a new outfit, figuring the best way to distract yourself from Paige would be to go to the dining hall and eat. After getting changed, you grab your phone and walk out of your dorm room, locking it behind you. When you turn back around, you’re met with a tall body in front of you from across the hall.

“Y/n.” Paige is standing in front of you, hair messy and sweatpants just a bit lower than her waistline, exposing the band of her boxers. It was clear to you where she was coming from. And just your luck that you would be living across the hall from her fuckbuddy.

You wanted to scream at her. For what? You had no idea. You wanted her to feel how you felt last night. Every piece of it. So you may have said the most stupidest response you could have ever said at that moment. “Do I know you?”

Her head tilted slightly, the smallest flash of hurt in her eyes. She bites her lip before responding, “You can’t be serious.”

“You should pull up your pants, fuckboy isn’t a good look on you.” And all you do is walk away, leaving her there in the hallway because even though you want to talk to her, you have to move on now. And she needed to know that.

We need to talk.

You don’t get to be upset with me.

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb, letting out a long sigh before putting on Azzi’s jersey. Today they were playing Seton Hall at home and Azzi immediately dropped off her jersey at your dorm, saying you needed to ‘represent your team and show your support.’ In other words, she wanted to make you finally wear her jersey after you had refused to wear it since high school.

You meet up with Kayla early at Gampel, making sure to get good seats to be able to see the court up close. Azzi had introduced you to Kayla shortly after meeting her teammates and the two of you clicked instantly. Because even though she was good friends with the team, she understood what it was like being on the sidelines while they focused on basketball. 

“Did Azzi make you wear her jersey?” Kayla asked you, eyeing the huge 35 that was written across your torso.

You laugh, nodding to her as you take a picture of the court on your phone. “Yeah, she’s been trying to get me to wear her jersey since high school. I figured I’d finally let her win that battle.”

Kayla laughs along with you. “She tried to get me to wear it too so I opted for a shirt with her face on it. Same with Paige.”

You hated to admit it but your eyes lit up at the mention of Paige. “Bet Paige loved that.”

“Yeah, she did.” Kayla looks over at you. “You’ve known her for a while right?”

“Paige?” you ask. “Yeah, I met her back in high school when she came to visit Azzi.”

Kayla raised her eyebrows. “So how was she in high school? Huge ego or no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Ego is always huge. But from what I remember, she was cool. We got along well and she was insane when it came to basketball. Still is.”

“Were you guys close?”

You stay silent for a while, trying to choose the right words. Because you two were as close as two girls could be and nobody knew that. But now you were as far apart as you had been before you had even met. “Something like that.”

The lights dimmed and the announcer came on, announcing the team as each player ran out. Azzi comes running out of the locker room, a huge grin plastered across her face. As soon as she makes it onto the court, she flashes you a smile and sends you a thumbs up, which you return. She sits down as the others run through and you wait for Paige to come out. She was the last to run through and you could feel your heart physically leap out of your chest for her. Fucking embarrassing.

Paige high-fives fans through the tunnels and goes to sit down by Azzi, not before meeting your eyes in the crowd, making her stop in her tracks for just a split second before sitting down. Her eyes were taunting, almost daring you to make a move. And by the look in her eyes, she wasn’t going to reject it either. At least that’s what you were thinking.

The game starts with UConn winning the tip-off and Kaitlyn getting possession of the ball. Throughout the quarter, Paige couldn’t stop making eye contact with you and you knew better than anyone that just your presence alone was enough to throw her off her game. She missed shot after shot resulting in a furious Geno yelling more than usual on the sideline. After missing two free throws, Azzi pats Paige on the back, giving her a look that screams ‘get it together.’ You could tell Paige was tense by the way her hands were balled into fists when she didn't have possession of the ball. She constantly tightened the elastic of her ponytail, a habit she had when she got nervous.

By halftime, Paige looked defeated and maybe that was your cue to leave. It was hard to believe that an ex-girlfriend from high school would be enough to throw off the game of the number one women’s college basketball player in the world. But here we are.

You knew Paige was feeling out of her element, watching past UConn games during your free time back in Miami. She was a good player. A good enough player to not be playing in a funk. Was your presence that triggering?

Eventually, Paige was subbed out, an irritated expression across her face as she sat down on the bench with her shoulders slumped. Caroline sat beside her, patting her shoulder gently to aid her in comfort. Paige took a sip of water before using a towel to wipe off the remaining sweat from her face. You go from staring at the back of her head to making eye contact with her as she turns to look at you. You quickly look away, completely embarrassed over the fact that Paige knew you were definitely already looking at her.

You look down at your feet and then back up towards the game when Paige catches your eye again, nudging her head towards the locker room. You shake your head, trying not to make it obvious to Kayla who was too engrossed in the game even to notice the small interaction. Paige’s mouth created a small line as she gave you an urgent look, resulting in you sighing and getting up out of your seat to walk to the locker room. 

You meet her just past the door. “What?”

Paige closes the door to the locker room, leaving only you two inside. She leans against the door and crosses her arms together in front of her chest. “You’re ignoring me.”

You mimic her movement and cross your arms against your chest. “Ignoring what exactly?”

Paige rolls her eyes. “Don’t fucking be like that. You don’t get to be pissed at me. Why the fuck are you upset with me? I haven’t seen you in four years, Y/n.”

Your name came so effortlessly from her mouth like muscle memory. The way her jersey clung to her body, your eyes outlining her biceps up to her eyes. She was magical. You tear your eyes away, not wanting to make it obvious. “I’m not fucking upset with you. I actually haven’t thought about you once since I’ve been here.”

Paige laughs at that. “Not once? Because the way you looked at me outside of Ted’s and outside of your dorm makes it seem like you have a grudge against me or something.”

“I don’t,” you say, avoiding eye contact with her. “What exactly do you want me to say? It’s clear you moved on.”

Paige’s eyes widened, practically popping out her face. “That’s what this is about? Because of that girl you saw me with?” She unravels her arms from each other and points at you. “You fucking broke up with me four years ago. Why the fuck are you upset about me getting with other people?”

“I’m not fucking upset!” you scream as it echoes across the locker room. “I’m trying to leave you in my fucking past and you keep popping up like a goddamn fly.”

“So you thought transferring to the school where I play basketball was a good way to leave me in your past?” she asked you with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Not everything is about you, Paige,” you say. “I transferred here because I needed out of Miami and Azzi came up with the idea. I don’t care who you date.”

“Right because you definitely weren’t pissed to the point where you pretended you didn’t know who I was when you walked out of your dorm a few weeks ago.” 

“Paige.” Your tone becomes lighter. “Up until that night outside Ted’s, I hadn’t seen you since right before I left for Miami. And you look so different to the point where I don’t recognize you.”

Paige rolls her eyes. “It’s called aging.”

You shake your head, giving her an annoyed look. “I’m not talking about your physical look. I’m talking about senior year Paige who went on late-night drives with me.”

“Well, that was the same Paige who got her heart broken by a girl who didn’t even bother trying to make it work. It was clear you weren’t that into me like I was with you.” You could hear the pain in her voice and that made your heart hurt. Even after four years.

“I didn’t break your heart. I’ve heard the stories about what you’ve been up to since we broke up and it seems like you’re doing just fine.”

Paige shifts her body so that she’s standing in front of you again, practically forcing eye contact. Her having a towering height over you didn’t help either. “And what have you heard?”

You meet her eyes and shrug. “Apparently you get around a lot.”

She shoots you a disgusted look. “And you haven’t? Azzi’s told me about the girls you’ve dated since you left.”

You roll your eyes once more. “Okay.”

“You seem to be really into blue eyes and blonde hair by the way. I wonder who set that type up for you.” Paige smirked at her remark, resulting in you letting out a loud scoff.

“At least I tried to date the girls I was seeing.” You take a step closer. “Do all the hookups help?”

Paige looks down at you, taking a step closer with her hands behind her back. “To get rid of the thought of you? What do you think?” You can’t think of anything else to say and she knows it. She knows she’s getting you right where she wants you. “Why are you upset that I was with another girl?”

“It’s hard not to feel some type of way,” you say quietly, mumbling so fast to save your own dignity.

Paige leans closer. “Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

You sigh heavily before repeating, “It’s hard not to feel some type of way.”

She leans even closer. “One more time.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You pull away from her and she lets out a laugh.

“So after four years, you’re jealous?”

“And you wouldn’t be?”

The look on her face was priceless. Amused yet confused because five minutes ago you were just screaming at her and now you just admitted to your ex-girlfriend that she made you jealous. Paige stepped closer and you had no interest in stepping back. It took everything in you not to step even closer to her. 

“You’re infuriating and I should hate you.”

You tilt your head up to her. “And do you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” In a second, she’s on you. Pulling at your clothes and moving her mouth with yours. You waste no time in responding to her touch, moving your lips against hers while your fingers tangle into her ponytail. You let a hand drift down to the base of her jawline and all those old, high-school feelings came rushing back. In that moment you realized just how much of a hold she had over you, her touch bleeding into yours. 

This kiss made up for four years of mistakes. Four years of missing her and regretting that decision you made. You needed to prove to her that it wasn’t going to happen again. And by the way her tongue fought against yours was as if she believed it too. Your heart beat picked up as you both fell into a steady and rough rhythm. Paige couldn’t decide whether she wanted her hands around your waist or caressing your lower back, moving her hands upward. You could feel Paige craving you as she moved her lips faster, more aggressively. You kept your hands on her jaw to stabilize yourself as you thought you might faint. You could smell the subtle musk mixed with sweat that drifted off of her, the heat coming off her body and pulling you in.

“What the fuck?” Azzi’s voice pulled your lips apart, causing you to instantly take a step away from Paige, whose hands still lingered on your back.

The two of you, swollen lips and sweaty hands, turn to Azzi who looks as if she has seen a ghost, dropping the towel she was holding from pure shock.

Paige wipes her lips, looking from you back to Azzi. “Az, hey.”

Azzi’s eye twitched, insinuating that she was clearly pissed. “Hey?” Azzi takes a step forward. “What the fuck did I just see?”

You turn to fully face Azzi and Paige looks back at you. You step towards Azzi. “Azzi, I swear this isn’t what it looks like.”

“That’s bullshit. I just saw my two best friends making out.” 

You shake your head, “No, no…” you pause. “Well yeah, but we’re not together or anything. It just happened. A one-time thing, I swear.”

Paige’s head snaps toward yours. You fucked up once again. “One-time thing?”

Azzi looks between the two of you. “Y/n, what is she talking about?”

A million thoughts ran through your head, debating if you should tell Azzi that you and Paige had dated. It felt wrong to keep it from her for this long. You sigh, scratching the back of your neck. “Paige and I used to date back in high school.”

“What?” Azzi asked, clearly hurt written over her face.

You walk towards her so that you’re now right in front of her. “That night at your sleepover when Paige was visiting, we left to go to Taco Bell and things happened in the parking lot which turned into us secretly dating for a while.”

Azzi shook her head and looked to Paige, looking for any sense of clarity. “Paige?”

Paige couldn’t look at her, light tears lining her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Azzi’s head drops. “So you both have been lying to me this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to mess up our friendship or mess up yours and Paige’s,” you say, trying to justify your mistake.

Azzi couldn’t even look at you. “This is fucked, Y/n.” She paces the locker room and suddenly pauses, turning towards you. “You’re the girl.”

“What?”

“The girl who broke Paige’s heart.” Azzi looks between the two of you again. “It was you this entire time?”

Paige steps in front of you, waving her hand slowly in front of Azzi to try to calm her down. “Azzi, that was four years ago.”

Azzi laughs. “So the entire time I watched you hurting was because of my best friend?”

You turn to Paige who avoids eye contact with you. You turn back to Azzi. “It was fucking high school, Azzi. We were both going to college. What was I supposed to do?”

Azzi grits her teeth, pointing a finger in your face. “You weren’t supposed to lie to me. Do you think I would have cared if you dated Paige in high school? No. But now I know that for the past four years, the two of you have been lying to me.”

“Azzi, we didn’t want to hurt you.” Paige stepped in for you, trying to diffuse the situation.

“If you really don’t want to hurt me, you won’t see each other anymore,” Azzi says.

You and Paige both widen your eyes. “What?”

“It would make me more comfortable if you guys didn’t hang out alone. At least not for a while.”

You go to object, wanting to work this out with her to reach any other solution. Because keeping you and Paige apart was not going to end well. 

Paige beats you to it. “Anything you want, Azzi.”

Your heart stops and your head snaps to her. How…why? Did she blame you for everything that’s happened? Why would she agree to that so quickly?

The two of them looked at you as they anticipated your answer. You blink a few times, trying to process Paige’s answer. “If that’s what you want then yeah, no problem at all.”

Azzi gives you both a light smile, nodding in agreement. “Okay good. That makes me feel a lot better actually.” Azzi picks up the towel she dropped on the floor, tossing it into a dirty towel bin. She waves Paige over. “Come on, we gotta go.”

Azzi leaves the locker room as Paige turns to you. “Not really sure what to say.”

You roll your eyes. “Really? Because it sounded like you were very sure when you told Azzi you’d do whatever she wanted.”

Paige leans toward your ear, whispering, “Payback’s a bitch isn’t it?”

And just like that, Paige is gone. Again.

[kleptokure]

Silent Affection ⭒˚.⋆ ✴︎˚ ⋆˙⟡

Truthless Recluse x GN!Reader

Contains slight spoilers if you are not past 8-18.

·˖✮ ✮‧˖

You fail to remember the last time the environment around has been so quiet. Getting used to the bustling habitat of each region you traveled to, accompanying Gingerbrave, came as easy.

Now, left without the lively setting, everything feels astray. It feels otherworldly, even. But the worst part of it all is the stranger Pure Vanilla Cookie has morphed into.

Change can be a good thing, and you kept an open mind to those who reverted to different opinions. Yet this? No, this entire situation regarding your dearest is a case you cannot bring yourself to accept.

You never thought you would see Pure Vanilla Cookie's eyes modify themselves into such a dull state. The sparkle that was average to spot in his eyes seemed to fizzle out, but you swear you see the flicker of one when his stare lies onto you.

At the current moment, you stand before him as he sits on the edge of the bed in his gifted headquarters, residing inside of the unnerving tower.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie! You have to snap out of it. Our friends are in danger, we have to rescue them!" You try your earnest to get through to him, but all you receive is his eyes piercing into your own.

All of the warmth that used to trail after Pure Vanilla Cookie seems to have left. Uselessness strikes your dough, and motivation is not given from your emotionless lover. What else is there to do to convince him?

Pacing around the room, you attempt to think of another way to persuade Pure Vanilla Cookie back into his common traits.

You are unaware of why you were to be left at his side, now thinking about it. Shadow Milk Cookie did not afflict you with the same treatment he gave the others. As of right now, you've been permitted to stay beside Truthless Recluse for an unknown reason.

Expressing gratitude for your handling differing from your allies comes as hard. The fact that they can easily crumble from a tearing of the feeble cards they've been transformed into does not come as heartwarming.

Now, you put yourself before the silent cookie. You would hate to guilt trip your partner, you truly would—but it seems to be your last option.

"What if it were me? Would you turn me away, too? Leave me to be stuck as a tarot card?" You give your best to sound disheartened.

Truthless Recluse narrows his eyes at you, the grip he holds around his staff tightening. That counts as a reaction, much to your favor. Though would it do much in the long run?

He fails to see reason in why his heart feels heavy. Oh, but it is not with remorse. The gloomy cookie feels angered. How dare you suggest such an event could ever happen? He refuses to allow you to be turned into a small card, put inside of a bag and shrouded in complete darkness.

Yet he allows the misery to fall upon his other companions. Why must you be a discrepancy? He should've pushed you away long ago, yet he decided to complete the exact opposite.

Truthless Recluse feels ridiculous, causing to add onto his frustrations.

He stands up, towering over you with his absurd height. Pure Vanilla Cookie is one to be feared with his current body language, but you still stand in your place.

"You will not," he asserted, like a king to his pawns. Pure Vanilla's frown appears more prominent. You did not expect your short speech to cause such a reaction, coming off as wordless for a few seconds into your staring contest with him.

Then, you feel upset yourself. His single words, the few ones he's ever spoken to you, are hard to digest. Truthless Recluse can say that, but not hold to that same promise for your comrades?

Your hands clench into fist, standing with your chest puffed before the intimidating cookie.

"I don’t understand you. I never thought I would say this, but you are becoming insufferable!" Part of him feels hurt by that, and again, he falls short in knowing why.

"If you are so resistant to helping, then I will do it myself. You can stay here for as long as you'd like. I’m leaving." With that said and done, you turn on your heel, walking towards the exit of the room that you grow sick of.

But then, your feet prevent you from progressing. In fact, you do not seem to be touching the ground any longer, lifted a few feet above ground. Your hands remain fixed at your side, entirely incapable of moving.

That being said, you are unable to avert your stare towards the obvious culprit. Though there seemed to be no reason to worry, as the said perpetrator of your rigidness whirls you around to face him.

You were about to give him a mouthful, but Truthless Recluse reaches words before you have the chance.

"Stay."

"What?"

"You are not going anywhere."

"Pure Vanilla Cookie, release me," you shout, yet, as anticipated, his lips are shut thin. You become weary of his orders. He declines to hear you out, so why would you give ear to him?

But you soon realize, there is not much of a choice for you here. The look in his eyes signal that, and the fact that the strength difference between the both of you is quite measurable.

With the power of his staff, Truthless Recluse hovers you over his given bed, plopping you down onto the cushioning afterwards.

Quick to straighten yourself up, you look in his direction. There is irritance noticed in your stare, though it is miniscule. It goes difficult to stay mad at him, because at the end of the day, he remains your husband. Even within this form he takes.

Truthless Recluse takes a seat right next to you, your legs pressing together. Despite the harsh tone his talk is spoken with, there's little to no hesitation in his decision to be near you. Perhaps Pure Vanilla Cookie is not as far away as you would believe, judging off of that noticeable trait.

"So you disapprove of helping out our friends, but you also disapprove of me rescuing them?" You question, because you want him to know the absurdity of his own actions. Nothing appears to add up.

"Just say you want me here. That deep down inside, you still love me," you taunt him, more so to get back at him for his pettiness. Guilt tripping and persuasion are clear to have no affect on him. Taunting is not guaranteed to work either, but you can give it a shot.

Unbeknownst to you, your little tease did gain a reaction from the apathetic cookie.

Truthless Recluse dislikes the emotions that you, and you alone, are able to make him feel. Your simple words send him into strange mindsets, ones that he believed he would abandon after becoming a deceiver.

Liars are not known to have such close relationships, so he came prepared to dump his old friends. But you? Ditching you is easier said than done.

Maybe he can come to face the truth he has avoided. The reality is, you are no mere friend. Your title to him is far greater than that, which is why he is reluctant to allow your departure. Back then, he was more proud to call you his lover. Even though now, he would concede it, you are still his beloved. He loves you, and he hates that.

Why must you make his conversion so difficult?

It is as if Pure Vanilla Cookie reset. Again, he keeps as quiet, like prior, to any words you say.

But, you took note of his dramatic response to your attempt to flee. In this case, may it be that your actions cause more feedback than your conversation? There's one way to find out.

Scooting even closer to him, you gaze into his eyes. What a beautiful man he is, even with his drastic transformation.

Lowering your palm, you place it atop his own. You begin to hold his hand, a heartfelt gesture that was common between you pair, but will he return it this time around?

To your shock, and his own, he does. A sweet man can never truly be erased, it seems. That sprouts a smile on your face. But, why end it at holding hands? What else can grow to make him act out?

Tilting your head, you press a kiss to his cheek. He appears as unmoving now, but with how short the distance is, you can see the twitch in his face.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie," you whisper. "I love you."

He is no longer Pure Vanilla Cookie, he mentally asserts. Your love is in vain, as the cookie you once knew is shoved deep down and far removed.

Nevertheless, he accepts your affection all the same. That aspect is the most bothersome for him. He ought to silence you with your foolish declarations, but he falters in doing so.

Gaining his attention yet again, your face shifts to be placed right in front of his own. Truthless Recluse finds his mind to wander to how attractive you are, but he soon cuts those thoughts short for himself. He no longer believes in such facts, he would say.

Though if he deems himself a liar, that might be a lie.

"Truthless Recluse," you spoke in a gentle tone. "I love you."

Oh. That surprises him. He reckoned you would never utter his new label, but you have, which indicates you are directly addressing him, and he's lost on how to process it. All he can comprehend is the warmth radiating in his dough, as if he's back in the oven in which he was baked.

As your prior statement of admiration came with a complimentary kiss, the next remark shall have the same acclamantory.

You angle yourself closer, your lips coming into contact with Truthless Recluse's cold ones, meeting in a delicate kiss. As frigid as he is, you will be glad to share your heat to him.

Just as happy as he is to embrace it. Truthless Recluse finds himself returning your affection, leaning in to push your mouths closer. His eyes closed, he rediscovers how enjoyable affection can be.

His grip on his staff almost slips from how weakly he holds it. Truthless Recluse finds that possessing you in his arms is far more preferable, yet he refrains, as you already pulled away, much to his disappointment.

With a satisfied sigh, you rest your head against his shoulder.

"I don’t think we should keep the others waiting," you spoke amidst the silence. "Perhaps we should go check up on them?" You wonder if your mounds of endearment caused to change his point of view. If not, then luck has long left you.

Witches, now Truthless Recluse is sure he has been tricked yet again. How can he let you get away with your foolery so easily? You are such an infuriating cookie, and he despises that his feeble heart wants more of that. He would tear it out if he could.

Though he comes to terms with it quite quickly. That is just your personality, and well, Shadow Milk Cookie does plenty for his own indulgences. Would it hurt for him to take a cookie in for his own appeasement?

"No," he concedes. You have a dumfounded expression. This cookie proved to be tough to crack, and that tends to be a good factor. But now, it shrivels in appearing as a perk.

"...Huh?"

"You, too, shall reside in this tower. Alongside me." He has got to be joking. Although he carries the title of a liar, even you can tell there is no deception in his tone.

"I'll... I'll give you another kiss if you grant my farewell?" Truthfully, that came to wilt his spirit. In spite of that, his silence as a response shows he has abstained.

Your husband developing a possessive trait catches you off guard. There's a chance those few kisses became disastrous in the end, as you see his eyes linger onto your lips rather than your own stare.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

·˖✮ ✮‧˖

A/N: I wanted to say thank you for the lovely welcoming on my first post! All of the notes are what encourage me to write, so it's heartwarming to see so many haha. About a part two for my first fic, I didn't really think about that. Perhaps I will if I brainstorm hard enough. Thanks for reading! (*´ڡ`●)

[bahablastplz]

Battleground: Minho x Reader

Prompt: "Hii, i was wondering in you could write a one shot of alpha!minho x Alpha!afab. They met through their friend/roommate Jisung who is an omega, and they are enemies and Jisung has to break up their fights, but this one time they end up having sex while fighting for dominance." Content: Smut, angst, omegaverse, enemies to lovers, switch/dom Minho, switch reader, alpha reader/alpha Minho, afab!reader WC: 5000 Note: hi yes I got carried away with this but this was super fun to write. enjoy!

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You should have never trusted Jisung. This is often a motto of yours, actually, seeing as he’s responsible for nine out of every ten instances of trouble you find yourself in. But he has big pleading eyes and he can be so convincing that you throw caution to the wind every time he speaks. 

You needed a new roommate. Your old one bailed on you (thank god, because she was actually the worst). She was filthy and never cleaned up after herself. She left dishes in the sink, piles of trash for you to take care of, and was blatantly rude. You let out a sigh of relief when she told you she was moving and it took all of two days for her to fuck off for no apparent reason. She left your life as violently as she entered it, however, leaving piles and piles of her junk for you to take care of as well as half of the rent once again. 

You wish that you could lie and say that you could afford it by yourself but you simply couldn’t. It was just too far out of your spending limits and so… you needed to find a new place to live. 

When Jisung suggested you come to live in his spare bedroom, it really didn’t seem like that bad of an idea. You knew the omega well enough; he wasn’t the cleanest in the world but he’s a step up from your old roommate for sure. Plus he was one of your closest friends. If anything, you knew you would feel comfortable around him. The only reason you had hesitated at first is because everybody always tells you not to live with your friends. Somehow you doubted this would be an issue with Jisung though. 

It would be fine, right? You’ve heard only good things about his other roommate, Minho. Jisung jokingly refers to him as his platonic soulmate sometimes but you don’t really know anything else about him. You were a little weary about sharing a living space with two omegas and all, being an alpha yourself, but you were no asshole alpha. They would have nothing to worry about. 

Once again, you should have never trusted Han Jisung. 

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“What are you doing? You’re going to scare her away!” You hear through the door of the apartment. You’re a little unsure when you hear muffled shouting and you feel an uneasiness in your stomach that you ignore but you can’t help to continue to listen. “Why are you acting like you don’t want her here?” 

“Because I don’t. We don’t know her!”

“You don’t know her. I know her perfectly well and you should trust my judgment.” You use this as the opportunity to knock on the door which swings open to a wide-eyed Jisung. He looks guilty of something and you’re confused before it hits you all at once. 

The apartment reeks of cinnamon. Every crevice and corner is dripping of the strong smell to the point you can hardly smell Jisung’s vanilla, even if you really focus. That’s when you come to the realization that Jisung’s roommate isn’t an omega… He’s an alpha. One intentionally covering the whole apartment with his smell before he even gets to know you to assert his dominance. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes at the stereotypical alpha behavior and you resist the urge to cover your nose at the smell. Just because Minho is being rude doesn’t mean you need to be rude in return. 

And before you can even say anything to greet him, he’s walking away and slamming his door shut. You give Jisung a look and he’s already looking at you apologetically. 

“I’m sorry,” he winces. “I really am. He’s not usually like this, I swear. I don’t know what’s going on–” 

“Jisung,” you interrupt. “You never told me he was an alpha in the first place!” 

His mouth opens slightly in a small ‘o’ shape. “I didn’t?” 

You sigh at him and take a deep breath. “Just help me with these boxes, okay?” And as if he’s eager to be back on your good side, he helps you without a fuss. 

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It’s two entire days before you even see Minho again. It agitates your own alpha, really, knowing that there’s someone else in your living space you haven’t gotten a proper chance to meet and scope out. But you’ve finally gotten yourself settled into your space and you have to admit it’s nice being so close to Jisung all the time. 

You stumble out of your room after an afternoon nap to find him cooking in the kitchen. It takes you by surprise, honestly, because for someone who has already tried to be so stereotypically alpha, it just seems like a very… omegan activity. You tell yourself it’s not polite to pass judgments on someone you hardly know, especially regarding their secondary gender, so you don’t say a word about it. You do, however, make an attempt to properly introduce yourself.

“Hello,” you say lightly. Minho’s shoulders tense up for a second before they relax. “I’m Y/N.” He doesn’t turn around and he doesn’t say anything. You make a face from behind him, where he can’t see you. What is his deal? You lean against the wall, trying to think of a way to make conversation. If this were anybody else, you wouldn’t bother but… you’re doing this for Jisung, after all. This is supposed to be one of his closest friends aside from you. “How long have you known Jisung for?” you try. 

“Longer than you,” he scoffs. This catches you off guard as you’re not quite sure what to make of the statement. Is he trying to be possessive over the omega or is he just trying to show you that he’s winning whatever competition this is? 

“Oh. How long would that be? I’ve only known him for two years or so, but we’ve grown really close–” Minho finally spins around and you make eye contact for the first time. His harsh gaze is the first thing you really notice about him, his feline eyes sharp as they stare daggers into you. He’s very pretty, you note, and it almost pisses you off even more. How can someone so attractive be such an asshole? 

“You’re not my friend,” he says, pointing a wooden spoon at you threateningly. “This was my space first and you have no right to intrude and try to be buddy-buddy with me. I don’t know you.” His words are blunt, to the point. He turns back around and… god, he’s trying to assert dominance again by shutting you up and ending the conversation here! Better yet, his cinnamon scent spikes and swirls around the room, haunting you. 

You won’t retaliate with your own scent. You’re better than that. But that doesn’t mean you’ll let some alpha think he’s better than you and shut you up without a fight. “Who’s fault is that?” you spit. Minho freezes so you continue. “Who’s fault is it that you don’t know me, hmm? I never asked to be your friend, Minho. But I’m not here to intrude and I’m not here to take over your territory and become the new head-alpha, okay? I’m here because Jisung invited me. I’m here because I need a place to live! Is it really so fucking bad to think that maybe you can be civil with me? Instead you’ve been defensive since the second I walked through that door!” Your anger is spiking and you need to get control of yourself before you explode on him. You turn around and slam your door shut before you can say anymore. 

Once on your bed you fight the urge to punch something. You certainly let yourself get riled up fast. It annoys you that someone you don’t even know has this sort of effect on you. But you close your eyes and will the anger away, telling yourself that maybe, just maybe, it’ll get better. 

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It doesn’t get better. It gets a whole lot worse, actually. Your first movie-night in with Jisung you actually get nauseous with how much he reeks of Minho. 

“Jesus, Sung,” you tell him. “It smells like you rolled around with him right before you came into my room.” 

“Sorry,” he says apologetically. It’s so hard to be mad at him. It really is. “He’s been extra clingy lately for some reason.” 

“For some reason,” you grumble. You know exactly why. “He’s trying to intimidate me to stay away from you, probably.” 

“What? Minho would never do that!” he says. You glare at him and he cowers down immediately. “I don’t know what’s going on with him,” he admits. 

“I’m tired of him making me feel like I’m the crazy one here! Everyone I talk to shoots praises out of their ass for him and meanwhile, I’m public enemy number one. I seriously don’t know what his issue is with me and I’m getting sick and tired of everyone telling me what a great person he is!” you rant rather loudly, ending with a great sigh. 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Jisung asks. You feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Yes, I have,” you tell him. “Multiple times. Each one ends in an argument or one of us storming off. I just can’t figure out what his deal is.” 

“Maybe–” 

“Sung, let’s just watch the movie, okay? I’m starting to get irritated and you’re not the one I’m upset with.” 

He concedes and snuggles in a bit closer to you, pressing play on the laptop. If you discreetly try to cover him in your own ginger scent? That’s between you and the moon goddess. 

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You find yourself in the midst of some sort of war and you’re on the losing side. Lee Minho has made it his life mission to inconvenience or irritate you in any way he can. 

Exhibit A: One morning you find yourself running late for class and you open your door just to trip over a conveniently placed pile of his shoes. Cursing his name in your head, you grab your backpack and run out the front door, just narrowly making it in time for the professor to start talking. Fast forward to the end of class when you pull out your folder just to realize that said folder is nowhere to be seen. Your homework which you spent over an hour on the previous night has vanished, gaining you a zero on the assignment. You’re sure you’re seeing red when you get home and your folder is on the kitchen counter.  

“I don’t know what game you think we’re playing, but sabotaging my grades is going too fucking far, Lee!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says as he sips on a cup of coffee. You fight the urge to throw it in his face. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t try to make me late for class and hide my folder!” you say, waving the folder in his face. He looks irritated but it’s no match for how you feel. 

“Your belongings are not my responsibility,” he says with an eye roll. “Next time maybe don’t misplace your stuff.” You leave because you’re not confident in your ability not to punch him. 

Exhibit B: Poor Jisung has tried to set up an apartment movie night. It’s a good idea, in theory, to try to get some supervised bonding. Jisung even sits right in the middle, anxiously picking at his nails the entire movie. That’s only after Minho accuses you of burning the popcorn and fighting with you over which movie to watch. Jisung ends up picking it. It was going well until he stretched his legs out over Jisung’s lap and into your space. You shove his feet off of you faster than he put them up. The action makes him almost fall off the couch and spill his soda all over himself and Jisung. 

The omega stands up covered in soda and huffs. “I give up!” he cries out in exasperation. 

“It’s her fault for pushing me–” 

“Give it a fucking rest!” you cry out. 

Everybody ends up in their respective rooms that night. 

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 You didn’t want to go to this party. You really didn’t but you figured that you owe Jisung big time for turning his apartment into a warzone. The omega already has social anxiety and doesn’t love parties himself so you promised you would tag along. 

Minho is here too. You tell yourself you won’t interact with him but you keep catching his eyes from across the room. Deep down you hope that maybe the alcohol will mellow him down a bit and make him more tolerable. And maybe you use alcohol as a coping mechanism this one night. You’re stressed and a walking ball of tension every second of each day, not even able to relax in your own apartment. 

You always have an eye on Jisung when you party together. But you indulge in some tipsy flirting for once. This guy is super cute, after all… freckled face, long blond hair that frames his face, and a deep, sensual voice that makes you giggle and fawn over him. You amp up the usual techniques, touching his arm and laughing at all of his jokes. And when he leans in close enough that you feel his breath on your neck you don’t stop him. 

But somebody else does. 

One second you're bracing yourself for a drunken kiss and the next a hand is wrapped tightly around your arm, pulling you away. You smell burnt cinnamon before you even realize what happened and the anger that bubbles in your chest is unlike any you’ve ever felt before. You retaliate just as fast with an overwhelming mix of ginger that smells so strong it burns your nose. Before you can yell you’re being pushed out the door and into the cold of the night. 

“What the fuck was that,” you spit at Minho. You yank your arm out of his grip. 

“We’re leaving,” he tells you. 

“Like hell we are! You don’t get a say of who I spend my time with or when I decide to leave.” 

“I get a say when you’re making idiotic choices,” he answers, voice low. He spins you around until you’re pinned against the wall and his skin burns hot against yours. 

“No, you don’t. You’ve made yourself loud and clear that you don’t give a fuck about me. My bad choices are mine to make, Minho, not yours.” 

“You’re not thinking straight,” he tells you once he finally lets go. He looks like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “Felix… he’s… I know him from my dance studio, okay? Just.. trust me and don’t go home with him. You can’t kiss him. Not Felix.”

“From your dance studio? Wow, ladies and gentlemen! Lee Minho has revealed exactly one thing about himself! He’s a dancer!” you say with mock surprise. You stumble a bit and Minho steadies you by your waist. It only serves to piss you off even more. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” he asks. It’s probably the softest you’ve ever heard his voice yet. 

“No. I think I’m going to go kiss Felix and you can go fuck off,” you protest. You cross your arms and you look away from him because his cheeks are also flushed from drinking and he worries his lips between his teeth so you can’t stand to see it. 

He takes a deep breath. “Y/N, I swear to god you’re going to walk home with me or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and bring you home myself.”

Before you snap back at him about how ridiculous he’s being, the door opens and Jisung steps out. “Guys?” he questions, looking back and forth between the two of you. You’re breathing heavily and your fists are clenched but your anger dissipates the second you see the disappointed look on Jisung’s face. He wanted you here to keep him company. To soothe his social anxiety and to prove that you could be there for him, to show up for him like old time’s sake. And just like that, the adrenaline high slowly fades when you realize you’ve let him down. Anger turns to sorrow and guilt and god, no you won’t let Minho see you cry but you bury your face into Jisung’s neck. You whisper an apology and tell him you want to go home. 

You can’t help but feel like Minho has won this round, in some roundabout twisted way. 

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You avoid leaving your room for the next day. You don’t really feel like you’re deserving of wallowing in your own sorrow, especially since the one who is impacted here is Jisung, not you. You’ve let him down. You don’t get to mope. So… what you’re doing is avoiding. Avoiding Minho and therefore avoiding any more conflict. 

It’s the next day you leave your room. You notice the scent of vanilla a little more sweet than normal and when you knock on Jisung’s door you notice he’s nesting. A mixture of your clothes and Minho’s are piled in his bed and you feel a pang of guilt in your chest. 

“You okay?” you ask. If Jisung is in preheat and you’ve avoided him for the past 24 hours, he’s probably feeling pretty antsy. He does let out a breath of relief when he sees you though and brings you in for a hug. 

But of course your timing is unfortunate because Minho unlocks the front door at that very moment. When he sees you in Jisung’s arms he growls, causing you and the omega to stiffen. Minho crosses the room in seconds and the smell of cinnamon behind you gets stronger. 

“Off,” he says low into your ear. You have half the mind to snap at him but Jisung’s vanilla scent burns. You back off, giving Jisung a small nod before disappearing to your room. The last thing you want to do is distress Jisung further just before he starts his heat. This needs to stop. It needs to end. 

Jisung leaves the next day to spend his heat in a hotel. Despite the apartment being more comfortable for him, the unit isn’t equipped to deal with the overwhelming scent of heats and ruts. You couldn’t afford a scent complaint fee. Jisung doesn’t complain as you help him pack his bags and you even help him into the hotel room. You offer your best support in helping him rebuild his nest though you don’t have the same omegan instincts as he does. 

“I’m sorry again,” you tell him before you leave. “For everything. With Minho. It’s… we’ll work it out. Okay? Love you Sung.” 

He gives you a sad smile. His heat should start by the morning, you would guess. You just hope he can be comfortable and not worry too much about you and Minho. 

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Minho is standing anxiously by the door when you get home. You half expect him to crowd you against the wall but he doesn’t, eyes glued to the floor instead. 

“You smell like him,” he tells you. 

“Yes Minho,” you reply sarcastically. “It’s like I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time. Jisung is my friend too. You don’t have to act all possessive of him all the time.” 

He hums. You feel your blood boil again. How does he get you so worked up to the point of your heart pumping a mile a minute every time you see him? 

“Minho. Be honest,” you start. He finally looks up at you. You can’t read his face. Your alpha goes back and forth between wanting to pounce on him and run away in fear. You need to do what you think is right. “Do you want me to move out?” 

You aren’t expecting his reaction. You expect him to laugh in your face. You expect him to be overjoyed. But instead he seems shocked. 

“What?” 

“What do you mean what? Don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted from the very beginning. You win, okay? I concede. You want your space? You want to be the only alpha again? This is it. This is your opportunity. I’m offering you a way out now. No more fighting. No more upsetting Jisung. If you want me gone, just say the word. Please. I’ll leave.” 

“Don’t.” 

“What?” You almost think you’ve misheard him but he takes a step closer and he looks at you with pleading eyes. “What is your gameplan then? Why make me miserable since the second I move in? Argue with me, tell me who I can and can’t kiss, for god’s sake make me fail a fucking assignment? If you don’t want me fucking gone, Minho, what the fuck do you want–” 

You’re cut off by his lips clashing against yours so hard your head would have hit your head against the wall if not for Minho’s hands holding you as if you’re something precious. Your teeth clank together but you’re breathing him in and reciprocating his affection just as violently as he gives it. When his tongue enters your mouth and you taste cinnamon you realize you’ve never hated the smell, never hated him… He kisses into you like he needs you to breathe, like he’s been in the desert and you’re his oasis. 

You’re not sure that a kiss has ever felt like this before. You think for a moment that you might not be able to kiss anyone again after this, everyone and everything lacklustre compared to Minho. Minho. Minho. Nobody has ever and will ever make you feel this burning, boiling… hatred? lust? desire? Whatever it is you feel, you’re not sure it could be replicated. 

When you wrap your leg around his waist he grabs under your knee, hoisting you against the wall. His mouth is all over you and he explores every inch of your mouth, your neck, your collarbone. Your hands take purchase on his shoulders, in his hair, you’re not sure but you want to feel every inch of him there is to explore. Cinnamon has never smelled so sweet.

Minho brings you into his bedroom and it’s the first time you’ve stepped foot into his space but you don’t take the time to look around. In fact, the only thing you notice is that his comforter is soft, soft against your back as he throws you onto his bed. Your clothes are all but shredded from your body and if you had claws you would have used them to get every inch of useless fabric off of Lee Minho’s body. It makes you angry that he’s still clothed, so angry that you forgo pleasure in replacement of ripping the clothes off of him harshly. He grins. He has that smug fucking grin on his face you want to wipe off and you kiss his stupid lips again. This time when you kiss you’re both completely naked and every part of your body that touches his is scalding. 

When you sit on his lap your bare pussy slides along his cock and you both groan. His hands are on your hips and in desperation you both move back and forth. Every time his cock catches on your entrance you both let out a hitched breath but neither of you can stop. 

“Fuck. I’m gonna knot you, you know that? I’m gonna fuck you so full and then knot you so that everybody knows you’re mine,” he pants as he ruts his cock against you desperately. Is this just another way for him to stake his claim over you? To show that he’s the true alpha? Oh hell no.

“You’re such an asshole,” you tell him with a hiss when he finally slides into you. He’s big. You already knew this from the (not so) dry humping just moments ago but it still pisses you off when he stretches you nice and full. “Stupid asshole alpha with a stupid big cock.” 

When he looks up at you it’s with adoration and it throws you off. His eyes gleam and his teeth are caught against his bottom lip in a sultry grin. He plants his feet against his bed and thrusts up into you hard and fast–you almost fall because you have no time to plant your hands anywhere for balance. But the almighty perfect Minho catches you before you fall because of course he does. His hands on your waist only hold you in place to give him the opportunity to fuck up into you with more force and the wet sounds that come from between your bodies are filthy… but only serves to turn you on even more. 

“You were saying about me being an asshole?” he asks. His voice is breathy and low and you fucking hate how much you love it. 

“If all you wanted was to fuck me this bad you didn’t have to act like such a dick,” you say through tight lips. Okay. You’re trying not to moan, to give him that satisfaction. Who could blame you? “You only made me hate you more.” 

“Fuck,” he says, throwing his head back. “It wasn’t on purpose… didn’t like you at first but all of a sudden it turned to lust and… can’t you feel what you do to me?” He punctuates his point with a harsh thrust and fuck, you vaguely remember him mentioning he was a dancer. Perfect body, perfect hips and thighs made just to fuck you like this. 

“How you treated me wasn’t fair,” you tell him. You need him to know and you’re lowering your hips, trapping your legs under his so he can’t bounce you up and down on his cock anymore. Your hand snakes up to his throat and takes purchase there, watching the way he gulps and his eyes turn heavy at the action. You feel a burning satisfaction at the way his hips buck into you involuntarily when you squeeze slightly. “Say it,” you coo. “I want to hear you admit to me that you know you treated me poorly.” 

You expect a fight from him because, let’s be honest, Minho always puts up a fight with you. But any ounce of opposition leaves his body the second his eyes meet yours. He looks regretful. He looks small. “I treated you poorly,” he tells you. His eyes never leave yours. “I acted like a child because I had feelings for you that were misplaced. I liked you from the beginning and I… fuck, I didn’t know how to deal with that and I pushed you away. I wanted you to hate me.” 

The confession that spills past his lips is the last thing you’re expecting him to say. Your grip on his neck falters and he uses his stupidly impressive core strength to sit up, bringing your lips into a kiss. It isn’t explosive, it isn’t word-changing, but it is sweet and apologetic and very Minho. 

He places you on your back and resumes his pace, bringing your legs up to rest on his shoulders. At this angle he reaches deep inside you and the first time you gasp he resumes his brutal, relentless pace. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna knot you, please let me knot this pretty pussy,” he pleads. The first time he said it it was a demand; this time he asks from his soul, baring it to you and giving you ample time and opportunity to reject it. 

“Yes,” you moan. But if he’s going to claim you as his from the inside out, the least you could do is return the favor. And so you scratch Minho, raking your nails down his back until they’re sure to leave a mark. And when you’re both on the precipice you bite down onto his shoulder hard, just inches away from his scent gland. It’s not a mating bite but it is a mark, a claim. You suck hard into the bite just as he finishes, his knot expanding and catching on your entrance. You don’t release your mouth from his skin until he’s done pulsing inside you but to your surprise, he doesn’t stop moving his hips. Despite his knot locking you in place he grinds his hips into yours in small circles, putting pressure right onto your clit with his pubic bone. It’s too much, the stimulation of your clit, his knot, and the thick head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you causing you to cum around him hard with a cry. 

You feel as if you’ve been electrocuted, little shocks going through your whole body with every wave of your orgasm. You almost wish he was bad in bed, if just to keep your dignity and tell him that he wasn’t all that. But with the gutteral noises he dispelled from your body, lying would just be a farce. 

When you’ve both finally calmed down and his knot finally deflates, you half expect him to kick you out of his room. You’ve built up your walls so high around him that it’s hard to imagine him treating you any other way. You’re anxious for sure, moreso at yourself for allowing yourself to be so hopeful. But Minho rolls over and grabs you, holding you close to his chest. Even when you squirm he doesn’t dare to let you go. 

“I really am sorry,” he tells you. A murmur into your hair. “I don’t want you to move out. I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. My alpha thought… that because we like you that maybe asserting our dominance would make you like us more. I know that’s illogical and just sounds  like an excuse but…” 

“I forgive you,” you tell him. “Well… maybe I don’t forgive you just yet. But I can if you prove to me that you’re done with the macho asshole alpha act. No more being possessive over Jisung. My friend by the way! Still haven’t gotten over that. And no more sabotaging my grades.” You shoot him a glare and he only looks at you sheepishly. Harsh looks turn into soft stares and all of a sudden he’s kissing you again. Your tension has already begun to melt away. You begin to see the charm of the Lee Minho everybody has told you about and you think, maybe… just maybe everything will be okay now. 

“I think we owe Jisung a gift,” Minho whispers into your hair. 

“I think we owe him a hundred gifts,” you wince. 

“He’s not going to believe his fucking mind when he gets back.” You laugh so hard your stomach begins to hurt. You think maybe you like the way Minho looks when he smiles. You think maybe you really like the way cinnamon and ginger smell together. You think maybe you could get used to kissing Minho and that burning, bubbly feeling in your stomach agrees. 

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

[blairxbear]

When they realise they are in love with you.

MHA Class 1A Head cannons

Izuku Midoriya

• He doesn’t realize it at first—it hits him like a train when someone else points it out.

• You’re patching up his wounds after a battle, scolding him like usual, and he just stares at you.

• “They care about me so much… I don’t ever want to lose them.”

• That’s when it clicks—his face turns beet red, and he literally short-circuits trying to process it.

• He starts writing about you in his notebooks, not just as a hero, but as his hero.

• Tries to confess a dozen times but ends up stammering and running away.

Katsuki Bakugo

• He freaking hates it when he realizes he’s in love.

• He notices he gets jealous when you talk to others too casually.

• He starts training even harder because he wants to be stronger for you.

• The moment it fully hits him? You defend him from someone bad-mouthing him, and his chest tightens.

• “Shit… I don’t just like them. I love them.”

• He won’t say it out loud but becomes insanely protective overnight.

• If someone flirts with you, he glares daggers and pulls you closer.

• His confession is awkward but genuine—probably blurts out “I love you, okay?! Now deal with it!”

Shoto Todoroki

• Love isn’t something he understands right away—it’s foreign but comforting.

• He notices he trusts you more than anyone else and actually wants to be around you.

• One day, you brush a strand of hair from his face, and his heart skips a beat.

• “Why does my chest feel warm? Is this…?”

• He spends weeks thinking about what this feeling means.

• His father’s influence made him fear attachment, but with you, he feels safe.

• He realizes he loves you when he catches himself smiling for no reason just because you exist.

• When he confesses, it’s simple but deeply meaningful—“I think I love you. No, I know I do.”

Eijiro Kirishima

• He’s the type to fall fast and hard, but he won’t admit it until it hits him like an explosion.

• You do something small but meaningful, like fixing his hair or remembering his favorite drink, and suddenly, he’s melting.

• His brain just goes: “Oh no. Oh NO. I LOVE THEM.”

• The moment he realizes it, he becomes the most obvious person alive—grinning like an idiot, blushing when you compliment him.

• Denki figures it out first and teases him relentlessly.

• He confesses spontaneously—probably during training or when you’re just hanging out.

• “Hey… I, uh, love you. Like, really love you.”

Denki Kaminari

• He thinks he’s just crushing on you, but one night, you laugh at one of his dumb jokes, and his heart flips.

• “Wait… why do I want to make them laugh forever?”

• He starts noticing the little things—the way your eyes sparkle, the way you say his name.

• Suddenly, every love song reminds him of you.

• He realizes he loves you when you comfort him after a bad day, holding his hand without judgment.

• He panics—freaks out and tells Sero before he even tells you.

• Ends up blurting it out without thinking—probably during a sparring session.

• “Oh, shit—did I just say that out loud? …Well, I meant it.”

Henta Sero

• Realizes it slowly but surely—love creeps up on him like his tape until it’s wrapped around his heart.

• It happens during a casual hangout, maybe when you’re laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

• “Damn, I’d do anything to hear that laugh every day.”

• His friends notice before he does because he starts bringing you up in every conversation.

• “Oh, Y/N likes that movie too!” “Y/N would totally win this game.”

• When he realizes, he’s cool about it but lowkey dying inside.

• He confesses casually but sweetly, probably while sharing a snack.

• “So… I’m kinda in love with you. Thought you should know.”

Fumikage Tokoyami

• He doesn’t see it as love at first—he calls it “a deep admiration”.

• Dark Shadow calls him out first: “Dude, you’re OBSESSED.”

• He realizes he loves you when he misses you more than he should.

• The thought of you being hurt makes his blood run cold—he becomes fiercely protective.

• He confesses in a poetic and dramatic way—probably quotes some gothic literature.

• “My heart, once shrouded in darkness, now finds solace in you.”

• He’s nervous about whether you’ll accept him, but when you do, he’s deeply devoted.

Tenya Iida

• Love is logical to him, so he doesn’t understand why his brain short-circuits around you.

• Realizes it when he starts worrying about you more than necessary.

• “Are they drinking enough water? Did they eat today? Should I check on them?”

• The real moment? You tell him to relax, placing a hand on his arm, and suddenly, his heart is racing.

• He denies it at first—tries to rationalize it.

• But one day, you cheer for him in a match, and it clicks—he wants you by his side forever.

• His confession is formal but flustered—“I have come to the realization that I love you. I hope you will accept my feelings.”

Mashirao Ojiro

• He falls first but doesn’t say anything—he’s the quiet type about his feelings.

• The moment he realizes? Sparring with you, when you pin him down and smirk.

• “Oh, I’m completely in love with them.”

• He acts normal but becomes a little more protective, a little more soft-spoken around you.

• His tail wags when you’re near, and he hates that everyone notices.

• He confesses simply but sincerely—probably under the stars or after training.

• “I love you. I don’t need anything back, I just wanted you to know.”

Mezo Shoji

• Realizes it when he starts looking forward to your voice every day.

• He’s always been reserved, but you make him feel safe.

• The moment he knows? You tell him he’s beautiful, and he nearly chokes on air.

• “They… they actually see me.”

• His confession is quiet but meaningful—probably late at night when you’re alone.

• “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this. I think… no, I know I love you.”

Rikido Sato

• He realizes he’s in love while baking—he catches himself making extra portions just for you, even when you’re not around.

• One day, you sneak into the kitchen to help, and he watches you struggle with frosting a cupcake.

• Instead of laughing, he just smiles fondly and thinks, “I want to do this with them forever.”

• The moment it really clicks is when you try his baking and get so excited, giving him the biggest grin.

• His heart pounds, and suddenly, the sweetest thing in the room isn’t the cake.

• Becomes super flustered around you after that, fumbling with ingredients and spacing out.

• His confession is adorably shy, probably over a homemade dessert.

• “I, uh… I made this for you. And also, I think I love you.”

Koji Koda

• He falls slowly but deeply, and it takes a while for him to understand his feelings.

• He realizes it when he notices the way animals react to you—his rabbits love you, birds always fly near, and even skittish animals trust you.

• One day, you rescue a tiny injured bird, and as he watches you care for it so gently, his heart swells.

• “They’re so kind… I never want to leave their side.”

• The next time you smile at him, his whole face turns red, and he gets so nervous he forgets how to talk.

• Starts getting extra shy around you, but his actions speak louder—always carrying things for you, making sure you’re safe, sitting near you quietly.

• His confession is soft but heartfelt, maybe while watching the sunset with you.

• “I… I think I love you. You make my world so much brighter.”

[sinmartini]

"feels so right but it's just so wrong." // red!clark kent

notes: MDNI 18+ summary: clark kent is usually such a nice guy. what's gotten into him? wc: 1714 warnings: red!clark, face fucking with fingers, implications of oral (m receiving), clark being arrogant, pet names, fem!reader, not proofread.

“You are being so annoying,” Red!Clark told you, rolling his eyes as he tucked himself further into the couch settled in the loft. He had been acting so strange all day, completely unlike the best friend you knew and loved. There was a slight attitude in his tone, irritation radiating off of him, and pelting you with nearly everything that had come out of his mouth. It was almost like you were a human punching bag today; if an unkind thought passed through his head, he was more than willing to say it to you.

“What?” You snapped at him, finally nearing the breaking point. Your eyes pointed up at him, shifting your head in his lap to get a better look at you. It wasn’t uncommon to lay your head on his lap, the rest of your body taking up the other end of the couch. Actually, Clark typically liked it when you two did this together. Even though you were just best friends, there was an intrinsic need for you two to be in touch all the time. Hand holding, platonic cuddling, hugs that lasted a minute too long. Today, though… Today he looked frustrated by the way you were clinging to him, the physical touch he had once loved from you be damned. 

Not only had you just experienced something completely terrible, with Clark swooping in to save you at the last minute yet again, but he was being such a jerk.

“I just never realized how needy and clingy you are. What you did back there was dangerous too. Don’t you have any inkling for self preservation?” Clark’s words were one thing, but his actions were indicative of another as he gently stroked his fingers through your hair. 

Was he wrong? Not really. You were needy and clingy when it came to him, but that’s how it’s always been with the two of you. Hell, he was just as clingy most of the time. That’s what came along with knowing his secret; being one of the only people who actually knew the real Clark Kent. 

“Clark, you know I’d do anything for a story. The Daily Planet isn’t going to promote me if I only write boring headlines. I thought that’s why we work so well together? I can bust a crime ring and you’re always there to swoop in.” You were trying to reason with him now, get to the bottom of what was really going on inside of his head. Ever since this morning, it was like Clark had been stripped from all his inhibitions, most of the qualities that made Clark… Well, Clark, had somehow disappeared.

“Good writers can make a story out of anything,” Clark noted, his fingers still stroking through your hair. “They don’t have to put themselves in constant danger and despair to write a think piece.”

“You don’t think I’m a good writer?” You asked him, trying to lift your head from his thigh, needing to create some space between you and your best friend before he could say something that might kill your spirits all together.

“You could be better,” Clark shrugged, his shoulders lifting and collapsing in one cohesive motion as disinterest flickered across his face. You could tell he was done with the conversation now, dishing out that he didn’t think you were that great at what you do, then ready to move on like you weren’t going to have more questions for him.

It wasn’t often that you cried in front of Clark. On the off chance that you did cry in front of him, it was for good reason, and Clark had never made you cry. Until now. The tears that threatened the corner of your waterline were mortifying, and the more you tried to blink them away, the quicker they began formulating. 

Once more, you tried to move yourself off of his lap, but Clark held you in place. Finally, he looked down at you, his facial expression shifting from disinterest to amusement when he saw the tears spilling down your cheeks. There was no way you could have missed the way his lips curled up, just enough to show he enjoyed the sight of you messy on his lap. And there was absolutely no way to miss the way his eyes shimmered with delight, darkening at the sight of your bottom lip quivering.

“You’re crying? C’mon, it wasn’t that mean,” Clark scoffed as his hand found its way from your hair to your chin, holding your face between his thumb and his forefinger. Vulnerability flooded through you as Clark examined every aspect of your face with such intensity, you wanted to shrink under his gaze.

As you opened your mouth, trying to find the words to let Clark know he had been hurting your feelings all day, it wasn’t just this offhand comment that was contributing to your tears, a small sob released from your chest. The words didn’t come out, only heavier breathing and more tears.

“So fussy,” Clark said, his voice sultry and thick as he gently stroked his pointer finger from your chin to your mouth, placing it between your lips and forcing you to open up. You didn’t know why you were being so compliant with it, but Clark pushed his forefinger and middle finger into your mouth, pressing harshly on the middle of  your tongue and you couldn’t help the moan that stirred. “Let me pacify you.”

Your moans were vibrating off of his fingers as he worked them in and out of your mouth, his gaze fixated on you in a way you had never seen before. It wasn’t just lust that filled it eyes; it was carnal desire, like in this moment he needed you as much as you needed him. At least, that is likely what he wanted you to think.

There was something intrinsically hot about the situation as a whole— you laying there, crying on his lap as he hushed you with his fingers in a way that could be written in an erotica book. Nothing about it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong either, and you could tell Clark felt the same way by the tent growing underneath his jeans, the length of him pressing against the seat of his pants.

Your mouth salivated at the thought of it, creating more lubricant to slide his fingers in and out of your mouth. His eyes traveled to where you were looking, curious as to what had stopped your tears in their tracks and distracted you. A chuckle, deep from his chest sounded, as he realized how desperate you were for it. Part of him had to know, this whole time, that you wanted him in a way that was less than platonic, right?

“Feels so right but it’s just so wrong,” Clark said, reading your mind as he pushed his fingers in deeper. The tip of his finger hit your gag reflex, causing your head to lurch, but he pushed you back down in his lap. The disinterest that flooded his features less than five minutes ago had completely evaporated, now replaced with sheer and utter amusement.

You were so wet, it was uncomfortable. Your core was dripping with desire, soaking into your cotton panties and clinging to you just enough to overwhelm you. With furrowed brows, you tried to talk around Clark’s fingers, and that prior expression of annoyance had returned once more.

“You’re not supposed to be talking, bunny, that’s the point of this. I want you to shut up.” Clark moved his fingers against your tongue once more, pressing and pushing on the insides of your cheeks, carefully grazing the gag reflex every so often in a teasing gesture. He couldn’t help but taunt you, just a bit.

You made a muffled noise, a whine mixed with a moan. Even with his fingers in your mouth, you were still being fussy.

“What?” Clark asked, his tone full of mockery as he offered a sympathetic expression that you knew to be just another one of his taunts. If you weren’t so turned on, you would be trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him, but right now you were too blinded by desire to care— even if that meant Clark was going to mock you the entire time. “You want my cock in your mouth instead? Can’t promise I’ll be nice.”

Your eyes widened and you frantically nodded around his fingers. He didn’t need to see more before he was unbuttoning his pants as you gently lifted your head to allow him to kick them off.

But as soon as Clark’s pants were off, his expression had shifted completely. The mocking expression was now laced with confusion, the evidence of what you were about to get into pressed against the hem of his boxers. 

It was hard for him to look you in the eyes, and you weren’t sure why the sudden shift in demeanor until he asked you, “can you empty out the pockets of my jeans?”

You moved off the couch, picking up his jeans and shuffling through the pockets, feeling silly with the dried tears on your face and Clark’s seeming lack of interest in you now. In the very bottom of his right pocket, there was one ruby earring. You placed it in your palm, showing it to him and that’s when it hit you both.

“Red kryptonite,” Clark said definitively and you thought you could melt right there. His behavior had a reason behind it, yours was driven by pure desire. “I thought it was a ruby earring. I found it at the Talon and was going to turn it into their lost and found.”

“Oh god,” you said, dropping the earring on the floor of the loft. Your feet were moving down the stairs, bolting for the exit before your brain could catch up with you.

Clark stood at the top of the stairs, his half hard dick still swinging in his boxers, “Wait! Let’s talk about this. Please.”

Slowly, with one hand on the door, you turned around to look at him, avoiding looking below the waist. Maybe you two could work things out. In more ways than one.

[kiwriteswords]

oh oh i have a fluff v day request! maybe reader is jacks teacher and they have a class valentine’s day party, when hotch picks him up after school, jack is trying to set them up by planting one of those silly cartoon cards in either of their pockets 🤭

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match [Aaron Hotchner x Teacher!Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 1k|| AN: Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you for this request, lovely! I had so much fun writing it--I never usually write Jack-related fics, but when I do, I wonder why I don't more often because they're so sweet! ||Requests are still open for Ki2k!!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, Valentine’s Day, non-bau!Reader, teacher!reader, Jack's teacher!Reader, Jack Hotchner is present (for those who do not like kid fics, lol), sadly had to use Y/N Y/L/N :P--sorrry!!!

Summary: Jack comes home beaming about his pretty teacher to Hotch everyday, so when Valentine's comes around, he finds the perfect reason to get the two of them together.

Jack's little feet pounded on the pavement as he bounded towards the car where Hotch was waiting, his face lit up with the day's excitements. Throwing open the car door, he barely waited for the buckle to click before he started.

"Dad! Did I tell you what Miss. Y/L/N did today? She showed us how to make volcanoes with baking soda and vinegar! It was awesome!"

Hotch smiled, driving off as he listened. "Sounds like you had fun. Miss. Y/L/N seems very creative."

"She is!" Jack's voice was earnest, eyes wide. "And she's really pretty, too. She wears these nice dresses, and her hair is always perfect."

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping him. "Is that so?"

"Yeah! And she's super smart. She knows everything about science and books and... um, maybe you should ask her about the Civil War? You like that stuff, right?" Jack's attempt at casualness was comically transparent.

"I do," Hotch replied, his interest piqued both by the mention of history and the subtle undertone of matchmaking in his son's voice. "Sounds like you think she'd be good company."

Jack nodded vigorously. "She'd be the best! You always say you want someone smart and kind. And she's the best teacher ever. Everyone thinks so."

As they pulled into their driveway, Hotch ruffled Jack's hair, considering the little seeds his son was planting. "Maybe I'll have to meet Miss. Y/L/N at the next parent-teacher conference."

"Yeah! And maybe you can ask her about her favorite book or something," Jack added, hopeful.

Hotch laughed softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement at his son's not-so-subtle matchmaking. "Maybe I will, buddy."

Jack grinned, satisfied, his mission for the day accomplished.

The next time Jack came bursting into the car after school, his backpack swinging wildly as he clambered into the passenger seat.

"Dad!" He held up a piece of folded paper, waving it excitedly. "Miss. Y/L/N gave you a note!"

Hotch glanced over as he pulled away from the school parking lot, one hand steady on the wheel. "Oh? What’s it about?"

Jack grinned like he was holding the world's greatest secret. "I think she likes you."

Hotch blinked. "What?"

Jack wiggled in his seat, practically vibrating with excitement. "She sent you a note! Teachers don’t just send notes unless it’s important. And I heard my friend Olivia say that when someone writes you a note, it’s because they like you."

Suppressing a laugh, Hotch reached for the paper at a red light, unfolding it with careful fingers. His eyes skimmed over the words--just a standard, typed letter about an upcoming parent-teacher night and some classroom updates.

"Jack," he said, amusement coloring his voice, "this is just a general note. Every parent got one."

Jack frowned, his enthusiasm faltering for the first time. "Oh." He thought for a second, then brightened again. "But maybe she really wanted you to see it!"

Hotch sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "I’m sure Miss. Y/L/N is a wonderful teacher, but she’s just doing her job. It’s not a secret message, buddy."

Jack crossed his arms, unconvinced. "I don’t know…she does walk me to pick-up.” 

"Because she walks all the students to parent pick-up," Hotch countered. 

Jack sat in contemplative silence for a few moments before mumbling, "Still think you’d be a good couple."

Hotch chuckled. "Noted."

The school hallways were quieter than usual, the loud bustle of daytime replaced by a hushed, anticipatory energy as parents trickled in for the evening's parent-teacher conferences. Hotch adjusted his tie as he approached your classroom, Jack's enthusiastic endorsements echoing in his mind.

He paused at the doorway, spotting you as you animatedly discussed a student's progress with a couple before him. Even from a distance, your passion was palpable, your gestures animated and your smile bright. When it was finally his turn, you looked up, recognition and warmth lighting up your features.

"Mr. Hotchner, it's great to finally meet you," you greeted, extending a hand. "Jack speaks so highly of you."

"The feeling is mutual," Hotch replied, taking your hand. "He hasn’t stopped talking about you since school started."

As you both sat down, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You shared insights about Jack's strengths and areas for improvement, your words thoughtful and encouraging. Hotch was struck not only by your understanding of his son but also by your genuine care for all your students.

"I strive to create an environment where they can all feel supported and challenged," you explained, your eyes lighting up with a fervor that resonated deeply with Hotch. It was clear teaching was not just a job for you but a calling.

The conversation shifted from academic achievements to personal interests, and Hotch found himself discussing topics he rarely explored with strangers. Your interest in classical literature and your hobbies sparked a shared enthusiasm. Hotch was pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoyed talking about his own rare escapes.

which he seldom shared due to his demanding job.

As the meeting concluded, Hotch stood up, feeling an unexpected reluctance to end the conversation. "Thank you for everything you’re doing for Jack," he said sincerely. "And not just for him--for all the kids."

"It’s truly my pleasure," you replied with a smile. "They make it easy."

There was a brief pause, a moment of shared understanding, and an unspoken acknowledgment of a connection neither expected.

"If you ever need help with any class activities or if you organize any field trips," Hotch added on impulse, "I’d be happy to contribute."

Your smile widened, pleased and surprised. "I'll definitely take you up on that."

As Hotch walked away, he couldn’t shake the warmth that filled his chest. Jack might have had childlike motives for wanting him to meet you, but Hotch couldn’t deny the genuine interest he felt--a spark ignited, perhaps, by the passion and beauty you exuded, both inside and out.

The door clicked shut behind Hotch, and the familiar sound of home was a welcome relief after the draining hours of a difficult case. As he shrugged off his coat, the sight that greeted him was anything but the quiet he had expected. 

Jack was in the midst of chaos, surrounded by a whirlwind of craft supplies--glue sticks, construction paper, crayons--all spread out like a tornado had swept through their living room.

Jack had just begun staying home for short periods of time by himself--something Hotch didn’t take lightly, but this was not a sight that he ever expected to see. 

"Jack, what's going on?" Hotch aske, his tone a mixture of amusement and concern as he stepped carefully over a stray roll of tape.

"Dad!" Jack looked up, his expression frantic but determined. "I need to make the perfect Valentine's card, but nothing looks right!"

Hotch knelt down, picking up a half-finished card that was more glue than paper. "Isn’t tomorrow just the school Valentine's party? What about the box of cartoon Valentines we bought last week?"

Jack shook his head vigorously, sending his hair into disarray. "Those are for my classmates! This one has to be special--it’s for Miss. Y/L/N. I want it to be perfect because I want her to come over for dinner and have a romance like in the movies. Like the Disney ones!" His eyes shone with the earnestness only a child could muster. "And you have the right hair to be like Prince Charming!"

Hotch couldn’t help but laugh softly, touched by his son's intentions yet aware of the need to tread carefully. "Jack, it’s very sweet that you want to do this for Miss. Y/L/N, but inviting her over for dinner and trying to set up a romance--that’s something she and I would have to talk about. It's not on you to worry about."

"But Dad, I just want you to be happy, and Miss. Y/L/N could make you smile," Jack protested, his lower lip trembling just a bit.

Sitting down beside his son, Hotch put an arm around him, pulling him close. "I know, buddy, and that means a lot to me. It’s okay to make her a card, but we should keep it about thanking her for being a great teacher, okay? As for dinner, how about we invite her over as a thank you from both of us, just to enjoy a meal, not as a date? We can see where things go from there."

Jack seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, a small smile creeping back onto his face. "Can we still make it the best card ever?"

"Absolutely," Hotch agreed, his heart lightening at his son’s quick recovery. "Let’s see what we can create with less glue this time."

Together, they spent the evening crafting a more modest but heartfelt Valentine's card, Hotch guiding Jack’s enthusiastic efforts. As they worked, Hotch couldn’t help but think about your reaction, the warmth of your smile in his mind giving him more hope than he wanted to admit. 

Maybe Jack’s little plan wasn’t so far-fetched after all, just premature. As they set the finished card aside to dry, Hotch found himself looking forward to handing it over, curious and slightly hopeful about where a simple dinner invitation might lead.

Valentine's Day had brought its usual flurry of excitement, and amidst it, Hotch received an email that made him pause. It was from you, thanking him for the generous card and his contributions to the classroom Valentine's Day party. Reading between the lines, Hotch assumed it was also a nod to the dinner invitation Jack had ambitiously included. Buttoning his coat, he headed to the school, curious and admittedly a bit nervous about the meeting.

As he entered the classroom, the scene was vibrant with kids laughing and trading candies and cards. Jack spotted him immediately and with a grin wide enough to split his face, dashed over and grabbed his hand, tugging him through the clusters of giggling children.

"There’s my dad!" Jack announced proudly, pulling Hotch towards you.

You laughed as Jack nearly yanked Hotch off his feet. "Easy there, Jack, don’t break your dad’s arm off!"

Jack paused, gave Hotch a comically exaggerated wink, and said, "I’ll leave the romance to you two--it is Valentine’s Day, after all!"

You chuckled, shaking your head at Jack's antics. "Hotch, you’ve raised quite the little charmer."

Hotch, a bit flushed but smiling, replied, "I’m not sure where he gets that from. I’m currently at a loss for words.

"That’s alright," you said with a gentle smile. "I don’t mind coming up with the words, as long as that dinner is still on the table."

"It definitely is," Hotch assured you, his tone warm and more confident.

From the corner of his eye, Hotch saw Jack giving a not-so-subtle thumbs up before darting off to join his friends, leaving Hotch and you to chat amidst the joyful chaos of the classroom party.

As the children continued their celebrations around you, the two of you discussed logistics for the dinner, the conversation easy and flowing naturally. It was clear that what started as a child’s innocent matchmaking might just turn into something truly special, much to Jack's delight--and perhaps to his credit.

[wendichester]

Hiii could I request a pt 2 to miniskirt?? Honestly anything with teen!dean tbh maybe it ends up being that r knows exactly why dean gave her the jacket, or some sort of awkard/sweet confession and fluffiness? Or an angsty route where dean lashes out and r can't understand why which leads to a fluffy confession? Literally anything, your writing is so so good each and every time 🙂‍↕️

✮⋆˙ miniskirt²,

summary. you’re rocking a miniskirt and dean goes crazy!

pairing. teen!dean winchester x best friend!reader

wordcount. 518

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ read part 1

Dean doesn’t know what the hell is wrong with him.

All day, he’s been a mess—on edge, jittery, snapping at people for no reason. It’s stupid. It’s irrational. And it’s all because of you.

Because you showed up this morning in that damn skirt.

And now you’re sitting next to him in the Impala, legs tucked up on the seat, wearing his jacket like it belongs to you. Like he belongs to you.

And maybe that’s what’s messing him up so bad.

He grips the steering wheel tighter, eyes fixed on the road. His knuckles are white. The engine hums beneath them, the radio low, but the silence between you is loud.

You tap your fingers against the window absentmindedly. “Are you gonna keep brooding all night, or are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

Dean exhales sharply through his nose. “Nothing’s up.”

“Uh-huh.” You shift, turning to face him fully. “Because you’ve been acting weird since lunch, and considering we spend, like, ninety percent of our lives together, I think I’d know when something’s up.”

Dean clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to do this. Not now, not ever. But you’re looking at him, waiting, and there’s something knowing in your eyes.

Like you already have him figured out.

You lean in slightly, voice softer. “Is this about the jacket?”

He stiffens.

“Oh my God.” Your lips part in realization. “It is about the jacket.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It totally is!” You sit up straighter, grinning now. “Dean, did you—”

“Don’t.”

“Did you give me your jacket because you were jealous?”

Dean groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”

You burst out laughing, delighted. “Dean, that’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, glaring at the road like it personally offended him.

“I mean, I thought it was kinda obvious, but I wasn’t sure—”

“What was obvious?”

“That you like me.”

Dean nearly swerves into oncoming traffic.

He yanks the wheel back, heart slamming against his ribs. “What?”

You’re still grinning, completely unfazed. “You like me.”

He swallows. His ears are hot. His pulse is a damn drumline.

He could deny it. Brush it off, make some joke, keep things the way they’ve always been.

But when he looks over at you—wearing his jacket, all warm and soft and entirely too pretty in the glow of the streetlights—he realizes he’s so, so tired of pretending.

“…Yeah,” he mutters, grip tightening on the wheel. “I do.”

Your smile softens. “Good.”

Dean frowns. “Good?”

You shrug, leaning closer, your warmth seeping into his side. “Because I like you, too, dumbass.”

Dean’s stomach does a weird little flip. His chest feels too tight.

He doesn’t know what to say, what to do.

And then you’re leaning in, hand curling around his bicep, looking at him like he hung the damn moon.

“Pull over.”

Dean swallows thickly. “Why?”

Your fingers slide down his arm, tracing his wrist, teasing at his palm.

“Because I wanna kiss you,” you say simply. “And I don’t think you should be driving when I do.”

Dean’s foot is on the brake before you finish the sentence.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @img14 ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @aerinu ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes

[strawberriesoup]

don’t come crying₊˚⊹♡

♡ genre: minho x reader, oneshot, friends to lovers, angst, fluff

♡ warnings: swearing, kissing, heartbreak

♡ wc: 2.7k

♡ a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAYY here’s a quick, bite-sized minho oneshot that i somehow wrote yesterday and today. it’s not proofread in any way so good luck reading (JK I HOPE YOU ENJOYY)

if you make it all the way through, please leave some feedback! i always love to hear other people’s thoughts!! your feedback is what keeps me writing stories like these <33

♡ taglist: @jisunggy @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools @chancloud8 @hannieslittlerockstar @vixensss @skzpvol @gxtwllsn @yinzgarden @kayleefriedchicken @nightmarenyxx @dwesion

if you would like to be added to my series taglist or my general taglist, send me a comment or an ask! <3

―୨♡୧―

Objectively speaking, Minho is an asshole.

Said asshole is currently sprawled over your couch, eating your cookies, and he has the nerve to berate you about who you chose to go out with on Valentine's Day? He’s insufferable.

Your eye twitches as Minho scornfully regards the picture of your date— which you had only sent him after he had nagged you nonstop for ten minutes— pointing out that his hair color didn’t quite suit him, and also that he should probably shave more often.

Having had quite enough, you snatch the phone from his grasp, earning yourself a loud “Hey!” of protest. Shutting the screen off, you toss it on the ground and cross your arms, glaring at his form on the couch next to you. If you were a jerk like Minho, you definitely would have smacked him by now. But, since you’re not, you press your mouth into a straight line and blink widely at him.

“You done?” You ask thinly.

Minho stretches before responding, whole body quivering with the effort.

“No, but I suppose I should shut up now if I want any more of those cookies,” He examines a nail with apparent disintrest.

“Good choice,” It takes everything in you to not wipe that goddamn expression off his face. He just looks so… ugh. You can’t even look at him right now. The sight of his face incites a type of rage in you that should probably be studied. “Why do you care so much anyways, huh? It’s not like your date is any better,” then you gasp, tapping the side of your head in mock remembrance, “Oh, wait, that’s right! You don’t have a date, do you?”

The roll of his eyes and curl of his lip give you your answer before he can even speak.

“That’s what I thought. Now you can shut up and eat the fucking cookie,” You snap, pushing yourself up from the couch. Minho’s voice trails after you as you storm off to your room.

“Just don’t come crying to me when he stands you up tomorrow!”

Your door slams shut before you have to hear another word from his mouth.

This is dumb. He’s a perfectly fine guy! Minho’s just being overdramatic for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Have you been wrong about guys before? Yes. Has Minho been right the majority of the time? Also yes. But that doesn’t mean he’s right this time.

You sigh dreamily just thinking about it. Just last week, he had asked you to be his valentine with a huge bouquet of crimson roses and box of chocolates. Call it childish, but you have been absolutely giddy ever since. The world seems three shades brighter, and you walk with an extra skip in your step. That is, until a certain someone had to go and open his big, opinionated, mouth.

His words circle in your mind, but you shake your head quickly to clear it. Minho’s probably just in a foul mood because you have a date and he doesn’t. Why he’s taking it out on you though is beyond you, but you try not to take it to heart too much.

You have a good feeling about this one. You just know it will go well tomorrow, and you can’t wait to rub your success in Minho’s smug face.

જ⁀➴

You have a bad feeling about this.

Your date-to-be is sitting across from you, leaning back and listening to you talk. You two had decided to touch base at a cafe before tomorrow, just to go over plans. As you are reviewing the meetup time, you swear you can sense a hint of annoyance in the curve of his lip. His knee taps up and down, as if impatient. No, that can’t be right. Minho’s words had just gotten to you, that’s all. Nevertheless, your stomach sinks a bit as your date finishes off his coffee and stands up.

“Yup, sounds good.” He tosses his empty cup in the trash, “I gotta go, but i’ll see you tomorrow,”

Without so much as a wave goodbye, you watch him head out. The door announces his departure with a pleaseant ring.

There you sit, half-finished latte in hand. He didn’t even offer to pay.

You hate to admit it, but Minho might be right. You don’t understand. What did you do wrong? Did you come off as too eager? Minho does always tell you that you’re too clingy, you guess. But it just doesn’t make sense, you had seen your date just the other day and he was all smiles, holding your hand as you walked and wrapping his jacket around your shoulders when you shivered. You must have done something wrong for him to be acting like this, there’s no other explanation. Unless he’s just had a particularly bad day.

You nod as you push out your chair and stand. That might just be it. Still, Minho’s words of warning run rampant in your mind, despite your efforts to push them to the back of your mind.

Everything will be fine, Minho’s just a hater.

જ⁀➴

Just because he’s not here yet doesn’t mean he’s not showing up.

This morning you had put on the cute little dress you had planned with a hum on your lips, a good nights sleep having managed to put some pep back into your step. When you had finished touching up your hair, you were not at all surprised to find Minho spread across your couch, watching a show and eating a bowl of cereal like he owned the place. You’re quite used to it at this point, he doesn’t know how to stay at his own house for the life of him. No words were exchanged, Minho merely glancing in your direction in greeting before returning his attention to the show.

Good. You like him better when that big mouth of his is shut.

You tap a heel nervously, the inside of your cheeks sore and raw from how much you had been chewing on them. How long has it been now? Half an hour? It might even be more, it feels like you have been standing beside this bus stop for ages. Countlesss couples had passed by, fingers intertwined as they tuck their partners hair behind their ear, or stifling giggles as whispered jokes are exchanged.

He’s not coming, is he?

Of course he’s not, you were a fool for thinking he would. Your unanswered text stares up at you, the read receipt sitting gut-droppingly below it. Hot tears prick at your eyes as you hunch your shoulders into yourself. What do you even do now? Just… go home?

Your feet move on their own, carrying you in the direction you came. When you started running, you’re not sure, but the chilly breeze stings your flushed face as you push your way through the busy sidewalk.

You pull out your phone as you run, tapping on Minho’s contact. Your blurred vision makes it nearly impossible to type a sentence. A simple, ‘you were right’ is all it reads.

Sent.

જ⁀➴

Minho had graciously not blessed you with his presence when you stumble through your front door, cheeks stained with tears and nose running. You don’t even know if he read the message, but you’re sure once he does, he’s going to be a smug little shit about it, as per usual.

It’s all you can do to not hurl yourself onto your bed and just sleep for the next three days. Maybe you’ll wake up and this will all be some bad dream.

Your disheveled appearance in the mirror stares back at you dully, assuring you that this is not a dream, and you did indeed just get stood up on Valentine's Day.

The cold of the mirror chills your hand as you lean forward on it, breaking eye contact with yourself. Your mind still can’t comprehend it. Why? Why are you always second best? Every single time you open your stitched up heart up to someone, they rip out the seams and leave you with the pieces. Frustrated tears sear behind your eyes, but you purse your lips and shove them back down. There’s no point in crying.

A single knock. Your front door opens before you can take a breath to answer it. Only one person would be so bold as to enter your place without so much as waiting for a response. The one and only, Lee fucking Minho.

You can hear him shuffling around the front door, most likely kicking off his shoes. There is absolutely no way you are going out to greet him, he’s only here to rub it in your face that he was right the whole time. And while yes, that is in fact true, it’s really the last thing you need to be hearing right now. Your fist unintentionally curls in on itself as you hear his footsteps approaching your door.

You cross from your mirror to your bed, flopping down and burying your face in the pillow. Maybe it will block out his voice when he comes in and starts yapping.

A long moment passes. You don’t hear his movements anymore. Then, softly, three knocks sound against the wood of your door.

You decidedly do not answer. He really can’t take a hint, huh?

Instead of opening the door immediately like usual, Minho waits a moment before knocking again. The knocks are just as soft and careful as before. The switch in mannerisms has your eyebrows furrowed. What’s the matter with him?

“What do you want, Minho.” Your voice is muffled, face still stuffed in the pillow.

This time, your door opens. The soft padding of his footsteps cross your room, but you don’t raise your head. You’re not sure what keeps you hidden. Embarrassment? Anger? Both? Nevertheless, you won’t be showing your face anytime soon.

The edge of your bed dips as he sits on the edge of it, not a word uttered. Yet. You tense as he takes a breath in, preparing your heart and mind for whatever he’s going to spew at you.

And yet, no such thing happens. A hand lightly sets itself on your shoulder, making you jump slightly in surprise. As he draws his hand soothingly across your back, your shoulders drop and you let out a shaky sigh.

When you finally gather the courage to look up at him, you find his gaze fixed on his lap. There, he holds a small handful of assorted wildflowers. You look from Minho, to the flowers, then back to him. Since when were his lashes this… pretty?

“It hurts, you know.”

His voice, nearly a whisper, cuts through the silence. He keeps his eyes locked on the flowers as he fiddles with one of the petals.

“Seeing you give some loser a chance,” he continues, “And you get hurt. Every. Time.” He searches your face, that little wrinkle between his eyebrows visible. “When are you going to decide you’ve had enough?”

You’re trapped in those big brown eyes of his, filled with a mixture of concern and genuine confusion. Despite his efforts to be the biggest nuisance in your life, he cares about you, even if he rarely shows it.

At your lack of response, Minho sighs and drops his hand from your shoulder, bringing it to his little bouquet of flowers. His little bouquet that suspiciously resembles the flowers planted outside of your building, along the sidewalk.

You flip over, facing the ceiling. It’s easier than facing him.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I just… I just want to be loved, y’know? Every single time, I think: ‘this one’s different’,” You let out a rueful laugh, “guess you were right, huh, genius?” You prod him in the side with one finger.

Not even a witty retort falls from Minho’s lips. In favor of an answer, he offers to you the bunch of flowers.

You turn your head, watching as a pink petal flutters from the bouquet and lands gracefully on your sheets. Your eyes never leave his face as you reach out slowly and accept his gift.

A beat of silence falls as you bring the petals to your nose. The quiet is unusual. With Minho, the bickering is practically non-stop, a quick response always on the tip of both of your tongues. But now, only the quiet whistle of his breath fills the room.

“Is this..?” You tilt your head at him as you draw yourself into a seated position.

He blinks a couple times. You wonder if he’s ever asked anyone to be his valentine before.

“It’s- yeah.” He states simply, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Minho’s demeanor is somewhat relaxed, but the way he keeps twisting his ring to the tip of his finger and back gives tell to his nervousness. His lips are pursed a bit at the corners, his little dimples making an appearance.

This is a side of him you rarely see. In fact, he’s never acted this way before. His blunt quips replaced with a type of openness that seems foreign even to himself.

You know what. Fuck it.

Grabbing his chin, you draw close to him. His eyes widen and he freezes in place. You take in his features with a squint. The angle of his brow, the fullness of his lips, that little beauty mark at the end of his nose. Instead of making your stomach twist in annoyance, his face ignites a little flame in your chest. You’ve always known Minho as an attractive man, you’d have to be blind to think otherwise, but you’ve never seen him quite in this light.

This whole time, he’s been trying to protect you. In his own, strange, Minho way.

His throat bobs as he swallows, lips parting. The sight of his bunny teeth peeking from beneath his lip is the final straw. You close the distance, capturing his lips in a swift kiss.

The moment is brief, and you pull away just as quickly as you had leaned in, his chin still grasped between your fingers.

He blinks rapidly for a couple of seconds, a habit of his you’ve picked up.

You break into a smile at his reaction, giddy at finally having the upper hand.

“You know, you could at least— oof!” Halfway through your sentence, you are interrupted by Minho’s grip on your arm as he yanks you towards him.

He catches you as you fall backwards over his lap, his arm supporting your back. You’re at a loss for words, your mouth opening and closing dumbly a couple of times. Minho lets out a huff of laughter and rolls his eyes.

“You’re actually an idiot, hope you realize that,” he observes.

“Just kiss me, you asshole,”

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, you drag him down to you. You can feel him smile against your lips as he tightens his grip around you, one hand drifting through your hair while the other holds you steady.

This. It feels right. More right than any of those other guys had made you feel, despite their fancy gifts and extravagant shows of so-called ‘love’. Maybe the reason none of them had worked out was because deep down, you truly only want one person. And that person is here, holding you between his own two arms, quenching the thirst for him that you didn’t even realize you had until you tried a sip. His lips move in harmony with yours. He’s firm, but not desperate. Gentle, but confident. Your body melts under his every touch, until you can't imagine being anywhere else but here.

He pulls away first, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink that matches the flowers sitting forgotten on the mattress. He quirks an eyebrow wryly at you.

“So much for not coming crying,”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, “Excuse me? I did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“You’re such an ass, Lee Minho.”

જ⁀➴

[essycogany]

Sonic And Amy Are A Unique Couple

This is a quick Sonamy rant /ramble session. With a few added clarifications too. Enjoy!

This couple is more unique than you’d think. It’s cool if anyone disagrees. I'm all for a polite debate and respect your opinion. But if you're willing to hear me out, I'll be willing to explain myself as clearly as possible. Great? Awesome! Let’s get started!

Amy doesn't want to change Sonic. I will scream this until I'm not able to speak any more that Amy loves Sonic for who he is. She always has but it wasn't until IDW that she expressed it out loud. Still one of my favorite moments between them.

Does that make their relationship unique? Not really. What makes their relationship unique is what Amy loves about Sonic is kind of the reason they're not a couple yet. Sonic is an ongoing force that can’t be stopped or changed. Of course, he’ll allow someone to join him on a race, but he still keeps going. Not to say Sonic won’t stop to smell the roses (pun not intended) but he’ll do it on his own time. Amy always likes to take advantage of those moments and best of all, Sonic doesn’t mind. Even during their old chases, he’d slow down for her. Says a lot about the connection they have but there’s more

Their chemistry is…something for lack of a better term. Their back and forth is so interesting to me. Sonic does like Amy back. Notable examples here but to put it shortly, Sonic doesn’t know what he’s doing when it comes to romance. Sometimes he’s not into it and other times he’s chill. Sometimes Amy is ecstatic and other times she's bashful. I'm looking at you Sonic X.

Every time Amy’s occupied, is when Sonic wants her the most. Amy on the other hand wants Sonic to enjoy his freedom. Neither of them stops to think about how maybe they can have it both ways.

I'll also mention romance isn’t about “being tied down.” That paints romance as if it’s some kind of chain being rapt around your neck or being forced to be with the person. That is not romance. It’s keeping someone hostage. Something Amy would not do. Every time she’d joke around about marrying him Sonic didn’t take it seriously. Heroes included.

Sonic’s line in Heros: “Amy, knock it off. There's no time to play!” Dude knows Amy was messing with him. She was written to be girly, childish, adventurous, and cartoony. No, it wasn’t always executed well. Hello, Sonic Freeriders Amy! But I think this scene summons it up the best.

Important thing to mention as well is Sonic is an outspoken and honest character who rarely lies. It’s either you get the truth or you get nothing. He’s not the type to spare people’s feelings either, so if he had a problem with Amy in the past, he’d tell her directly. I do think she'd also stop if he genuinely told her to. The last thing Amy would want is to tarnish their friendship because of her actions. This loyal girl is so sweet.

Not to mention this is a popular trope in Japan too. The trope was what their relationship was based on.

Back to my original point Sonic and Amy aren’t a traditional couple. That’s a good thing. If they became canon their relationship wouldn’t change if they got together, but also they don’t need labels either. Romance isn’t or shouldn’t be a burden on you. That’s not how love works and that’s not what Sonic believes Amy to be. If that’s the case he wouldn’t be friends with her. Whether you ship Sonic with Amy, someone else, or no one, there should be no doubt Sonic values her friendship.

I’ll also add that Amy is just as up for an adventure as Sonic is. It’s why she loves him so much. They’re a power couple and love going out to travel, so there’s no staying in one place for these two.

In Sonic Adventure 2 you can tell Amy’s intuition when it comes to Sonic. Close to the end, she saw him looking a bit down and noticed his mood shifting a bit. “What’s the matter, Sonic?” “Oh, it’s nothing.” She knows him so well. I don't know what connection they run on but it’s inspiring.

These two don’t have a typical girl/boy relationship. I know some people say, “Well, why can't Sonic and Amy stay friends? Not every male and female relationship needs to be romantic.” You're 100% correct. Here are some examples.

The difference between other relationships is that Amy was created to be a Minnie to Sonic’s Mickey. Which is why these two are treated differently compared to others. Including in merch. There are more examples but I digress. The point is this specific pair is always going to have nuance even if they’re only friends. It doesn’t stop until Amy doesn’t love Sonic and even if it shouldn’t define her, it should still be a part of her. She might work without romance, but we already have other amazing female characters for that.

No one’s obligated to ship them because of this of course. Again, your opinion is still valid, and I will always stick to that point.

Last but not least is their friendship (or situationship) as a whole.

The funny thing is their friendship is what makes their romance the most compelling. The appeal to Sonic and Amy’s dynamic is how much platonic energy they have. Romance doesn’t always mean you need to be lovey-dovey. With Sonamy it’s their powerful friendship that makes the (somewhat not platonic) interactions memorable. You don’t have to choose romantic or platonic. It can be both. I wouldn't be a Sonamy fan if I didn't think their relationship was plain. I'm here because of how different they are.

And I love them to bits. Look at this panel and tell me it isn't running with situationship fuel.

Another fun detail is in recent years despite knowing Amy still loves him, Sonic hugs her back. Even the moments in Sonic X he carries her are moments he offers to. Even when it wasn't necessary.

Can’t forget about the recent asking Amy out to a dinner panel in IDW. He's never done that before. There's a familiarity between the two of them however you look at it. I LOVE them for it.

His moments of genuinely being excited to see her are not due to some development but because Sonic’s passion for Amy has noticeably increased. Why am I bringing these up? It’s because one thing that hasn’t been talked about when it comes to romance is actions. Sure, Sonic doesn't fully confess his feelings to her outwardly. But why do you have to be obvious and in people’s face when it comes to loving someone? In Japan, love is mostly shown through what you do more than what you say. That stuff can happen there but it doesn't always have to. The “Sharing an Umbrella, Amy,” line in Frontiers carries a lot more weight when you think about the implications.

Please read this post by @egalitarian-tomboy if you're interested in the implications of Sonamy in Frontiers.

The up-to-interpretation view of whatever they have together is the main reason I and so many people ship them. It’s not the fact that they are close, but the progression of their closeness. To make a long story short, the appeal of Sonamy is the fact that they don’t have to be traditionally romantic to be an interesting couple. Amy represents expressive love and Sonic represents emotional love.

Stay creative! 💜

[nobodyfamousposts]

Scarlet Lady Top 10 Favorite Characters: Number 9

for @zoe-oneesama

Number 10 Here

Now let’s be fair about this. This list is subjective and according to my own personal bias. It’s not about who is deserving or who is “Best Boy/Girl”. These are just the top ones I like and enjoy seeing in the comic. My favorites may not be your favorites and I quite frankly don’t expect them to be anyone else’s favorites in the same order or even on the same list at all. And just because someone is not on my list doesn’t mean I don’t like them or that I don’t find value in them.

This is just a list of the characters I like the most and my reasonings as to why. What makes me like them? What makes them stand out? Because Scarlet Lady has a LOT of really great characters who all deserve a shout out, so these are just ten of them that stuck out to me the most.

And while I am at least attempting to value them here on their own merit in the Scarlet Lady comic as opposed to Canon or its many MANY issues or the differences between the two, it stands to reason that at least SOME mention of Canon is going to be made. That said, I am trying very hard to not rate them based on my feelings from Canon but more on how I feel about them in this comic.

And because naturally I like my dramatic moments, I’m going to do the list in descending order from number 9 to number 1.

So without further ado…

…

…

Number 9: Alya

I love Alya in Scarlet Lady. So much so that I feel bad that she’s not higher on the list, but to be fair, she has some pretty tough competition. And it says something when that’s the case because it feels to me like everyone deserves a spot on this list…it’s just that some deserve it a little bit more.

Alya certainly warrants her spot on this list. She was one of the characters with the fewest changes from her setup in canon and yet ended up with such a major and lasting impact that her canon self can’t match.

But if I have to break down the reasons:

1. Alya is a good friend.

When mention is made of Alya being Marinette’s best friend, SL!Alya is the version that comes to mind for me. And honestly, she’s the image I long had and long wished for Alya of canon.

A friend who is supportive in all the right ways. A friend needing her own level of support. A friend who will disagree with you on points but still be your friend. A friend who can make mistakes and jump to conclusions but you can always forgive because you know she would do the same for you.

In Mr. Pigeon, Alya was willing to throw down with Chloe Bourgeois to defend Marinette’s honor and her hat design. And this was only two episodes after Lady Wifi, where Chloe had abused her power to get Alya suspended over a relatively minor infraction that had literally nothing to do with Chloe except that Chloe chose to be offended by Alya’s incorrect conclusion. Sure, it can arguably be for payback (given how keen Alya was to confront Chloe), but let’s be honest here: after being forced into a position where you are completely helpless at the hands of a bully and even authority figures are not willing or able to step in, most people would hesitate to confront the bully again regardless of whether they know they’re in the right. And Alya arguably didn’t have proof at the time that Marinette’s hat was actually her original creation.

And yet, Alya was going to act anyways. WANTED to act. For friendship. For vengeance. Not quite sure HOW she was intending to take down Chloe in this case, but I imagine it would have landed her in trouble again and she was fully willing to do so on behalf of her friend.

And speaking of her friend, remember Alya in Reflekta? She was excited of the idea of Marinette being a hero and part of me thinks she really pushed the “Marinette is Scarlet Lady” angle because she idolized Scar at the time and very much WANTED her to be Marinette—someone she also adores. Having two of her favorite people be one and the same would have been amazing for her! Sadly (or fortunately depending on your view) that was not the case, but Alya still got to have her moments of seeing her best friend as a hero, and her starry eyes sell it for me. As does Marinette later arranging an interview for her as Marigold—something especially important given in this version, one of the two primary heroes simply has no time for interviews while the other wouldn’t give a blog like Alya’s the time of day regardless of how much Alya did to help promote her.

Plus how in Troublemaker, she got the entire class to come to school dressed in Chat Noir gear to show support for the poor catboy and to help protect Marinette after the way her room and her multitude of pictures of Chat Noir were revealed on live television. Just to try and limit her friend’s embarrassment after her privacy was violated and her crush was outted.

See this? This is the friendship I wanted to see in canon. The ride or die. A counterweight. Supporting each other in reasonable and healthy ways. To be able to say with certainty that when the chips are down, they have each others’ backs. And Alya does.

Then there’s the Love Square—and if the change to the setup didn’t already improve how it went, then Alya’s involvement certainly did.

Part of the reason the Love Square struggled in Canon was because of how forcefully it was pushed with such shoddy foundation, and Alya was the biggest pusher. She forced so many situations out of some misguided attempt to “help” that only ended up creating stress for Marinette, cringe for the writing, and no actual momentum on the progress of the pairing. If you want a metaphor, then let’s describe it like this: If the Love Square is an actual ship and if Alya was a tug boat, she wouldn’t have been helping her ship “set sail” so much as dragging it underwater across the ocean and to its watery demise.

But in Scarlet Lady, Alya is supportive and encouraging—and not in the way where she blows off Marinette’s anxieties or Adrien’s obliviousness and forces them both into a position they’re clearly not ready for only to turn around and be annoyed that it didn’t work out. 

No, she was aware of Marinette’s feelings and interests to the point she recognizes Marinette has a small crush on Adrien even before the girl herself did. She also seemed to be aware of Adrien’s crush on her. So knowing this, she tried to help nudge things along. Note I said “NUDGE”. 

She knows a spark could be there. So when Alya had an opportunity, she helped to set things up in a way that would give Marinette and Adrien time together to explore that. Not to confess. Not to date. Just opportunities to be together, interact, and see what happens.

Heck, it feels at times like she’s more of Adrien’s wingman than Marinette’s. Especially given the whole bit in Stormy Weather, which remains to date one of my favorite strips of the entire series. Alya was the reason Marinette even made it there in the first place. And when she was picked for the modeling spot, she still tried to influence things to let Marinette take over. Similar to canon, yes, but a notably better feel to it. Better humor. Better outcome.

Which is ultimately what a friend should be trying for. For ALL of her friends.

And by the end of the comic, I can say that Alya is a friend to not just Marinette, but also Adrien and Alix and the other classmates. Yes, even Lila. Which says something given how much she initially despised Lila for the fake interview and how long she held that grudge against her. Going from outright dislike to grudgingly hanging out with to swallowing her pride and giving a real chance to actual collaboration on revealing a major truth.

Now that’s progress.

And speaking of progress…

2. Journalist Has A Point

Look, many a story will have THAT character. You know the one. Whether a detective, journalist, or conspiracy theorist, THAT character is devoted to uncovering the truth, whatever it may be—and usually in the form of plot-relevant secrets and useful information. 

So one of the biggest disappointments you can create is having such a character 

with all the drive and reasoning to investigate be in a prime position to uncover a major plot point, in which you give them all the resources and all the motivation to make the discovery…and yet have them do nothing.

Or worse, have the truth spoon fed to them instead when it’s convenient. No effort. No drama or antics. No surprise. No real reaction to the revelation. Just take away all the fun why don’t you?

Alya is a major fan of heroes and a journalist in the making. When these things mix, you have a ready-made source of humor and drama in a character with the dual position of he hero’s best friend who doesn’t know her secret and a wannabe investigator who risks discovering the hero’s secret. Normally, such a position would involve a number of antics over a multitude of episodes, with the friend being in a prime position to out the hero and the hero having to regularly come up with ways to distract and mislead the friend in question in order to protect the secret.

In canon, we get all of two episodes that even play with this setup. Two in the four seasons it takes for Marinette to just blurt it out to Alya. Lady Wifi and Pharaoh. That’s it. And of those two, Lady Wifi had Marinette completely unconcerned with Alya’s claim of knowing Ladybug’s identity. No drama. No conflict. No antics. No attempts at misdirection. No introspection or question if maybe revealing the city’s hero is even a good idea. No internal questioning if Alya should be told the secret—if she’s trustworthy or if she would be in danger. No continued attempts to uncover her identity as if Alya had just gotten bored with it. Nothing.

And if you know anything from my previous essays, you know that few things frustrate me more than having a great setup that practically writes itself and doing NOTHING WITH IT.

In Scarlet Lady, that setup is nixed from the start since Marinette didn’t start off as the hero. Instead, what we have is a situation where Alya idolizes the self-proclaimed hero of the city, completely ignorant to the truth that we as the audience were already immediately made aware of: that said hero is Chloe and she is ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE!

Marinette is aware of her being horrible. Adrien is FULLY aware of her being horrible. WE all know she is horrible. But Alya, like most of the city, is enthralled and supportive of her as the “Hero of the City”.

This change immediately created a whole new setup. Where Alya is a fan of a hero while being ignorant to that hero’s true nature. Where WE know and even other characters in the show know, but it’s impossible to convince anyone else of this truth. I’m sure you all know what it’s like watching any character in that sort of situation. It hurts. But not as much as it’s bound to hurt her by the end.

And indeed it does, as it kickstarts what initially starts off as a funny setup where Marinette and others stay quiet and try to be supportive while inwardly cringing as Alya creates and manages a blog dedicated to the worst person ever sans Hawk Moth and Gabriel Agreste.

Adding to this is that said person won’t give Alya or her blog the time of day. Chloe has no respect or appreciation for the level of commitment Alya has or how much Alya helped her to get her fame, and even calls Alya a “stalker” at one point. (Not that she’s technically wrong to be fair, but bear with me.) This is a testament to Chloe’s view of heroism as a whole and her expectations regarding the treatment she should receive. Nevermind that Chloe’s initial rise to the spotlight was in great part because Alya was the one to put said spotlight on her in the first place. Chloe doesn’t acknowledge favors, only what she is owed.

This puts Alya in a difficult position. Unlike Canon, she doesn’t have the support of a hero to promote her blog. She is a teenager with no preexisting status as a reporter and no real connections or backing for people to take her seriously. And in a world of already established media and tons of fans like herself no doubt also trying to make names for themselves in similar niche areas, she has nothing to really make herself stand out. What ends up working for her is the live footage she gets of the akumas and the battles, which is exceedingly dangerous and puts Alya in danger. But to her, it’s worth it to be able to enjoy her two passions.

It is painful. It HURTS me to see Alya so devoted to someone who I know full well doesn’t deserve it and it hurt even MORE to see how Alya was finally forced to face the truth. Her reaction was real. Her difficulty accepting the truth that we all knew from the start and that Alya could have (and probably should have) picked up on as a journalist if she only investigated everything outside of the “Heroes WOW” light.

But this doesn’t make me look badly upon Alya. It’s not entirely her fault. It’s reasonable that Alya wouldn’t have known. Given Scar’s refusal to work with anyone outside of publications that “meet her standards”, Alya hadn’t gotten to interact closely enough with Scar to really see her “in action” so to speak. Not for some time.

Alya does ultimately end up finding the truth, but it’s not the one she initially went searching for. What started out as a love for heroes mixed with her interest in journalism slowly turned into a realization of what heroism actually is and who the true heroes are…and aren’t.

And with this realization comes a new outlook, new alliances, new goals, and a new plan to reveal the truth about Scar and just who is really the hero or the “sidekick” in the heroes team.

This here? This gives Alya purpose. It also emphasizes her role in the story and the impact she has. Because over time, the thing that most showed her flaws and ignorance became a major strength—AND ended up benefiting the city as a whole.

She was the only person who actively tried to help Chat when he was on the run in Copycat and gave him the info to know what was going on and who the true culprit was (especially important because Adrien had NO way of knowing what was going on or why he was being framed and Scar certainly wasn’t going to help).

She gave Lila and others a chance to share their stories that otherwise never would have been told. Especially notable given Alya’s initial dislike of Lila for her lies, something she continued to hold a grudge over for a long time after.

And as a result, she is a major contributor to Scar’s declining popularity as she helps spread the truth. Which adds a nice bit of irony to the situation that the little blog that gave Chloe her start and that she ignored ended up becoming something so major that it destroyed her narrative. 

Alya had been seeking the truth, been blinded to it, struggled to accept it, went out of her way to confirm it, and then shared it. Maybe it’s not as impressive as taking down the akumas directly, but it has a much greater overall impact on the story and helping get some of that sweet sweet karma we’d all been waiting for. And best of all, she does the one thing that many of us have also been wanting for Canon: to have SOMEONE investigate Hawk Moth and realize the puzzle pieces are pointing at Gabriel Agreste. 

If only she could have confirmed it a little sooner…

3. Alya as a Person

Alya is a teenager. She is a teenage girl and that shines in Scarlet Lady.

We see her PUMPED at the discovery of heroes in Paris. We see her genuinely EXCITED over the prospect of being a hero. We see her flip her focus and be SERIOUS over serious and not so serious things. We see her unapologetically and hilariously reject Adrien’s pleas for a trade of jobs only to be a hypocrite and turn around and beg him for the same. We see her get terrifyingly ENRAGED at Nino for changing her script without discussing it with her. We see her be PETTY and RESENTFUL over falling for Lila’s lies. We see her be IN LOVE after Animan. Plus how could I not love her sheer GLEE over getting to face off with Nora?

But what really made me love this Alya and put her leagues above canon is her growth. Growth that she didn't really get in Canon. And a lot of that growth was evident through her discovery of the truth that was right in front of her and how she had gone so long without seeing it.

And when she is finally hit with the reality that her hero is no hero and that she was wrong? It’s hard. No kid wants to admit being wrong about anything, but especially not about a belief like that. Not the idea of heroes and not over your hero specifically. Especially when you realize you spent so LONG devoted to something only to find out you were wrong, other people knew, and you could have/SHOULD have known had you really tried to look.

And Alya….did NOT take it like a champ.

Denial was the name of the game. But her growth came in acknowledging that she was wrong, WHERE she went wrong, and taking steps to move forward with what she knew. Not by doubling down and demanding “evidence” that should have been easy to find if she just looked, but by investigating the truth even if it’s one she knew she wouldn’t like. And even if it involved things she didn’t want to do. To this end, she made up with Lila and the two actually ended up working together to change the tide of public opinion against her over time. 

Let’s note that: She went back on her earlier promise to herself, forgave and worked with someone that she disliked, and let go of her own pride and resentment in order to get to the truth that she originally never wanted to acknowledge.

Alya in Scarlet Lady plays more of a role in the series than she did in Canon. She wasn’t just “Marinette’s best friend” and “Ladybug fangirl” or a tool or prop for setting up certain scenes where Marinette suffers or Adrinette is given a half hearted attempt.

Alya is her own person. She disliked someone the others like or come to like. She adored someone the others and even we as the audience couldn’t stand. She stood up to her sister for herself and with the backing of her friends. She was silly at times for all that she tried to be serious and mature. She was oblivious and opinionated. She was wrong about a core issue to the story.

And that was perfectly okay.

Not because the narrative said so. Not because anything she did was hand waved. Not because Marinette or anyone else was thrown in as a scapegoat to distract attention away from her.

But because Alya is a well-written character with a personality that makes her a PERSON rather than a prop. Which makes her development into a hero feel rewarding rather than an obligation.

4. Alya as a Hero

Okay, Sapotis in Canon wasn’t bad. It worked as a new hero episode. It worked as the FIRST new hero episode. It made sense for Alya to help corral her sisters. I loved Trixx and his subtle means of testing Alya. It also had Alya getting some personal development as she changes from her initial stance of wanting to reveal her identity as a hero to knowing when to keep some truths hidden.

The problem is that lesson didn’t really stick as Alya goes on to demand a truth from Marinette that isn’t her right to know, try to force Marinette to tell a truth when she isn’t ready to reveal it, and betray Marinette’s trust and reveal the secret just to make things easier for herself and her relationship with Nino.

Gotta say, not impressed with Alya as a hero in Canon. Especially given how much the narrative had gone out of its way to keep portraying Alya as being in the right in each instance she was involved in regardless of what she actually did.

Then there’s the matter of the issue of her getting the Fox Miraculous after everything that happened with Lila and the complete LACK of Fox Vs Fox/Alya VS Lila/Truth VS Lies setup that such a setup would have been primed for. And if they weren’t going to do that or even anything with Alya and Trixx, then what was the point of giving Alya the Fox? There was just really nothing else that came out of a truth-seeker like Alya getting a Miraculous specifically involved in setting illusions and how that could develop her character.

@punchlord has already done multiple evaluations of the characters and Miraculous and which ones would best/least fit and why, and has done so much more detailed and eloquently than I can really offer here. Instead, I want to focus on SL!Alya and the changes Zoe made.

Here’s the thing: we all knew going in that Zoe was going to follow Canon for the most part. She admitted as such. We also knew that some kwami-swapping was bound to happen as a result of the changes to the world. Chloe gets the Ladybug. Marinette gets the Bee. Sabrina was bound to get something at some point that wasn’t the Dog. And yes, Lila too.

But NONE of us were expecting that Alya and Nino would swap their Miraculous AND their hero episodes!

And it worked. It worked so well.

Koki Marina is an awesome hero with such a stand-out look. And the one image of her playing with her fluffy hair always makes me smile.

The changes Zoe made vastly improved the Anansi storyline. Nino deserved his own hero episode that wasn’t just focus on him secondary to an issue for Alya and ultimately accomplish nothing on his own while someone else solves the problem for him...twice. And Alya deserved to be the one to deal with Nora and take control of her life.

The thing is, this was an episode with a lesson that was misplaced. Misplaced andmishandled, much like many episodes in the original series.

In Anansi, the biggest problem wasn’t that Nino couldn’t prove he could protect Alya, it was that Nora was overstepping on Alya’s life in the first place, especially when it wasn’t necessary. She didn’t consider that ANYONE ELSE could protect Alya—even the heroes when it is their job to fight the akumas. 

But more specifically, she wasn’t willing to consider that Alya could protect HERSELF. Especially of note considering that by this point in both versions, Alya had been running around and getting involved in the fights with the heroes for blog views. And in Canon specifically, Alya had already been a temp hero—I was surprised and disappointed that Alya didn’t argue more and struggle with NOT revealing that fact in the episode. But I digress…

If Alya was to get a hero episode, this was the better setup for it. And Zoe saw that and provided us that sweet sweet payout, with Alya proving herself and helping to take down her older sister. And just the absolute GLEE she had in doing so. The sort of glee you’d see in any younger sibling getting a chance to take on and show up their older sibling. All the younger siblings out there should know it. 

Plus her and Wayzz bonding, omg they are so cute.

While Canon Sapotis was decent (if not a bit frustrating with the lack of lessons for the twins after all their antics), in my view, SL Anansi actually HIT in all the right ways and felt more satisfying overall in comparison as Alya’s hero episode and ESPECIALLY in comparison to the Canon Anansi itself. 

It’s a good episode with a stable episode-centric arc, where the conflict starts with Alya NOT really being able to face down Nora alone and only manages to overpower Nora in an arm wrestling contest because her friends back her and take on Nora in a 4 on 1 match and overpower her together. This is highlighted later in the episode when Alya faces Nora alone to buy Marigold time and is shown to struggle. Then gets the power boost through the Turtle Miraculous that lets her effectively take her down save her. Cough. Yes. Just save her.

It’s a very empowering story for Alya. But it plays a bigger role than that, too. It’s not just the start of Alya being a hero, it’s also the point where she really starts to turn things around in terms of the overarching story of the comic.

This episode is the follow up to Sapotis, where the other characters are having a sleepover partly to look after the younger kids but also specifically to try and support Alya as she comes to terms with the realization that her hero is a fraud. Yes, Alya already knew that Scar was horrible by the time Anansi happened, but actually being a hero and having to work with Scar gives her an up close and personal look at how Scar treats the other heroes and how much—or rather little she actually does in a crisis.

It’s also the point where Alya seems to gain more confidence and also direct her reporting to a better end. And by the end of the episode, we really see Alya starting to use her skills to this purpose. This is when we get to see Alya actually BE the journalist she wanted to claim she was.

This? Right here? This goes to show that not only does Alya herself make a great hero, but that becoming a hero helped Alya improve herself as well. Which is something we should be seeing more of in such stories with teenagers gaining superpowers.

So all that being said, SL Alya succeeds where her Canon counterpart fails. The narrative points out when she’s wrong. She learns lessons. She is silly at times and acknowledged to be silly. But through it all, she retains the heart that makes her a good friend and the passion that shows her to be not only a journalist, but a HERO in the making.

[bottlesandcats]

Ok, we need to talk about Sam’s shelf of photographs (spoils ahead).

Please bear with me while I put my tin hat on and pull some total bullshit out of my ass. (My qualifications are next to nothing, unless you count 15+ yrs of interpreting destiel subtext and four years of studying Sam and Bucky’s relationship.)

Check out @f-misc’s post here, which has the most detailed shots of the photo display I’ve seen. Props to them for putting this together.

The framed items we can actually identify are a snap of Sam and Riley, an older black air force pilot (I’m going to assume a family member, likely the person who inspired Sam to go into the Air Force), a pic of Sam and Bucky, drawings of Sam as Captain America (I’m going to guess these were made by Sam’s nephews), a photo of Sarah on the boat and one of Sam with Torres.

From my experience, men aren’t often portrayed as photos/sentimental keepsakes so the fact that Sam is shown as having photos, and the camera takes the time to linger on them, is meaningful. Also, they’re at his office, which to me, is even more indicative of their importance. Sam probably spends most of his time there, when not on missions, so it would make sense that he’d want to keep such reminders of those he values most in a place where he will see them the most often.

Here’s where the sambucky of it all comes into play. Interestingly we don’t see a picture of Steve or Natasha, both of whom we know Sam was quite close with. They were essentially the ones who brought him into the avengers and he spent two years being on the run with them; I’m sure at some point, pictures were taken. This tells me that this display shelf is reserved for those that Sam cherishes the most: his family, his closest friend and partner who died, his current partner and mentee, and Bucky. What’s more, is that the photo of Sam and Bucky is front and center on the middle shelf, which is literally at Sam’s eye level. It’s a spot where Sam’s gaze will naturally come to rest, which tells me this photo is one Sam likes to look at a lot. Why does he look at it so much? What could POSSIBLY be the REASON????

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[yoonguurt]

Pairing: non idol Jihoon x F!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, smut

Trope: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 5,088 

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: Jihoon always joins in when his group of friends makes fun of Mingyu for being a simp for his girlfriend. It isn’t that he thinks that a man shouldn’t go above and beyond for their significant other, it’s just that he hasn’t had a girlfriend that makes him want to go that far. Maybe one day, though.

A/N: This is for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid event! Surpise @strawberry-skiess I'm your cupid! This honestly was hard to start, but once I started I just couldn't stop. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Valentine's Day (even though I'm a day late) Thanks to @kwanisms for this lovely little banner. I love it so much. This is for adults only, no minors allowed! I will fight you.

Read all of the other wonderful entries here

Smut Warnings: slight nipple play, dom!Jihoon, sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex (do not), maybe two thigh slaps

“Well, if it isn’t the simp of the century.” Jeonghan’s voice floats through Jihoon’s ears and he looks to the door as Mingyu walks in. Over the last couple of months, calling their group giant a simp has become something of a ritual. They don’t mean it, they honestly think it’s adorable how whipped Mingyu is. And he certainly isn’t ashamed of it. He wears the title like a badge of honor. “Still single and bitchy, I see.” Mingyu’s retort is almost immediate, a cheshire grin adorning his face as he watches the rest of the group burst into laughter and Jeonghan’s face turn into a mix between a smirk and a scowl. 

Jihoon retreats into his thoughts while his friends chatter amongst themselves. He does think it’s sweet how much Mingyu loves his girlfriend, he just isn’t sure that he understands. Sure, he’s had a few relationships of his own, and while he cared about them, even loved one or two, he has never known the amount of love Mingyu seems to wield. His friend found his self described love of his life around 4 months ago and he’s been head over heels the entire time. Jihoon has watched Mingyu rush to get to his phone when he gets a text, with a special ringtone for his girlfriend, and smile like an idiot at whatever it is she has said.

He’s lived through Mingyu leaving nights at the bar solely because his girl wanted to cuddle. When her birthday came around, the two men spent hours going through unlimited stores while Mingyu tried to find the perfect present. Every time Jihoon suggested something, Mingyu had a retort on why it wasn’t good enough. The new cd by her favorite band? “I don’t have enough time to get it signed.” The pretty pink purse that screamed something his girlfriend would like? “I already got her that one.” Eventually, the tall man had settled on a necklace that Jihoon was certain cost more than a used car. Mingyu had the money to throw around, he guessed. 

Part of Jihoon wants to know what it’s like to feel like that. Another part thinks that it seems like a burden. He can’t decide where he stands on the topic. Sure, he wants that great love that novels describe, wants to give his heart to someone and know that they’ll always be there. But at the same time, he isn’t sure he’ll find someone that can deal with his finicky moods. There are times when he wants someone to cuddle, only to immediately change his mind. He knows that can be annoying, and he is working on it. One of his other issues is time. He takes his job seriously. 

Working as a producer, he is a busy man. He doesn’t know if there’s a person out there that will understand that sometimes, he loses himself in his work. His phone drifts to the back of his mind, dates forgotten without him meaning to. It’s the main reason his relationships have failed. He genuinely doesn’t mean to, and it’s another thing he has been working on. He’s been getting better at responding to his friends in a timely manner, he’s even taken to setting alarms on his phones so he doesn’t miss the planned hangouts. Sure, he still falls into the music and forgets the world around him, but he’s getting better.

There has always been an exception, though. You. His best friend. The two of you have known each other for years, having met in freshman year of college. Your sunny disposition sometimes clashed with the grumpy facade he puts on, but it’s always worked. A couple of his exes thought there was something going on between the two of you, but that’s never been the case. He just clicks with you. You understand him. You’re a busy woman, too. The journalism world stops for no one. 

“Isn’t that right, Jihoon?” He snaps head up toward the voice. Soonyoung looks at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to agree with him. “Sorry, what?” The huff of air that comes from Soonyoung’s mouth lets him know how annoyed his friend is. “I said that it’s cute that Mingyu loves his girl so much, isn’t that right?” Honestly, he doesn’t know how to answer this. “Sure, it’s cute, but it seems exhausting.” The sound of a scoff comes from behind him and he turns to the sound. He hadn’t realized that you were here. He suddenly feels like he said something wrong, like when a teacher calls on you to answer in class and you fumble and answer wrong. It’s embarrassing for some reason. “So what I’m hearing is that you would find caring for your partner that much to be an inconvenience?” Everyone’s eyes flit between you and Jihoon, waiting for a debate to start. The two of you have always been like that. You’re able to have a small, argumentative conversation and then go back to joking like it never happened. 

Jihoon sighs deeply, knowing where this is going. “That’s not what I said.” His tone lets you know just how annoyed at having a conversation like this again. “I’m just saying that Mingyu’s level of simpdom sounds like a bit much. I’m happy he has someone that he loves so much, but being at her beck and call constantly sounds tiring.” Mingyu responds before you can even open your mouth. “That isn’t how it is.” His tone isn’t defensive in any way. He just sounds like he’s explaining something to a child. “She doesn’t ask me to do any of that. She actually encourages me to have fun with you guys. I just feel so happy that I have her and I want to make sure she knows that.” 

Jihoon stays silent for a moment, thinking over Mingyu’s words. He thinks to himself, wandering again if he’s ever had something like that. He thinks the closest thing he’s had is you. He’s dropped more things that he can count to be at your side when you need him. He’s even dipped on girlfriends because you were upset. Once, he canceled on his most recent ex just because you secured a front page spot for the local paper. He needed to be the one to celebrate your accomplishment with you, needed to be the first one to congratulate you. He didn’t want to think too deeply about what that meant. Sure, he had had a massive crush on you in college, he thought he might have been in love with you, but that had disappeared a long time ago. 

When you showed no sign of reciprocating his feelings, he decided to let it go, letting you go, at least in the romantic sense. 

Of course, there were still times where he’d look at you and think about how beautiful you were, especially when you’d just woken up and the light was hitting you in a specific way. But, that was just him appreciating your beauty as a best friend. He was sure of it. Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he glanced at Mingyu, nodding his head. “I guess I could see how someone could feel that way.” He chose to ignore the way Soonyoung cut his eyes toward him, knowing what he was thinking. Soonyoung had been the only person who had known about his college crush. He always insisted that you had felt the same, and that Jihoon still held a candle for you. 

“You’ll find it one day, Hoon. Don’t close yourself off to it.” Your voice is strained, though you try to hide it. You’ve always admired Jihoon, even if he was a bit closed off. He’d never really let himself go in a relationship. It was like he never felt comfortable. But you knew him at his core, knew how sweet and thoughtful he was. He had always been there for you when you needed him, which was probably why your love for him had never died. You’d tried to find someone else, dated people, even loved one or two, but not like you loved Jihoon. No one could compare. You’ve seen every side of him and there isn’t a single one of them that you don’t adore. He’s also been growing his hair and God does he look better than you’ve ever seen him. You can tell his confidence has grown a little and that is even more attractive. You know you’re well and truly fucked, but you aren’t sure you want to change that.

The night winds down and everyone gathers their things to leave. Soonyoung takes the time to pull Jihoon aside, making the younger boy look at his friend in confusion. “Look, I know you’re going to deny it like you always do, but watching you two pine after each other is getting hard to do.” Jihoon opens his mouth, only to be silenced by Soonyoung’s hand lifting in the air. “Have you ever stopped to think that there’s a reason that relationships never worked out for either of you? If you haven’t, then think about it, ok?” Soonyoung clapped his friend on the shoulder before he moved to hug you and tell you goodbye. 

“I’ll help clean up.” Jihoon’s words cut into your thoughts, distracting you from what it is you were thinking. You turned to face him, a teasing smirk gracing your features. “Take a look around. There’s nothing to clean up. Go home and actually get some sleep tonight. I know you have to be at the studio early tomorrow, just like I know you haven’t been sleeping. Just listen to me and go sleep.” He was baffled at how you knew that, but then again it was a talent you seemed to have. Knowing everything without him having to tell you. But then again, he guessed he had the same talent. It was like a sixth sense. Some real ‘There’s a disturbance’ shit. He simply nodded at you, saying goodnight and leaving without even stopping to think that you barely had to have any force behind your turn to get him to do exactly what you wanted.

The thinking came when he walked through his door. A lot of it. Soonyoung’s words began to float through his mind. Did they have any weight to them at all? Sure, relationships had really never worked out for the two of you, but that didn’t mean anything. Relationships come and go, that’s what they do. Occasionally, people get lucky and they find who they’re supposed to be with. Sometimes, they don’t. That was just life, it didn’t mean that the two of you were the reason the other’s relationships failed. The more he thought about it, though, the more merit Soonyoung’s words seemed to hold. Any time you needed him, he came running, and the same applied to you. You’ve both left dates and anniversaries because the other needed something. He’s had to assure quite a few exs that there was nothing romantic between the two of you and if he had to guess, he’d say you’ve done the same. Everything hits him at all once and he feels the need to sit down to process. 

You’re going through your own mental roller coaster. You know that Jihoon could find his person if he would just let someone in. It doesn’t have to be you, though you desperately want it to be, you just want him to find someone that will make him happy, someone that will bring out the loving side you know that he has. You sigh deeply as you lock up your apartment, making your way to your bed to get some much needed sleep.

You don’t hear from Jihoon for a few days, but that isn’t totally unusual. Sometimes he gets so lost in the music and you just wait until he’s back in the land of the living. But as a whole week passes, you start to worry. He’s never gone more than 3 days without speaking to you. You try to play through the events of the last time you saw him, thinking about if you had done something out of the norm. The only thing you think of is the conversation everyone had about Mingyu. He must have been offended that he was ganged up on, but then again that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t the first time everyone had had this conversation and he has never reacted like this before. It takes a split second for you to make up your mind and grab your purse and walk out the door.

Jihoon sits at his computer, staring past it like it’s not even there. He can’t focus, hasn’t been able to focus for a week. His thoughts always float back to you and how he feels. Now that he has realized he does in fact have feelings for you still, he can’t seem to bring himself to face you. What if he acts different? What if you realize? He can’t risk it. There are too many years of friendship on the line. Sure, not answering your texts is the coward’s way out, but he doesn’t know what else to do. As he had sat on his couch a week ago, the realization that he was in love with you hit him in the face. Damn Soonyoung. He would have been totally fine if he had kept being ignorant. Now though, he knows that he’d do anything for you. He knows that he already does do anything for you. 

The beeping on the keypad to his studio brings his attention back to reality. There are select few who know the code to his studio and he looks at the door with held breath, hoping it isn’t who he knows it is. You swing the door open, displeasure written all over your face. “What the fuck, Lee Jihoon?” He grimaces, hating that you’ve pulled his full name out of your pocket. If he didn’t before, he knows now that he is in deep trouble. He sits in his chair, slouching like a scolded child as you glare at him. “No text in a week. No reply in a week. Nothing to let me know that you’re even alive. Who the hell do you think you are?” Jihoon almost wants to laugh, thinking you’re adorable even when you’re angry, but he doesn’t dare. He knows that will only make things worse for him. 

Jihoon is hit with a sudden urge to touch you and he can’t hold back. He quickly stands and moves towards you slowly, watching as your demeanor changes. You go from angry to confused as you watch his steps. He stops in front of you, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” The words are whispered, but you can still hear them. All of the anger leaves you, almost. You hit his shoulder lightly, making him giggle slightly. “You damn well should be. Had my ass worried sick, asshole.” There’s a playfulness in your tone, one that you can’t help but let out. Your confusion grows as you realize that Jihoon hasn’t stopped hugging you. That is definitely different. Jihoon hates physical touch, he always has. In the entirety of your friendship, he’s only hugged you a handful of times and everyone has been quick, lasting only a few seconds.

“What happened to you in the past week for you to be so affectionate? You hate physical affection.” Your words come out teasing, trying to mask your genuine curiosity as a joke. He doesn’t answer for a moment, seeming content to just continue holding you. When he finally does speak, you choke on air, starting a small coughing fit. “Yeah, but I love you.” There’s no teasing tone. No joking. You can hear the sincerity in his voice. You have no words. No thoughts, head empty. 

Jihoon pulls back just enough to look at you and you can see the hesitation and worry in his eyes. You need to say something, you want to say something, but nothing is coming out. Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish gasping for air and you’re sure you look ridiculous. When you finally find words, they aren’t what you planned to say. “Are you sure about that?” Jihoon can’t contain his laugh and the sound hits you in your gut. It makes every fiber of your being tingle. Hearing him laugh brings you back to reality and you give him a playful shove, smiling and letting out a huff of laughter of your own. “Shut up.” There’s no real bite to your words and you know that he knows that. “I tell you that I love you and your response is to ask me if I’m sure?” He’s teasing you and loving it and you pout. “Hey! It’s a perfectly valid question!” Looking at him your heart surges with affection. 

“As funny as that was, I’m kind of panicking over here. A response would be nice, even if it’s a rejection.” Jihoon chews his lip as the nerves show on his face. You can’t help but smile at him and reach up and lace your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Have I told you how much I love your hair like this?” Your statement throws him off guard and he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Wha-” You cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Almost as much as I love you.” The smile that comes across his face could light up a room with no lights. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?” He giggles against your lips as you give him a pout and a shove. His reaction is to pull you closer to him, pressing you as close to his body as possible. 

His eyes flit down to your lips before trailing back to your eyes, in silent question. You give him a slight nod, knowing that he’ll get the message. You watch as his lips slowly move towards yours, as if he’s teasing you by making you wait. You let out a whine of impatience and he giggles. He can’t help but give you what you want. When he finally presses his mouth to yours, it’s like the world explodes in a rainbow of colors you didn’t even know existed. You feel as if your entire purpose makes sense now that you have tasted his lips. It doesn’t take long before the sweet pecks turn into desperate, open mouthed kisses. His tongue dances with yours, fighting for dominance, which he quickly wins. The way he takes control of the kiss goes straight to your core. You’d thought about this and sure, you thought he’d be more of a dominant lover, but the reality is greater than what you could imagine. And this is only kissing. You can only imagine what it’s going to be like when he’s actually fucking you. The thought alone has your thighs clenching.

Of course, Jihoon notices even though you’re trying to be subtle about it. He pulls back with a smirk. “Oh? Is someone getting needy?” The way his voice drops in octave only causes you to clench tighter and let out a small whimper. Jihoon’s lips make their way to your neck, leaving small nibbles and kisses in their wake. “Aww. My poor baby. Already getting desperate, huh?” All you can do is nod against him as your hands grab at his shirt. He lets out a deep chuckle against the skin of your neck and the vibrations make you shiver. His hand slowly makes its way from your neck down the front of your chest, stopping just above your breast. He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, silent asking for consent. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you take his hand, completely bypassing your clothed breast and placing it at the hem of your shirt. He takes the hint, leaning back just enough to lift your shirt from your body.

The chilly air in the studio causes your nipples to harden immediately and Jihoon’s eyes fall to your chest and darken with lust. His hands instantly find your bra covered breasts, pulling the cups down just enough to him to see your peaked buds. Taking one in between his thumb and index fingers, he pinches lightly, just enough to see your reaction. When you arch into him, he smirks, knowing he’s found something you like. “Hoon, please.” Your voice is light and airy, the need evident. “Please what, sweetheart? What do you need? You’ve gotta use your words, pretty.” The way you buck your hips and whine tells him all he needs to know. 

He moves his fingers to the button of your pants, making a show of slowly loosening the button. His teasing is both driving you crazy and making you more horny than you have ever been. Your hips are bucking into nothing, desperate for some sort of stimulation. When he finally gets the button undone, he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down as he lowers himself. “Hands above your head, baby. No moving unless I say.” The softness of his tone does nothing to hide the dominance and it makes you weak. You nod and move your hands above your head against the wall. Jihoon flashes you a smile that makes your heart flutter. “What a good girl I have. You listen so well, my love.” 

When he taps your leg to signal for you to lift your legs to step out of the pants. You obey slowly, trying to tease him a little bit. A quick slap to your thigh makes you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips. “Behave. I’m trying to make our first time sweet. Don’t test me, angel.” His patience wavers slightly when he can’t wait to remove your panties, simply using his strength to rip them so that they fall off of you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “Holy shit, Jihoon.” He smirks like he knows how much his strength affects you, because he does. He doesn’t say anything, simply lifts your right leg and places it over his shoulder. Your breath hitches as you look down at him, making eye contact as he makes a show of sticking his tongue out, flicking it over your clit. The sudden contact makes you jerk forward and your eyes fall closed. Even though the action was nowhere near enough, it made you even more wet. You’re practically dripping at this point and once glance at the man below you lets you know that he enjoys the effect he has on you. 

He spends what feels like forever just slowly giving your clit kitten licks, driving you insane just as slowly. Without warning, his actions speed up. He grips your hips and harshly pulls them forward, shoving his face as far into your pussy as he can get it. The moan you emit is bordering on pornagraphic. Your fingers twitch, wanting so badly to grip him by the hair and ride his face. As if he can sense your thoughts, he pulls back, making you whine. “Don’t even try it. Move those hands and you won’t cum at all.” The slight growl in his voice does things to your insides. “Yes, sir.” Your voice is low and desperate and Jihoon groans, approving of your choice of title. 

He dives back into your cunt, quickly sliding his middle finger inside of you, his ring following a few seconds later. He curls his fingers, searching for the spot that he knows will make you come undone. It doesn’t take him long to find it, pressing the tips of his fingers against it and rubbing. You can’t control the sounds that come from your throat and you’re beyond glad the studio is soundproof. You can feel yourself getting closer to your peak and you do your best to communicate that. “Ji, please. So close.” Your hips are moving without your control, chasing your end on instinct. Jihoon leans back long enough to give you permission to come. “That’s it baby. Let it go. Let me taste you. Give it to me.” His words throw you over the precipice, launching your mind into a different plane, one that is filled with nothing but pleasure and the sound of his voice. Jihoon works you through your orgasm, slowing down gradually to draw it out as long as possible. 

“Breathe, love. In and out.” You don’t even realize how hard you’re panting, but you listen to him regardless. Your eyes are closed and your legs feel like jelly and you’re aware that you’re only standing because he’s holding you up. You aren’t sure when he stood, brushing his fingers across your face and through your hair. When you finally return to reality, he’s looking at you with concern. “Are you ok?” His voice is shaky with hints of worry and his eyes flicker all over your face like he’s looking for some sign of distress. It takes you a moment to respond and when you do, you can only say the first thing that pops into your mind. “Are you fucking kidding me? That was insane and amazing and I need your cock in me right now or I’ll die.” The laugh Jihoon lets out is loud and unrestrained and it makes you smile. 

He places a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his lips. His hands take hold of yours and he slowly moves you toward the couch that sits against the wall behind his computer chair. With another kiss, he steps back, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “Lay down on your back, baby.” You don’t even think before doing as he says, keeping your eyes on his as he lifts his shirt over his head. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jihoon shirtless, but the fact that you know what’s about to happen makes it all the more erotic. He drops the shirt on the floor, not caring where it lands, moving his hands to the basketball shorts he’s wearing. Your breath hitches in anticipation, and you refuse to even blink as he eases his shorts and boxers down together. When his length comes into view, your mouth goes dry. He’s the perfect amount of length and girth, not too long or short and you just know the stretch will be heavenly. He watches you look at him for a moment before he steps out of his clothes completely and makes his way to the couch where your body lies limp and needy.

His eyes wander your body, simply taking you in, clearly liking the way you’re spread out for him. “You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?” The way he’s looking at you makes your insides turn to mush and you reach for him, making grabby hands at him. He gives you a soft smile, kneeling in between your legs and linking his fingers with yours. After giving each hand a kiss, he lifts them to fit around his neck, leaning down to give a slow kiss, full of nothing but love. Giving you one last questioning look, he waits for you to smile and nod before he reaches down to align his length with your entrance. When he pushes forward, it feels like the world expands and closes in at the same time. You’re hyper aware of everything while also only focusing on the feel of him. It’s like you’ve finally found a piece of yourself that you didn’t even know you were missing. 

The first thrust steals every bit of oxygen you have, replacing it with love and just Jihoon. The sound he makes causes a groan to erupt from your throat. He sounds wrecked already and you love that you’re the one that is making him that way. His face buries itself in your neck, lips littering kisses along the exposed skin. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You can tell that he’s holding himself back. You lift your head just enough for your lips to be close to his ear, giving it a soft bite. “Jihoon, you can be soft later. Right now, I need you to fuck me.” It seems like that’s all he needed to hear. He pulls his hips back until his cock is almost completely out of you before he slams back in. Hard. The movement jolts your whole body, shoving your head against the arm of the couch. Without missing a beat, Jihoon brings his hand down to place it between your head and the couch, his thrusts still hard and fast. 

With the combination of his speed, depth and roughness, you’re embarrassingly close to coming for the second time. You dig the nails of one hand into the skin of his back, the other making its way to his hair, pulling just enough for him to feel it. The groan he lets out lets you know that he very much enjoys that. Your moans are loud and mixing with the filthy babbles that are coming from him. Praise of how good you feel, how badly he’s wanted this, how you’re his now. Your orgasm hits you full force without you even realizing just how close you were. The squeezing of your pussy around his cock and the look on your face has Jihoon following you immediately, filling your cunt with every bit of cum he has. You look up at him, and his breath hitches. You’re so, so beautiful and so, so his. Looking at you like this, he knows that he would do anything for you. Anything just to see you happy and smiling. He would eat glass if that would cause you joy, even though he knows it wouldn’t. A sudden realization hits him and he lowers his head.

“Shit, I’m a simp, too.”

[minju4won]

— paparazzi

— when your relationship is discovered by the media.

enhypen hyung line x femreader

희승

your relationship was discreet, or at least that’s what you thought.

you and heeseung had started dating for about three and a half years. you and him had met through a mutual friend, even though you knew heeseung liked you, you hadn’t wanted to go out with him. and there was a reason.

heseung was an idol.

you knew what you would face, that’s why since you started feeling things for him, you walked away. but he didn’t give up, he wrote to you and called you to meet.

until he got tired.

at first you thought it was the best, but little by little you had no motivation to go out with your friends, you just wanted to be in the house and you didn’t even eat. you realized that you were going through a breakup of a relationship that you didn’t even have.

being alone made you realize that you were in love with heeseung. that even though you could live without him, heeseung was now a part of your life and your happiness.

that day you called him and confessed your feelings and your worries. that day heeseung went to your house and promised you that he would do everything possible so that their relationship was not revealed.

and so he did for three and a half years.

now you were trying to make some “cookies” if you could call it that.

“don’t put that on the cookies” you screamed laughing. “it’s going to be horrible”

heeseung ignored you and also put a couple of drops of spice to the cookies.

“i don’t know if you knew, but before being an idol i was a professional cook”

you rolled your eyes and approached him to take away his boat. “i’m serious.”

your boyfriend smiled when he saw you upset and grabbed you by the waist to start kissing you all over your face. you tried to look upset, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his kisses.

“if they are very spicy, you will eat it by yourself”

“if they are very spicy, i’ll make one just for you”

you let out a laugh when you saw how your boyfriend managed to disappear your little anger.

you felt the caresses he was giving you on your waist and you brought your face closer to kiss him.

but his phone had ringed.

“they calling you”

heeseung touched your forehead and stroked your cheek. “try not to burn the kitchen” you rolled your eyes and pushed him. you saw how your boyfriend left the kitchen and you put the cookies in the oven.

heeseung closed the door of the room while he saw who was calling him, he frowned as he accepted the call.

“jungwon? something happened?”

heeseung tried not to be anxious by not hearing anything from jungwon. only silence. something serious had happened. very serious.

“they know” heeseung heard. “they know about your relationship with y/n.”

suddenly, heeseung’s heart had stopped.

“what are you talking about, jungwon?” he said shouting under his breath, he didn’t want you to find out, not at that moment.

“a sasaeng, hyung. she’s been chasing you for several months. there are photos of you kissing, holding hands.” heeseung sat on the bed and rested his hands on his knees. this couldn’t be happening. one of the reasons why you didn’t want to be with him was this, now what was he going to do? “but this is not the worst, hyung. people have leaked her information: her social networks, her family, her identity. everything is full of hatred.”

heeseung let out a sigh. he was shaking. he didn’t know how you were going to react, were you going to get away from him? were you going to cut with him? heeseung couldn’t stand losing you. You were the love of his life.

“i’m sorry, heeseung” jungwon said.

“don’t worry. i will fix that”

heeseung hung up the call and ran his hand over his face, worried. not only had their relationship been discovered, your personal information had been leaked. this was going to affect you in your life itself. he didn’t know what to do.

he didn’t know what to do to avoid this, he had no power over this situation.

heeseung cursed himself for not having been more careful, he knew they could find out. but when you told him to go for a walk at night, with your eyes full of love, he couldn’t help but accept.

he got up from the table and took a deep breath, he couldn’t convey his anxiety to you. as he left the room, he looked at you eating an apple while you saw the cookies inside the oven.

he approached you and grabbed you by the waist to kiss you on the forehead.

“we need to talk”

you looked at him with a frown, thousands of situations began to appear in your head, but not the real one.

“did something happen in the company, with the members? is your mom okay?”

your boyfriend smiled when he heard you and put his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the living room. you didn’t receive an answer from him, which made you more anxious.

heeseung sat next to you and took your hand to start caressing it. his heart was about to come out of his chest, he didn’t know how your reaction was going to be.

“sweetie” he whispered sadly. “being an idol is very difficult, you have no life, no privacy. your life is managed both by the company and by the fans. the only thing that has kept me in this industry has been my members and my dreams. despite this, my life since i was an idol began to get worse, i couldn’t sleep, i didn’t have a motivation: until I met you. my life began to make sense since I saw you, i began to improve both my professional and personal life, i could sleep properly. all because i knew you”

you narrowed your eyes. you didn’t know where he wanted to go. did he want to break it with you?

“the day we became a couple i promised you that i was going to protect you, that our relationship was not going to be relieved.” heeseung sighed seriously. “until today i did it, and i’m very sorry. i couldn’t help it”

“w-what, heeseung? what are you talking about?”

“our relationship has been relieved, y/n”

you frowned when you heard him, waiting for him to laugh like one of his thousands of jokes. that he hugged you while whispering to you that it was not true. however, you only received a couple of tears.

you took your phone from the table and turned it on. thousands of notifications. you went to twitter and you could see both the name and your boyfriend’s in trends.

this couldn’t be happening.

@/engene4life what would heeseung be with that girl? she’s very ugly for him. he deserves something better lol

@/heeseungbaaambi I think that girl wants to take advantage of him... clearly her family is low-income and heeseung only saw her for something else #HYBEWEWANTANSWER

@/baeen tf you care idols are humans too!

@/engphynen ican’t believe heeseung betrayed us like that? is he an idol????? he shouldn’t have a partner and even less with that whore. if he wants to continue with his career he should break up with that stupid bitch. i’m just saying

tears were running down your cheeks too quickly, thousands of tweets in hatred towards you and your partner. thousands of comments messing with your physique, edited photos of you…

“heeseung”

“darling, i will fix that, i promise”

fat, ugly, whore. those were the words you were seeing. was all that you?

heeseung snatched your phone and hid it in his pocket. he caressed your cheek while wiping your tears with his fingers.

you separated from him abruptly and dried your tears. your boyfriend looked at you with a frown, that was the reaction he feared the most.

“go”

“what?”

“go to hybe, heeseung. tell them to delete my photos, to demand those comments. i don’t know if i can continue our relationship if they don’t do nothing”

“what?” no, no, no. they will eliminate all their comments, y/n. you have to be strong, okay? this is a relationship of two, y/n. we’ll both get better together, yes?”

the next few weeks were horrible, you didn’t get out of bed and hopefully you saw the sun. all those comments had affected you in an insane way. you didn’t stop seeing him, you didn’t stop seeing yourself in the mirror. you didn’t stop judging yourself.

heeseung had accompanied you at all times, giving you strength and distracting you from the phone. the company had not supported him, that’s why the comments were getting bigger and bigger.

heeseung didn’t know what to do. for this very reason, he had decided to do everything himself.

you were lying in bed watching the comments until you found that.

@/loveengene wtfffff he is so inlove omg please let him be happy. love for both<3

@/fuckheeseung fuck him fuck enhypen i can’t stan a idol with gf fuck heeseung

@/enh11pen whoever doesn’t support heeseung is not a real engene

@/noviadejakey lo ridículas q son las engene no las aguanto. creéis q ibais a tener una oportunidad con heeseung? ridículas envidiosas

engene

Weeks ago, unfortunately, my private life has been exposed to the public. I am very sorry for the damage caused to my fans by this abrupt, unexpected news. I just want to tell you that my love for my fans will not change, not even for my memberss.

I met my girlfriend years ago. I started a relationship with her because she made me happy, because I kept talking about her. Today I love her, and I can’t see her sad. I can’t stand to see her lying in bed watching her hateful comments. I can’t see her suffer, for this very reason, I ask with all my heart that you stop harassing her, hating her and spreading her face on social networks. I ask you in another way. The people who will continue to say it, by my decision and without the company’s support, I will sue them. I don’t want to get to that point, that’s why I ask you to do it the first way. Thank you.

with love towards my engenes.

heeseung

제이

you didn’t even know how you had ended up in a relationship with jongseong.

you worked in the Prada store as a clerk for five years, at least. of all your three years, you met jongseong a year after working there.

the first time he went to the store, it was with his members. everything was full of fans outside, it seemed incredible to you, it was the first time you met a celebrity of that size. despite being impressed, you never noticed Jay in that first meeting.

on the contrary of you, you had captivated hongseong from the first moment he entered the store. seeing your smile and your elegance was something that did not happen unexpected to him. for this very reason, he had started to visit the store more often, at first it was once a month, then once every three weeks until he went every week.

at first it seemed strange to you to see him so often alone, but he had the perfect excuse. he was an ambassador and needed to have new clothes and accessories whenever he could.

but you could notice that he was lying when you saw how he tried to flirt with you.

the first time he asked you to go out you rejected him, how were you going to go out with an idol? that was forbidden for both you and him. but Jay didn’t give up. he had asked you exactly ten times to have a date, when he no longer had hope, in the tenth you had accepted.

you hadn’t had many dates, but it was definitely the best. he treated you like a princess and at the same time made you laugh, you didn’t regret having had that date with him.

you always talked to him about that, as you were both nervous and his stuttered. you remembered it as if it were yesterday, but four years had passed.

now you were in a luxurious hotel with your boyfriend. it was the week of your anniversary, and by your boyfriend’s occurrence, right now they were in Japan in one of the best hotels in the country. you didn’t like to spend too much, that’s why you had told him to go to a cheaper one, but according to him, you deserved that and more.

right now you were in the private pool of his room, sitting on his lap and your arms around his neck. while you felt his kisses on your neck.

“please”

you shook your head. “jay, our flight leaves in two hours, we have to leave.” you said, however, you didn’t move.

“the airport is twenty minutes away, princess”

“it will be quickly”

“jongseong���

“i need you, y/n”

you rolled your eyes when you heard him and got up from his lap. “i’ll go pack the suitcase, darling. because we haven’t done it either.” you gave him a goodbye kiss and caressed his cheek. “in our home i’ll reward you”

you left the pool and approached the room, where you began to organize your things. you couldn’t help but feel bad about the state you left your boyfriend, but you couldn’t miss that flight. tomorrow you had to work first thing in the morning, and you wanted to rest a little.

when you finished putting everything in the suitcase, you went to take a bath and now you were in the living room while you waited for your boyfriend to get dressed.

you frowned when you saw your boyfriend’s name trending on twitter. had something happened? you didn’t know, nor did you want to know. you didn’t get involved in knowing what was happening, you and your boyfriend agreed not to use your cell phones on this little vacation.

you got up from the couch when you felt your boyfriend’s presence behind you and approached him.

“go down, princess. i’ll take down the suitcases”

you nodded and now you were in the elevator going down to the ground floor of the hotel. I wish you had stayed longer. it was the perfect plan, you and him, with no one around and without having to work.

probably in a few years they can be like this.

when you got out of the elevator you frowned when you saw thousands of paparapzis outside the hotel. was there a celebrity? or a group? you didn’t know, you could only lower your cap to cover your face more.

you approached the exit and you couldn’t but frown when you saw how all of them approached you.

“y/n!”

“y/n come here!”

how did they know your names? why...?

“is it true that you’re dating the member of Enhypen, Jay?”

“what?” you murmured.

“there are photos of you two kissing!”

you could only turn around and enter the building, turning your back on them. they had found out, but, how? you had been cautious in everything. you had taken different flights, you had arrived at different times and you didn’t even leave the house often for fear of being caught.

but here they were.

you took your cell phone and entered twitter, seeing how your relationship had been confirmed by dispatch.

@/jaywife I think it’s unacceptable that he has a girlfriend, after all he chose to be an idol so he lost that right. we don’t accept that relationship #HYBEDOSOMETHING

@/enhypen4life So he took her to one of the best hotels in Japan? That has a name: that whore is taking advantage of Jay, I hope Hybe takes action against this

@/jungwon4jay I’m so disappointed:( I thought he was different

@/loveenhypen I’m very sorry but if he’s going to continue in that relationship, it’s best that he leaves the group

you looked up when you heard your name and saw your boyfriend approaching you, worried.

“what happened, love?”

“they know about us”

you saw how your boyfriend frowned.

“what?”

you picked up your cell phone and put it in his face, showing him all the comments and the publication of their relationship.

“they’re calling me a whore and taken advantage of, jongseong. i’m not like that. i’m not taking advantage of you, i love you.”

jay bent down and grabbed your hand, trying to comfort while watching all the comments.

“i know, princess, i know. they don’t know nothing about our relationships”

“they’re asking for you to leave the group if you’re still with me, Jay. i know how much you care about your members and your dreams, i can’t allow this from you, it’s better to separate, for the best of both of us.”

“princess, don’t say that” he said taking the tears off your cheeks. “we will both get over this, together. you can’t say that the best thing will be to separate so that i can fulfill my dreams when you are also part of my dreams. i want to marry you and have children with you. those are also my dreams.”

“jongseong…”

“please, come with me”

doubtful, you got up and he positioned you behind him while they went to the exit. when you left, you could hear all the paparapzis shouting your names, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“i want to apologize to my fans for causing a stir at this new news. i know they don’t deserve this because of the love they give both me and my members. for this very reason, I want to clarify the rumors. yes, i do have a girlfriend, and i’m completely in love with her. i can’t stand to see her sad for hate comments made by people full of hatred. for this very reason, i want to say that I will sue all those people who hurt both me and my partner. my partner is not a public face, he doesn’t have to endure all the hatred of social networks. engene, i love my partner, for this very reason i ask for understanding from you, my love for you will never change. please, leave her alone. thank you.”

제이크

you knew jake all your life, specifically from the age of eight.

the first time you saw him was at school, seeing a new child in the middle of the school year was something strange for you and your classmates, but that didn’t stop you from approaching him. the first time you spoke to him he ignored you, the second time he gave you an uncomfortable smile, the third time he was the one who spoke to you.

since that day, jake and your little had separated. as they grew up, the friendship was changing, and your feelings too. there began to be mischievous looks and smiles, you justified it with hormones, after all it was normal in adolescence.

you thought it was going to disappear over time, that is, jake was your best friend.

that’s what you thought, until you started to get jealous when he talked to other girls.

you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with him, that’s why you decided to get away. He was your best friend, you couldn’t ruin it because of a feeling that could disappear. you were going to do it, what you didn’t expect was for jake to declare his feelings to you. jake liked you, you were excited.

what you didn’t expect was that the next day he would disappear.

you didn’t hear anything from him for years, until you found out that he had debuted in a kpop group. you felt happy for him, you thought you were never going to see him again. until you played on an erasmus trip to South Korea.

you weren’t so unlucky, were you? well, you saw jake in a supermarket.

at first he didn’t recognize you, until he saw your discomfort. he approached you, with the opportunity to talk to you, what he didn’t expect is that you were going to run, but what you didn’t expect was that he would chase you.

that day he apologized to you thousands of times, in order to be able to return to his friendship as before. you didn’t know why, but you forgave him.

jake chased you so much that now you had a relationship with him.

now you were in front of the Han River in front of your boyfriend, kissing him around his face.

“i will miss you, jakey” you murmured between kisses.

when your erasmus year ended, you had to go back to australia, for this very reason, you had a long-distance relationship with Jake. but he paid for a flight once a month.

your boyfriend grabbed your hand and kissed it. “someday we will live together, and you will have a ring on your finger.”

“jake, you are a idol”

“i’m a idol and i’ll marry to you”

you rolled your eyes and kissed him on the lips. being in Australia without jake, without his hugs, without his kisses, without him. you didn’t know how you could stand it.

“we have to return to the hotel, baby. your flight it’s at 8 in the morning.”

you got up from the bench and they approached your boyfriend’s car, once started, jake had his hand on your thigh and your head was resting on the window with your eyes closed.

suddenly, you heard some of the songs from your boyfriend’s group.

“oh my god you are so egocentric” you murmured.

“it’s the radio, babe!” he said laughing.

“this song its ‘bite me’ by enhypen. one of the most famous groups both in Korea and internationally, but, some fans wonder, how is the personal life of the members of the famous band enhypen? today at midnight, images of the member jake with a girl holding hands have come out. is this the girlfriend of the famous enhypen member?”

your heart had stopped, your hands were sweating and your words didn’t come out of your mouth. but not only you, Jake had stopped the car and turned off the radio with anger.

@/jakeslave jake its mine bitch fuck you

@/loveenhypen i cannot fuckin believe it?? our jake with a gf? that’s so disapointed man

@/kpoplover lol that’s false jake will never do that. he will never date with a fuckin fat whore.

those were few messages of the hundreds that were reaching you. your cell phone was snatched by your boyfriend and your tears kissed by him.

“jakey, they are so mean to me”

“they are jelaous of you babe, don’t be bother of that people”

you let out a sob when you remembered all the comments you read. were you fat? were you insufficient for jake? those insecurities haunted you since you were a teenager, and seeing them again had affected you.

“okey babe, i will do something” he said taking out his phone and putting it horizontally. “hi engene, i’m sorry for the hours, but I couldn’t help but do a live when i saw the situation at this time.” jake took your hand and kissed it in front of the live. “guys, I’m in love. i’m dating the woman i’ve always dreamed of and with whom i’m going to marry, and I’m not going to allow some of you to hurt her. i know it’s sudden news and it can be harmful to some of you, but i can’t help it. that’s why i want to ask for your understanding and stop throwing hate to my girlfriend, please. i love you engene and good night.”

성훈

for some reason, you hated Sunghoon. He was so perfect, both in his grades and in his personal life. he was a fucking professional skater, he had his life solved.

you hated him because even though you treated him badly, he never did anything bad to you, on the contrary, he always treated you well, like the gentleman he was.

once school was over, you could only celebrate that you were not going to see him anymore. until you found out that the girl you were tutoring at her house was the sister of the fuckin park sunghoon.

thanks to this you found out that Sunghoon had debuted as an idol, leaving his artistic life behind. you couldn’t help but insult him from below, he could be in the Olympic Games winning medals, however, he decided to be under an enslaved system.

but you love yeji, his sister, you loved teaching her and you loved talking to her. but you had started to hate going to their houses because although sunghoon no longer lived there, apparently every time you went he was always sitting on the couch.

he was so arrogant.

you hated how he made fun of you, you hated how he looked at you gracefully. you hated that he always answered you coldly, you hated everything about him.

one day you had arrived at their houses angry, and of course, he was there. you had calmly tried to explain the math problems to his sister, but you had failed. for that very reason, you had gone to the kitchen to drink some water, and of course, sunghoon was after you.

that day he had asked you for explanations of your behavior, but you were so angry that you let him go of what you felt for him. you hated him, but at the same time you couldn’t stop your heart from jumping every time he looked at you, that you loved every time he paid attention to you. that the anger you felt was all his fault.

you thought he was going to get angry, or that he was going to kick you out of the house, but he just said:

“you are so pretty when you’re mad”

from that day, your relationship with him began, and you didn’t regret it.

but there was a problem, sunghoon was an idol. and your relationship discovered.

@/sunghoonwife sunghoon is literally a princes and he is dating with that… woman?

@/lovenhypen i expected somebody better than her lmao she is so ugly

@/kpopinformation i have nothing to say…

today was supposed to be a nice day, you were going to go to your boyfriend’s concert in the United States, however, everything exploded at midnight.

and those comments were affecting you more than they should.

you were looking at yourself in the mirror. they were right, you didn’t deserve to be with someone like him, you didn’t deserve Sunghoon. he deserved a prettier and more charming woman.

you heard how the door opened and you saw through the mirror as your boyfriend approached you and hugged you from behind.

“sunghoon, am i ugly?”

“what? no, sweetie, don’t look at those comments”

“but they all say the same”

“you are the most beautiful woman that i see. you are so beautiful that I still can’t believe you’re mine, you’re so beautiful that I don’t deserve you. you’re mine and I’m yours. none of those comments will make your beauty disappear.”

“oh sunghoon” you said hugging him and resting your head on his shoulder. “i’m so sorry for not being able to go to your concert”

“don’t worry, baby. it’s not your fault”

after several words of comfort, sunghoon had left and now you were lying in the hotel room wrapped up from above. while on your cell phone you were watching a broadcast of your boyfriend’s group concert.

you wanted so much to go to that concert, and you felt so disappointed for not being able to go.

you were in the part where everyone dedicated words to their fans, and after so much intrigue, it was your boyfriend’s turn.

“engene, thank you very much for coming to today’s concert, i feel honored that after everything that has happened you still decide to come to us. last night’s news may disconcert you, but, in fact, i know that some people were bothered by the news, but i really love my girlfriend very much. i love her in a way that i have never felt in my life, she is the love of my life. i don’t like to see her suffer, please, i ask you respect for my privacy as well as hers. stop commenting bad comments towards her. please send us love, both to her and my members.”

[rose24207]

can I get one with prompts 6,8 and 18 together

Love isn’t always enough

Summary: Your love with Lando falls apart as unresolved pain drives you both away from each other.

Genre: angst, sad

Lando x reader

6. "I begged you to stay... and you still walked away." 8. "You say you love me, but love shouldn't feel like this." 18. "I told you not to touch it, and what did you do? You touched it!"

TW: break up, hurt no comfort

A/N: I’m sorry I was so inactive for a while. Needed to get rid of the author curse for a few days but I’m back!

Masterlist pt.2

The room was silent, save for the muffled sound of Lando’s erratic breathing. He stood by the door, his hand gripping the edge of the frame as if the weight of the moment was too much for him to carry. His chest rose and fell, anger and sadness battling for control over his emotions. You were seated on the edge of the bed, your hands tightly clasped together in your lap, refusing to meet his gaze.

“I begged you to stay,” Lando said, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He took a step forward, and you flinched as if the distance between you didn’t already feel like miles. “I begged you not to leave, and you still walked away.”

Your head shot up at his words, eyes blazing with the same fire that had ignited every fight between you for the past month. “I walked away because I had no choice, Lando!”

His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “No choice?” he repeated, his tone sharper than he intended. “You say you love me, but love shouldn’t feel like this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his hand trembling. “It shouldn’t feel like I’m suffocating, like I’m never enough for you!”

“That’s not fair.” Your voice wavered, the fight leaving you as quickly as it had come. “You’re twisting everything. You’re acting like this is all on me, like I’m the villain here, but you—”

“But I what?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “What have I done that’s so terrible? All I’ve ever wanted was for us to work, for us to fix whatever this is.” He gestured wildly again. “But you don’t want that, do you?”

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to speak. “I wanted us to work too, Lando. But every time I try, you shut me out. You bury yourself in your career, in your friends, in everything but me. And then you come back, expecting me to pick up the pieces.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. You had hit a nerve, and you both knew it.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t keep holding on when it feels like I’m the only one trying.”

Lando’s jaw clenched, his own eyes glassy. He hated seeing you cry, hated knowing he was the reason for your pain. But his frustration was boiling over, and he couldn’t stop the words that spilled from his lips.

“If you can’t do this anymore, then why are you still here?”

The question hung in the air like a dagger poised to strike. You recoiled as if he had physically hit you.

“Is that what you want?” you asked, your voice trembling. “For me to leave?”

Lando ran a hand through his curls, tugging at the roots in exasperation. “No! Of course not. But what am I supposed to do when you act like this? When you shut me out, when you won’t even try to see my side of things?”

“You don’t get it, Lando,” you said, your voice breaking. “You never have. And I’m starting to think you never will.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Lando stared at you, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and disbelief.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I told you not to touch it, and what did you do? You touched it.”

You frowned, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about us,” he said, his tone heavy with despair. “About this relationship. I told you from the beginning that I was scared, that I didn’t know if I could do this—if I could give you everything you deserved. But you... you insisted. You said we could make it work, that I just needed to trust you.”

“And I did trust you,” you said, your voice rising again. “I trusted you with my heart, Lando. But you didn’t trust me with yours.”

His face crumpled, and for the first time, you saw just how broken he was. “I wanted to,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “God, I wanted to. But every time I got close, every time I thought I could let you in, something stopped me. And now... now I’ve ruined everything.”

You stood up, your legs shaking beneath you. “You didn’t ruin everything, Lando. We both did. But I can’t keep doing this—this cycle of fighting and making up and pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

“So what?” he asked, desperation creeping into his voice. “You’re just going to leave? Throw everything away like it meant nothing?”

“It did mean something,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “It meant everything. But sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He staggered back, his hands gripping the doorframe for support.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Don’t go.”

You looked at him, your heart shattering into a million pieces. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice trembling. “But I have to.”

With that, you turned and walked out the door, leaving Lando alone in the silence.

For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the spot where you had been. Then, as the reality of your departure sank in, he collapsed onto the floor, his sobs echoing through the empty room.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom, @ernegren, @esposamultifandom, @darleneslane

[saebyeokbliss]

JUST MEET ME AT THE APT.— K. SAE-BYEOK

CHAPTER NINE

synopsis: managing a rising rock band is already chaotic enough, but when you're stuck touring with four reckless musicians, things get even messier. between late-night facetime calls, teasing that feels a little too knowing, and a certain guitarist who might just be your biggest problem, keeping things professional is getting harder by the second. but hey, no one said the music industry was easy.

warnings: mutual pining, intense eye contact, teasing that borders on flirting (or maybe it is flirting), friends who refuse to mind their business, secondhand embarrassment, slow burn that burns, emotional whiplash, online scandals

playlist: spotify

It started with a tweet.

A blurry, low-quality video posted by some fan who had managed to sneak backstage. The caption was cryptic but damning:

"WTF did Jisoo do to make Kang Sae-Byeok this mad???"

And underneath it—

A video of Sae-Byeok pinning Jisoo against the wall.

The audio was grainy, muffled by the distance and the hum of post-show chaos, but some words were crystal-clear.

"I don’t want to see you near her or the girls ever again."

"You don’t get to come in here and make her feel like nothing."

The internet exploded.

At first, there was confusion. Speculation. Wild theories about why HOT DIVISION’s lead guitarist was this close to throwing hands with an influencer-turned-socialite like Jisoo.

Then came the sides.

Some people immediately took Sae-Byeok’s, praising her for standing up for whoever she was talking about. Others rushed to defend Jisoo, twisting the narrative into something uglier—something about how aggressive Sae-Byeok had looked, how scary her temper seemed, how it was unprofessional for an artist of her status to act like that.

And then, of course, the worst theory took hold.

That it was about you.

Screenshots of old photos resurfaced—pictures of you with the band, of you standing next to Sae-Byeok at award shows, of you in the background of HOT DIVISION’s biggest moments. Someone even found a picture from that night, showing you leaving the backstage area just moments before the video took place.

And suddenly, you weren’t just the band’s manager anymore.

You were the reason for the fight.

The narrative twisted: Sae-Byeok was in love with you. Jisoo had done something to you. You were caught in the middle of some messy, behind-the-scenes drama that no one was supposed to know about.

It spiraled fast.

By the next morning, articles were being written. Think pieces dissecting Sae-Byeok’s reputation, questioning her professionalism, debating whether or not HOT DIVISION’s label would make a statement.

And through it all—

You stayed quiet.

Because you knew exactly how this worked.

Scandals like this didn’t just pass. They grew until someone stopped them.

And that someone had to be you.

You found Jisoo before anyone else did.

She had been avoiding the internet, dodging calls, probably waiting for it all to blow over before she made her next move. But you weren’t going to give her that luxury.

You cornered her in the back of a café, where she had been sipping an overpriced latte like her name wasn’t being dragged online.

She barely had time to react before you sat down across from her, fixing her with a look that made it clear you weren’t here to play games.

"Fix it," you said, voice steady.

Jisoo blinked. "Excuse me?"

You leaned forward. "You fix it. You clear it up. You tell everyone exactly what the fuck happened before this gets worse."

She scoffed, setting her cup down. "I don’t owe anyone anything."

Your patience snapped. "Are you serious? You owe Sae-Byeok everything right now. Because you’re sitting here, drinking your stupid fucking latte, while she’s getting torn apart for something that wasn’t even her fault."

Jisoo frowned, finally looking uncomfortable. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen."

"But it did," you said sharply. "And I’m not letting you be the coward who lets her take the fall for it."

A beat of silence.

Jisoo looked away, jaw tightening. "I didn’t think she actually cared that much."

You exhaled through your nose, forcing yourself to stay calm. "That’s the problem. You never thought about what you were doing. You never thought about how it made me feel—how it made her feel."

She swallowed. "I just… I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong."

You shook your head. "Exactly."

Jisoo sighed, rubbing a hand down her face. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Tell the fucking truth," you said. "Make a statement. A video. A post. I don’t care. Just fix it."

She hesitated.

Then, finally, she pulled out her phone.

And for the first time since this entire mess started—

She actually did something right.

Jisoo’s video went up within the hour.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t some grand, emotional apology.

But it was enough.

She admitted that she had been careless, that she hadn’t realized how much she was excluding you, that she had walked into HOT DIVISION’s space without thinking about how it might have made you feel.

And most importantly—

She cleared Sae-Byeok’s name.

She explained that the argument wasn’t about anything romantic, that there was no secret drama or jealousy, that Sae-Byeok had only been angry because she had stood up for you.

The backlash didn’t disappear overnight. But it shifted.

Now, instead of attacking Sae-Byeok, people were applauding her.

And you— You finally let yourself breathe. But the damage had already been done.

And you weren’t sure if things could ever go back to the way they were before.

Dinner was quieter than usual.

Not because there was tension—no, after everything that had happened, the tension had finally cracked, leaving something raw and unspoken between all of you.

The girls had chosen a small restaurant, tucked away from prying eyes and the chaos of the internet, somewhere they could just be without worrying about cameras or fans or another scandal brewing.

And tonight, for the first time in a long time, they weren’t just HOT DIVISION.

They were just friends trying to make things right.

Ji-Yeong was the first to break the silence, setting her chopsticks down. "Alright, let’s just say it."

Se-Mi exhaled. "Yeah, we fucked up."

No-Eul nodded. "Big time."

Sae-Byeok, sitting across from you, was unusually quiet, arms crossed, her gaze flickering between you and the others.

Ji-Yeong leaned forward. "Look, we got caught up in our own shit, and we didn’t notice how much we were leaving you out. That’s on us. Completely on us."

Se-Mi sighed. "We should’ve realized sooner. We should’ve—" She hesitated, then met your eyes. "We should’ve been better friends to you."

You swallowed, feeling the weight of their words, the sincerity behind them.

And then No-Eul, ever direct, said, "We’re sorry."

Your chest tightened, but this time, it wasn’t from pain.

It was relief.

You let out a small, shaky breath, nodding. "Thank you."

Ji-Yeong gave you a hesitant smile. "Does this mean you forgive us?"

You huffed a quiet laugh. "I mean… yeah. But you guys owe me. Big time."

Se-Mi grinned. "Obviously. We’ll buy you so much coffee to make up for it."

No-Eul smirked. "Or we could just kick Jisoo’s ass next time we see her."

That made you laugh—really laugh, for the first time in days.

And just like that, things started to feel okay again.

After dinner, you stepped outside for some air.

The night was cool, the city lights flickering in the distance, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you actually felt lighter.

But you weren’t alone for long.

No-Eul appeared beside you, hands in her jacket pockets, her usual calm, unreadable expression on her face.

"You doing okay?" she asked, her voice softer than usual.

You hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Better than before."

No-Eul tilted her head, studying you in that way she always did—like she could see right through you. "You sure?"

You sighed, leaning against the railing. "I mean… I still feel kinda stupid for letting it get to me so much."

No-Eul frowned. "Why?"

You shrugged. "Because it’s not like they meant to hurt me. And I knew that. But it still—" You exhaled. "It still sucked."

No-Eul was quiet for a moment, then said, "You don’t have to justify feeling hurt."

You glanced at her, surprised.

She met your gaze, something unreadable in her eyes. "You deserved better from us. And you were right to be upset."

The way she said it—so steady, so certain—made warmth bloom in your chest.

You smiled, small but genuine. "Thanks, No-Eul."

She nodded, her gaze lingering on you.

And for a moment—just a moment—something shifted.

The space between you felt smaller.

The air heavier.

Her eyes flickered to your lips, just for a second, and you felt your breath catch.

Was she—?

Were you—?

Before anything could happen, a voice cut through the air.

"Time to go," Sae-Byeok’s voice rang out, firm but unreadable.

You both jolted slightly, stepping back as if the moment had never happened.

When you turned to look at her, Sae-Byeok’s face was blank, but her eyes—her eyes—were sharp, flickering between you and No-Eul with something you couldn’t quite place.

You cleared your throat. "Right. Yeah. Let’s go."

No-Eul didn’t say anything—just shoved her hands back into her pockets and followed after you.

And as you walked ahead, you could feel Sae-Byeok’s gaze lingering on you.

Like she had seen everything.

Like she was thinking about something.

But she didn’t say a word.

Not yet.

taglist: @everly-summers-solace @knfthxv @madebysae @knfthxv @katieschry1 @imlackingsleep @lyzem @stellssxo @wiltingconquest @peelover25@monroesturnns @laurenkens @yenyu1s @idontliketoread2137 @bitchybananaflower @lyuuw