#I threw the design together myself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarluna · 3 months ago

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Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 2 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

ACT II.

The office was a battlefield, and I was the only one unarmed.

Every day felt like a fresh assault. Tina’s barbs were sharper, her voice dripping with fake sympathy as she leaned over my desk. “Oh, Y/N, are you sure you’re comfortable in that chair? It looks like it’s a little… snug.”

I tried to ignore her, my cheeks burning as I focused on the mock-up on my screen. She’d been relentless all week, and every comment felt like a jab to my already low self-esteem. I was keeping quiet, minding my own business but the bullying never seemed to stop. I wanted to be the bigger person, the mature person who doesn't take things to heart. And it seemed like it from outside, but from the inside I was suffering.

Across the room, Yoongi wasn’t much better. His criticisms were less direct, but no less cutting. He had a way of making me feel incompetent without ever raising his voice. “Y/N, these designs lack creativity,” he’d say, his tone calm but loaded with judgment. “Maybe it’s time you considered a role that’s more… fitting for your skill set. Like data entry.”

I bit my lip, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not in front of them.

Jungkook, however, was the worst of all. Every glance he threw my way felt like a judgment, every word like a blow.

“You’re moving too slow,” he snapped one afternoon, slamming a stack of papers onto my desk, leaning over to my face whilst his dark eyes burned into my soul. “Do you even understand deadlines? Or is thinking that fast too much for you?”

The team laughed quietly, but the sound roared in my ears. I felt my hands tremble. I wanted to open my mouth, I wanted to shout and say that I quit this god forsaken place, but I couldn't. Call me weak, call me pushover or whatever, but this job was important to me and I wanted to keep proving my worth.

By the end of the day, I was drained of course. My confidence was in shreds, my energy spent. But the worst moments came when I was alone at home, sitting in my small one-bedroom flat with my dog curled up at my feet and tears streaming down my face.

That evening, I sat at the kitchen table, staring at a cold cup of tea in my hands. Hades, my dog, whimpered, sensing my distress, and I reached down to stroke his soft fur.

“I’m fine,” I whispered in a shaky voice, wiping my tears away. It has been like this for weeks. I was at work, bullied, mocked at, then came home and cried my eyes out the entire evening. And then when I opened my eyes in the next morning, the cycle repeated itself.

I thought of my parents, so far away and unaware of the chaos in my life. I couldn’t burden them with this. I thought of my brother in prison, the shame my family carried, and the weight of holding everything together by myself.

And yet, I knew I couldn’t give up. If I lost this job, I’d lose everything. My apartment, my independence, my sense of self. I had to keep going, no matter how much it hurt.

The next morning, I dragged myself into the office, my body heavy with exhaustion and my eyes burning from all the crying and lack of sleep.

The morning passed in a blur of emails, revisions, and pointed comments from Yoongi and Tina which I ignored, I was too lost in thoughts to even listen to them anymore. By lunchtime, my head was pounding, but I pushed through, forcing myself to finish the latest round of edits.

“You look terrible,” Tina said as she passed my desk, her voice dripping with mocking concern. “Maybe you should take a break. But then again, even when you take a break you'd do a shitty job afterward yet again.”

I ignored her, focusing on the screen in front of me. My surroundings were like a blurr. Somewhat, I lost sense of my emotions the moment I focused on my design as this was the only thing helping me out in this moment.

By the end of the day, my vision was blurring. My body felt like it was on autopilot, moving through tasks without really comprehending what I was doing. Of course I did fuck up a few times, stumbling in my tasks and that did not go unnoticed by my boss.

“Y/N, are you listening?” Jungkook’s voice snapped me out of my daze.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring at my screen without hearing a word of the conversation happening around me.

“Yeah. . . I am listening," I lied lowly, refusing to meet his eyes.

I could practically hear him scoff and probably roll his eyes. “You’re useless. Why are you even here?”

The words hit me like a slap, but I couldn’t muster the strength to respond.

It happened that evening at the end of my workday, just as I was finishing the last of my assignments. I stood up from my desk, the world tilting around me and my legs went weak. My vision blurred, and before I could catch myself, everything went black.

When I came to my senses, I was lying on the floor, a small crowd gathered around me. Rya’s worried face was the first thing I saw, her hands gently patting my cheeks.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with panic. "Should we call an ambulance?"

I groaned, my body aching as I tried to sit up. “N-no, i-it's fine. What happened?” I was pulled up gently by Rya as the other colleagues slowly walked away because they saw Rya's murderous glance. This girl was doing everything to protect me and she had no clue how grateful and appreciative I was to her for that.

“You fainted,” Rya said, helping me up. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.” I was also not eating at all, because their jokes about how I looked finally had gotten to me.

Hoseok appeared, holding a bottle of water. “You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said gently. “This job isn’t worth destroying your health over.”

I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I forced them back, nodding weakly. “I’m fine,” I said, though my voice shook. “I’ll be fine.” I saw Hoseok and Rya look at each other and then back at me. From the corner of my eye I saw Tina stand not too far away, arms crossed against her chest. She huffed and headed down the hallway. This was a lost cause, wasn't it? Working at such a big company, getting paid well, just to be treated like trash...

Deep down, I knew that me saying I was fine was far from the truth. Something had to change soon—because if it didn’t, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

I didn’t expect the knock on my door that Saturday morning. Weekends were my time to recharge, to hide from the world and the constant judgment I faced at work. I would spend the weekends curled in bed, eating my emotions away and watching crime documentaries while Hades was curled by my side. But when I opened the door and saw whoever was standing there, a small smile on his face and a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, my heart skipped a beat.

“Taehyung?” I blinked, caught off guard by the sight of my childhood best friend. It had been months since we’d last seen each other, though we’d kept in touch through our parents.

“Surprise,” he said warmly, holding out the flowers. “Thought I’d stop by and say hello. You’re not busy, are you?”

I shook my head, taking the flowers with a smile. “Not at all. Come in!”

He stepped inside, taking in the small space. Hades barked excitedly at the newcomer, running in circles around Taehyung’s legs.

“Hades,” I said with a laugh, scooping up my little dog. “Be nice. This is Taehyung.”

Taehyung grinned, scratching behind Hades’ ears. “You have a dog now? I should’ve brought treats.” "It's okay, he shouldn't eat much or else he'd become pudgy." "But pudgy is cute." he muttered and I giggled. His aura and presense somehow made me feel safe and at ease. I forgot how much of a kind hearted man Tae was. And here he was, dressed casually, hair a cute mess and a lazy smile gracing his features.

We spent a few minutes catching up before Taehyung suggested we take a walk. “It’s been ages since we’ve just hung out,” he said. “Let’s go to the park. Get some fresh air.”

The park was peaceful, the late morning sun casting a golden glow over the trees. We walked along the path, Hades trotting happily beside us on his leash. The park was not filled with many people this early in the morning and I was grateful for that. Somehow a lot of people made me anxious.

“So,” Taehyung said, breaking the comfortable silence, “how’s life in the big city? Still doing graphic design?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt. “It’s… a lot. But I’m managing.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Managing, huh? That doesn’t sound like the Y/N I know. You used to dream big. What happened to that spark of yours?”

I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Life happened, I guess.”

Taehyung frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he changed the subject. “Have you heard from your parents recently? My mom mentioned they were planning to visit soon.”

I nodded. “We talk every week. They’re good, keeping busy.”

“And your brother?”

I hesitated, the mention of my brother a sensitive topic, of course. I didn't talk to anyone about him and my parents seemed to be good at avoiding the topic for my own brother as well. They acted as if he was a shame to our family. “He’s… okay. Still in prison, but we’re hopeful he’ll be out sooner than expected. He’s trying to stay positive.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right? My firm handles cases like his all the time.” Taehyung was a successful lawyer here, he even owned his own law firm and I was so happy for him. Ever since he was a child he was determined and a smooth talker, convincing people with ease. He was also smart and selfless which was one of the things I liked about him.

I smiled, touched by his offer. “Thanks, Tae. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As we continued walking, Taehyung talked about his work and how many weird cases he has been working on recently.

“I still can’t believe you run your own firm,” I said, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

He laughed. “It’s anything but easy, trust me. But I love what I do. And it doesn’t hurt that my parents are proud of me for once.”

“They’ve always been proud of you,” I said, nudging him playfully. “You’re their golden child.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone teasing. “But I’ve always cared more about what you thought of me.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. Before I could respond, Hades barked, pulling at the leash.

I glanced up to see what had caught his attention—and froze.

My boss was leaning against a dark Mercedez Benz and a cigarette dangled between his lips. He looked so casual. And also there was a man who had his back on me but it did not take me long to realize this was Yoongi. I was staring for too long. Jungkook's gaze flickered on me and I saw a glint of surprise which made Yoongi turn around as well. My heart stopped.

For a moment, neither of us moved. It was as if the world had stopped, the air thick with tension.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s voice broke the spell, and I tore my gaze away from Jungkook, my heart pounding.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “What were you saying?”

Taehyung followed my gaze, his brow furrowing as he took in both men's figures. “Is that Jeon Jungkook?” he asked surprised.

I shook my head, the knot in my stomach tightening. “Y-yeah. ” I mumbled and Tae hummed. "So he is your boss?" I nodded. "Does he give you a hard time? I can give him a piece of my mind." I could hear the annoyance on Taehyung's voice as he spoke about Jungkook. I shook my head and my eyes shifted back on Tae. "It's fine.Let's just go."

Taehyung didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, steering the conversation back to lighter topics as we slowly walked away.

But even as we continued walking, laughing and reminiscing, I couldn’t shake the image of Jungkook’s piercing gaze—or the way it had made me feel like he could see right through me.

Monday arrived far too quickly, and as I walked into the office, I could already feel the tension in the air. The weekend spent with Taehyung had been a rare reprieve, a reminder of the warmth of genuine friendship. But as soon as I entered the workspace, the cruel reality of my job hit me like a cold slap.

The whispers started almost immediately.

“Did you see her at the park?” Tina’s voice carried from the nearby break area, intentionally loud enough for me to hear.

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi drawled, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “Who’d she pay to walk beside her like that?”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and I kept my eyes fixed on my desk, willing myself to ignore them.

“Maybe he’s her personal trainer,” Tina continued with a sneer. “Though, let’s be honest, she doesn’t seem like the type who actually listens to advice.”

I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles turning white as I fought to keep my composure.

Jungkook’s voice joined the fray, sharp and mocking. “He probably felt bad for her. Sympathy date, maybe.”

Laughter erupted around me, the sound cutting deeper than I cared to admit.

“Morning, Y/N!” Tina’s fake tone made my stomach churn as she approached my desk, her heels clicking against the floor. “Had a good weekend? You seemed… busy.”

I forced a smile, keeping my voice even. “It was fine, thanks.”

Her eyes sparkled with faux curiosity. “Oh, come on, you can tell us. Who was that guy? Friend? Cousin? You’re not seriously trying to say he’s your boyfriend, are you?”

The heat rose to my cheeks, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Just an old friend.”

Tina’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, that makes sense. Because, you know, someone like him... with someone like you? Not exactly believable.”

The laughter started up again, and I clenched my fists under the desk, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping back. I shot her a glare however and she did see it. That errupted a chuckle from her and she walked away with graceful steps, shaking her hips because she knew Jungkook was there. Pathetic bitch.

The hours dragged on, each task feeling heavier under the weight of the relentless mockery. By lunchtime, I felt like I was suffocating, the walls of the office closing in around me. I haven't felt like this since I was in damn high school.

“Y/N, you okay?” Rya’s voice was a lifeline, her genuine concern cutting through the fog of humiliation.

I glanced up to see her and Hoseok standing by my desk, their expressions sympathetic.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” Hoseok suggested. “Get out of here for a bit.”

I hesitated, but the idea of escaping the toxic atmosphere, even for a little while, was too tempting to pass up.

As we sat in a small café a few blocks away, I felt the tension slowly begin to ease. The warm, comforting smells of coffee and pastries wrapped around me like a blanket, and for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe again.

“They’re absolute trash,” Rya said bluntly, stirring her latte. “Tina, Yoongi, Jungkook—all of them.”

Hoseok nodded, his eyes serious. “You’re better than all of them combined, Y/N.”

I shrugged, poking at my sandwich with a fork. “It’s just... exhausting. I try to ignore them, but it’s like they go out of their way to tear me down.”

“They’re jealous,” Rya said firmly. “That’s all it is. You have talent, Y/N. They see that, and it scares them.”

I gave her a doubtful look. “They don’t seem scared to me.”

“Well, screw them,” Hoseok said, his tone unusually sharp. “You’ve got people who believe in you, Y/N.” I wish I could believe his words, but deep down I didn't. I was too absorbed in my inner pain to even think someone was believing in me. I wasn't believing in myself in the first place.

As I stepped through the doors, Yoongi’s voice rang out, loud and mocking.

“Back from lunch with your friends?” he said, smirking as he leaned against his desk arms crossed against his chest.

The others laughed, their eyes gleaming with amusement as they watched me walk past.

I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him. But inside, I was crumbling, each cruel word chipping away at the walls I’d built to protect myself.

How much longer could I keep this up? How much more could I take before I broke completely?The answer lingered in the back of my mind, terrifying and inevitable.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of barely contained emotions. I kept my head down, focusing on the screen in front of me, even as whispers and snickers floated through the air like poison. Even my team was just as disgusting except Hoseok and Rya. What was wrong with adults acting like children?

By the time 4 PM rolled around, I was hanging on by a thread. But of course, Tina wasn’t about to let me leave without one final jab.

She sauntered over to my desk, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to my inevitable implosion. Today she wore a bright blue pencil skirt, a white blouse that had too much buttons popped off. I could see her cleveage clearly. This was definitely not job appropriate but I knew who she was doing this for.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your designs. They’re… fine, I guess. For someone who clearly hasn’t seen the inside of a fashion magazine in, what, years?”

Her laugh was joined by Yoongi’s low chuckle from across the room, and my chest tightened.

“Not everyone can have an eye for detail like I do,” Tina continued, her voice rising so the whole office could hear. “But don’t worry. Maybe if you spent less time stuffing your face with food and more time paying attention to trends, you might actually produce something worth presenting to a client.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. My hands trembled, my nails digging into the edge of my desk.

“Enough,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the rage bubbling up from deep inside of me. It was getting hard to control myself at this point. All these weeks of bullying and me being silent had to come to an end.

“What was that?” Tina leaned closer, a smug smile tugging at her lips.

“I said enough!” I stood up so quickly my chair toppled over, the loud clatter startling everyone. Tina's expression changed, I could see her blue eyes grow wide as she took a slight step back and her hands fell down her sides.

Tina blinked, clearly not expecting a reaction from me. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” I said, my voice shaking but growing stronger with every word. “I’ve had it with your constant shitty bullying. Every day, you find some new way to tear me down, and for what? To make yourself feel better? To prove you’re better than me?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, please. Don’t be so dramatic.” she tried to look disinterested but I could see the surprise in her eyes from my outburst. Somehow I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore. The words kept spilling out.

“Dramatic?” I laughed bitterly. “You’ve been treating me like garbage since the day I got here. Mocking my work, my weight, the way I dress, the way I look. And for what? Because you’re insecure? Because you can’t stand the idea of someone else succeeding? Someone else that is plain looking? Or should I say, someone that is different looking?”

The color drained from her face, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“And let’s not even start on the way you constantly throw yourself at the boss, who mind you, is just as shitty as you are.” I added, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “The way you bat your lashes, lean into him, practically cling to his arm whenever he’s in the room... everyone sees it, Jungkook especially. And guess what, he is not interested. Pathetic, isn't it?” I took a step toward her. She was taller than me wearing those heels, but I didn't gave a fuck. I was full with rage.

Gasps rippled through the office, and Tina’s cheeks turned crimson. From the corner of my eyes I could see Yoongi lean back on his chair and stare at us in pure silence.

“You want to act like you’re above me, Tina? Fine. But don’t think for a second we don’t all see how desperate you are to get his attention—and how he couldn’t care less. And you trying to bring me down by being a shitty Direct Manager does nothing to make the boss notice you.”

Her jaw dropped, her confidence visibly crumbling. “You—”

“What?” I snapped, cutting her off. “You don’t like hearing the truth? He doesn’t want you. He never will. So maybe, instead of tearing other people down to make yourself feel important, you should take a good, long look in the mirror.”

The room was deathly quiet, every pair of eyes glued to the unfolding scene.

“I-I will have you fired for this!" she stuttered, her face red with embarrassment.

I stared at her, my chest heaving, and for the first time, I saw her for what she really was: small, scared, and desperately clinging to the illusion of power.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady. “Do it, maybe I will finally get the mental break I deserve.”

Without another word, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the office, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the silence.

I didn’t make it far before the tears started falling. I ducked into the stairwell, sinking onto the cold concrete steps as the weight of the confrontation hit me. My shoulders shook with sobs, the release of weeks—months—of pent-up frustration and pain. Fucking hell, was I going to get fired for this? Fuck fuck fuck.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Rya standing there, her expression a mix of concern and pride.

“That was epic,” she said, sitting down beside me.

I laughed weakly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “It didn’t feel epic. It felt terrifying.”

“Well, it needed to be said,” she said firmly. “And you said it. You stood up for yourself, Y/N. That takes a lot of guts.”

I nodded, my tears slowing as her words sank in. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a spark of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: pride.

“Thanks, Rya,” I said softly.

She smiled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. And just so you know, you’re not alone in this. We’ve got your back. And don't worry about getting fired, Jungkook can't afford to look for another candidate right now besides, deep down he knows you are brilliant at what you do and that you are a hard worker.”

Her words were like a balm to my wounded spirit, and as I sat there with her, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I was stronger than I thought.

The office was buzzing with murmurs in the aftermath of my confrontation with Tina, but I tried to focus on my work. My chest was still tight, my emotions raw, but I felt an odd sense of relief. Standing up for myself had been terrifying, yet it also felt strangely empowering.

I barely had time to process the relief before a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Y/N,” Jungkook called from the doorway of his office, his tone clipped. “My office. Now.”

Every pair of eyes in the room shot to me, their gazes heavy with curiosity and judgment. My stomach sank, but I refused to let the anxiety show. With my head held high, I pushed back from my desk and walked toward him, determined not to let him intimidate me anymore.

The door clicked shut behind me, and the room suddenly felt much smaller. Jungkook stood by his desk, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed forearms, his dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. I saw him wearing a dark suit. However, his jacket was gone and he had his shirt on, black slacks and his tattoos complimented him perfectly. If he wasn't such an ass, I'd have been secretly attracted to him.

“What’s this I hear about you causing a scene?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He was definitely annoyed with me.

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “You mean standing up for myself? Sorry if that doesn’t fit your idea of acceptable behavior.”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, the space between us shrinking. “This isn’t about acceptable behavior. It’s about keeping your head down and doing your job without making a spectacle of yourself.”

A laugh escaped me, bitter and unrestrained. “Oh, you mean like the way you and your little entourage make a spectacle out of humiliating me every chance you get?”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted, charged with something electric and unspoken.

“Careful, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. And his cologne intoxicated me. “And you know what? I don’t care anymore. I’ve had enough of your condescending remarks, your bullying, and your constant need to remind me that I don’t fit into your little world.”

His gaze flicked to my lips, just for a second, but it was enough to make my heart race.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice rough."I have done no such thing. It was to push you so you can get better."

“Are you kidding me?!” I shot back, my voice trembling with anger. “I see the way you look at me, Jungkook. The way you go out of your way to make my life miserable. What is it? Does it make you feel powerful? Or are you just trying to cover up whatever it is you’re really feeling?”

His hand flexed at his side, and for a moment, I thought he might reach for me. But instead, he took a step back, his expression unreadable.

“You’re crossing a line,” he said, his voice tight.

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m finally drawing one.”

The room was silent except for the sound of my own breathing, ragged and uneven. I could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and unrelenting, but I refused to back down.

“Is that all, Mr. Jeon?” I asked, my voice cold and formal.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Get out.”

I turned on my heel and walked out of the office, my heart pounding in my chest. As the door closed behind me, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of triumph and dread.

Whatever was brewing between Jungkook and me, it was far from over. And something told me it was only going to get more complicated.

I left Jungkook’s office with my heart pounding and my hands trembling. I didn’t know if I felt victorious or terrified, but I couldn’t afford to overanalyze it right now. I just needed to keep my head down and survive the rest of the day.

On my way back to my desk after my lunch break, I ducked into the break room to grab a glass of water. I needed at least a second to breathe before I faced the curious stares of my coworkers.

That’s when I heard voices drifting in from the slightly ajar door from one of the closest meeting rooms.

“Man, she really snapped at Tina...” Yoongi’s familiar voice was laced with amusement.

I froze.

“She didn’t just snap,” Yoongi continued with a low chuckle. “She obliterated her. And the best part? She called out Tina’s ridiculous crush on you. In front of everyone. Priceless.”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Jungkook snapped, his tone sharp.

“Why? It’s true.” Yoongi’s voice grew more teasing. “I’ve never seen Tina look so humiliated. It was a masterpiece, honestly. Someone had to put her in her place eventually.”

“She was out of line,” Jungkook growled.

I inched closer to the door, my heart racing. Were they talking about me?

“Out of line?” Yoongi scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? Tina’s been terrorizing her for weeks. Y/N finally decided she wasn’t going to take it anymore. Honestly, I respect her for it.”

“It’s not her job to cause scenes in the office, besides, you have terrorizing her as well.” Jungkook shot back, his tone cold.

Yoongi laughed, the sound dry and mocking. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re mad about the professionalism or whatever excuse you’re clinging to. You’re mad because she stood up to you too. Admit it, Jeon—she caught you off guard. And you hate not being in control. And you also terrorized her. Is that apropriate for a CEO to do?”

There was a brief silence, and then Jungkook’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Careful, Yoongi.”

“Why?” Yoongi said, unfazed. “Let’s be real, Jungkook. You’ve been riding her harder than anyone else in this office. And for what? Because she’s not your type? Because she’s not like the other girls who throw themselves at you? Or because she is fat?” Fat. This word made my hands shake. I hated it so much. It was a reminder.

“That’s enough,” Jungkook growled, the edge in his voice enough to make me hold my breath.

“Or maybe,” Yoongi continued, clearly enjoying pushing Jungkook’s buttons, “it’s because she doesn’t give a damn about you? She doesn’t hang on your every word or bat her lashes at you like Tina. She’s not afraid to tell you off, and it’s driving you crazy. She is not attractive at all and you cannot comprehend how come someone who is not pretty not into you?”

“I said that’s enough!” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the room, loud and commanding.

The sudden outburst made me flinch, and I stepped back, my foot scuffing against the floor.

The noise was subtle, but in the silence that followed Jungkook’s shout, it was loud enough to draw attention.

“What was that?” Jungkook’s voice was sharp.

I turned and bolted before either of them could investigate, my heart racing as I slipped back into the main office.

My mind was spinning, replaying the conversation I’d just overheard. Yoongi’s words lingered in my mind, poking at emotions I wasn’t ready to confront.

Jungkook wasn’t mad about professionalism. He wasn’t mad about Tina. He was mad about me.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

A few hours after overhearing the heated conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi, my head was a whirlwind of emotions. I couldn't focus on my work at all. I needed air—fresh, cool air that wasn’t tainted by the stifling tension of the office.

The rooftop seemed like the perfect escape. I’d been there once before during lunch, and it was usually deserted.

Pushing open the heavy door, I stepped out into the open, letting the crisp breeze wash over me. The city stretched out in every direction, its sounds muted by the height.

But my solitude was short-lived.

A familiar figure leaned against the railing, a cigarette between his fingers. Yoongi.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, one brow quirking in surprise. “Didn’t think you’d be the rooftop type.”

I crossed my arms, irritation bubbling to the surface. “And I didn’t think you’d be the smoking type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

He smirked, taking a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. “Touché. So, what brings you up here? Trying to escape the circus downstairs?”

I took a few steps closer, my frustration from earlier finding a new target. “If by circus you mean you and Jungkook, then yeah. Congratulations, you two are the ringleaders.”

Yoongi let out a low chuckle, the sound grating against my nerves. “Ah, so you heard us.”

“Hard not to when you’re practically shouting,” I snapped. “Though I’m sure you both figured no one would dare eavesdrop on the great CEO and his sidekick.”

He turned to face me fully, leaning back against the railing. His sharp features were illuminated by the city lights, giving him an almost ethereal, dangerous look. “Careful, Y/N. You’re sounding pretty bold for someone who usually keeps her head down.”

I took another step closer, my anger pushing me forward. “Bold? You think this is bold? No, Yoongi. Bold is bullying someone for no good reason. Bold is turning the office into a soap opera just because you can’t act like an adult.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of something darker. He took a step toward me, closing the distance between us.

“You don’t know me,” he said, his voice low and cutting.

“And I don’t care to,” I shot back, though my voice wavered slightly.

We were close now, too close. The air between us was charged, a volatile mix of anger and something unspoken. His gaze locked onto mine, unyielding and intense, and I refused to back down.

“Let me guess,” I continued, my voice shaking with both rage and nerves. “You’re just another overgrown man-child who thinks the world owes him something. Smoking on the rooftop, making snarky comments—what’s next? Brooding poetry about how misunderstood you are?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, though it carried a dangerous edge. “You’ve got a mouth on you, Y/N. Didn’t think you had it in you to snap twice in one day.”

“Yeah, well, you and your buddy Jungkook seem to bring out the worst in me,” I bit out.

Yoongi stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But don’t think for a second that you can figure me out with your little insults. You should look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Figure you out?” I laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to figure you out, Yoongi. Trust me, I know who I am, I look at myself in the mirror everyday. What about you? Do you know who you are?" there was a pause." Leave me the hell alone.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Then why are you still standing here?”

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and taunting. I hated the way he got under my skin, the way his presence seemed to pull at something deep and unwanted inside me.

“Because someone needs to tell you off as well,” I said finally, though my voice lacked the conviction it had moments ago.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re cute when you’re mad, Y/N. But if you think you can scare me off, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

I glared at him, refusing to let him see how his words affected me. “Enjoy your rooftop melodrama.”

I turned on my heel, marching back toward the door. But as I reached for the handle, his voice stopped me.

“Y/N.”

I glanced back, my hand hovering over the door.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his tone softer, almost contemplative.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I said nothing. Instead, I pushed open the door and walked back into the stairwell, his words following me like a shadow.

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mutifandomkid · 2 months ago

Text

Happy Anniversary

Paring: Buckyxreader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, self comparison, implied car accident??

Word count: 1.7k

****************

Bucky and I had been in a relationship for three years now. Tomorrow was our anniversary. I had already picked out some black lingerie, and made reservations at one of Bucky’s favorite restaurants.

It was a small hole in the wall, Italian. The inside of the venue was beautiful, black and white marble walls. Ivy vines trailing up and down the walls, and the black open fences out on the balcony. It was fancy for a small hole in the wall, but the food was amazing, and each time we ate there, we always left with full bellies with smiles on our faces.

“Alright I have one table set for two, scheduled for tomorrow night at 7 pm, underneath the name of Mr. Barnes?” The woman asked.

“Yes, that’s correct, thank you.” I said, to which she smiled at me, and said I was go to go.

I headed from the restaurant to hailed a taxi, climbing in a heading to Stark’s tower. In which he already knew of my arrival, letting me up. He had me try on two different dresses. His designer looking them over and making small adjustments before having me model them again.

“Looks good, you and iceman will look great tonight, firecracker.” Tony smiled, admiring the dress on my body. “Perfect for the party tonight.”

The dress itself was a white dress, that faded into an ombré on yellow, orange and red at the bottom, the flow of the dress and mover of colors appearing as if it was flames.

Stark grabbed my hand and spun me around, the designer admiring it from afar. Tony gave another look of approval before sending me on my way to try on the other dress.

It was a simply black halter top. Tony had his designer design the dresses, one for the party he was throwing tonight in honor of defeating Loki a few weeks ago. And the other he threw in courteously once he found out about my anniversary with Bucky. His designer even went as far as designing two matching suits for Bucky, who would try them on once he returned from his mission later today.

“If Barnes didn’t have such a possessive streak on you, I’d snatch you up.” Tony smirked as he saw me in the floor length black halter top. His designer smiled in approval as she slid the previous dress and shoes into a dress bag.

“Careful Tony, talk like that will get you killed.” I laughed, doing a little spin.

“Good thing iceman isn’t here then.” Tony responded, nodding as I spun. He took in each angle. “Barnes better appreciate you the way you deserve, princess.”

“He does,” I smiled. He had for the past three years, why would now be any different. “You know he has.”

Tony nodded, smiling, but his body language didn’t match his happy expression. “Right, well firecracker, you have to get ready for the party tonight. Barnes tell you he’d meet you here?”

“No, he didn’t.” I said, walking back to the dressing room to dress in normal clothes. “M’sure just slipped his mind.”

“I’ll send a driver for you tonight at 8?” Tony offered.

“You don’t have to, but you know I can’t say no.” I chuckled, stepping back out in my jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. Handing his designer the black dress.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked, reaching for my wallet.

“Don’t worry about it princess, you’re a part of this team. I’ll cover it.” Tony waved me off. “Off you go, get ready for tonight.”

I smiled and thanked him before heading back out of his building and back to my apartment, hailing a taxi to get back to Brooklyn.

_____________

“Hey Bucky, can’t wait to see you tonight!”

I sent the text over two hours ago. Was he okay? Did something go wrong on the mission? Did Sam know where he was?

The thoughts swirled in my head in a frenzied panic. I took a deep breath, counting to ten before exhausting, and then forced myself to calm down. He was probably fine, maybe just taking a nap.

I shot Sam a quick text, after all, they went on the mission together. If I couldn’t reach Bucky, then maybe Sam could.

“You guys make it back okay?”

It was a good few minutes before I got a reply. So while I waited, I busied myself with my make up for the night. Black eyeliner, orange eyeshadow with a touch of gold glitter, and dark ember lip.

“Yeah, we got back a few hours ago. Why?”

I read the text, frowning slightly. Normally Bucky was so quick to respond or call when he got back.

“Is Bucky okay?”

I went back to doing my makeup, finishing the look with the highlighter, and it accentuated the contour.

“Yeah, he’s in a great mood.”

I again frowned at Sam’s response, typing out a quick ‘okay’ and then putting my phone down. Why hadn’t he called? Brushing it off my shoulders and figuring he had his reasons, I moved onto my hair.

I did a light curl, then did it half up and half down, with a few strands framing my face. I then slipped on the dress, the white ombré one. I checked the time, Tony’s driver would be here any minute now.

I slipped on the matching white ombré shoes, and grabbed a small, white purse wallet, quickly shoving the few belongings I’d need while at the party. Before putting my phone in, I checked Bucky’s message log.

Seen.

________

As soon as I walked back into the tower, it was extravagant. Tony never faltered when it came to parties. Strobe lights, a live band, Dj stepping in when the band needed a break. People crowding the floor, the music blaring loudly. Drinks clattering, laughter and conversation filling the empty space.

Sam beckoned me over to him. He stood next to Natasha, both of which wearing black, although while Sam wore a classy suit, Natasha stood in a floor length slit black glitter dress, long gloves to match, as hell as glitter heels.

“Hey girl, where’ve you been?” Natasha smiled and pulled me into a hug. “Don’t tell me Bucky’s been keeping you all to himself. Always so selfish when it comes to you.”

I laughed at Natsha’s comment and hugged Sam when Natasha let me go. “Actually I haven’t seen him.” I smiled.

“Still?” Sam asked, handing me a cocktail he grabbed from a passing server’s plate. “Really thought he would’ve messaged you by now.”

I frowned. “Something happen on the mission?”

“No, not that I know of.” Sam answered.

“Odd, that’s not like Barnes.” Natasha mused. “No matter for now, we’re here to have fun. So let’s have some fun!”

Natasha smiled deviously before grabbing the cocktail from my hand and handing it to Sam. She then pulled me out to the dance floor, in which we both laughed and danced for a bit. For a minute it was just like old times.

And it was then I saw him.

There he was, in the suit that had matched mine. White with the same red, orange and yellow ombré, the colors clashing with his eyes. Courtesy of Tony.

I stopped dancing. Natasha noticed, and stopped and followed my gaze. It was then she saw it too, then grabbed my hand and physically dragged me off the dance floor.

There Bucky was, speaking softly to Sharon. He had her caged against the wall, her hands pressed against his chest, a flirtatious smile on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked when Natasha dragged my back to Sam by the bar.

“Apparently nothing is wrong with Bucky.” Natasha snapped, gesturing over to him.

Meanwhile I stood, taking my cocktail from Sam and taking small sips. Forcing the tears to stay at bay. I felt like my head was under water, and I was swimming in a pool that had no walls to grab onto.

I barely registered when Sam looked over, Bucky’s lips were locked with Sharon’s. Sam scowled, his expression a firm grimace.

“Let’s get you some air babe.” Sam said, walking with me towards the balcony outside. It was quieter there, less commotion, and not nearly as many people.

Natasha busied herself with shoving everyone else inside, then closing the balcony door and standing inside to prevent anyone from interrupting.

I was quiet, sipping my cocktail and willing the tears to stay, not allowing myself to cry.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Sam said softly.

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less.” I whispered.

“I know.” Sam was quiet for a long moment. “But he doesn’t, not with how well you treated him.”

“You’re not helping.” I whispered, shying away.

Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.” He said, his voice soft.

I knew he was trying to be comforting, to help. But the only thing I could feel, see, was Bucky. Arms around her, kissing her, treating her like how he treated me. At least how he used to treat me.

I glanced back inside. He was still with her. Sharon, god she was beautiful. Blonde hair, skinny, perfectly sculpted eyebrows, thin nose, brown comforting eyes. I looked away, feeling sick- no, disgusted with myself.

What did she have that I didn’t?

“I think I’m just going to go home Sam.” I whispered softly.

He sighed softly, before pulling me into a tight hug. It was suffocating.

“Call me if you need anything.” Sam whispered, pressing a light kiss to the top of my forehead before letting me go.

I nodded, then went back inside, Natasha giving me a pitiful look as I walked out of the party. I made my way down to the garage, the damn finally breaking when I remembered I didn’t drive here.

I took off my heels and began walking outside of the tower, the tears now falling down my face. It was late out on the streets of New York, and here I was in a gorgeous dress, crying, arms wrapped tightly around myself the day before my anniversary.

I couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything. I felt like I was underwater, drowning in my own sorrows and pity.

What was so special about her? What did she have that I didn’t? Had he slept with her? Was she better in bed? Did he think about her when he was with me? How long had this been going on?

I didn’t see the car barreling towards me when I went to cross the road.

***********

I apologize in advance.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastain stan #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #angst

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sayruq · 10 months ago

Text

Surrounded by dozens of soldiers, tanks, armored cars, buzzing drones, and army dogs, Ahmad Safi found himself looking at a massive hole in the ground. “Of all the death scenarios I have imagined myself in since the beginning of the war, I never suspected I would see my own grave,” the 26-year-old Khan Younis resident told Mondoweiss. Ahmad and his male relatives had been detained by the Israeli army and forcibly conscripted to stand in front of a resistance military base as the Israeli soldiers took cover behind them. They were caught in the middle of an exchange of fire between the soldiers and the resistance. On the night of January 22, the Israeli army launched a sudden attack on western Khan Younis, where five shelters for displaced people were located. In the middle of the night, the Israeli troops advanced towards the Tiba buildings, where Ahmad and his family had taken refuge in the middle of the Israeli-designated “safe zone.” These buildings were surrounded by al-Aqsa University, the al-Khair Hospital, the Industrial College, the Palestinian Red Crescent Society Center, and the al-Mawasi coastal area, all housing tens of thousands of displaced Palestinians. Early that night, Ahmad realized that Israeli quadcopter drones had fully occupied the sky. He knew what this meant based on his accumulated experience of Israeli war tactics — the army preferred to launch major operations under cover of night. Ahmad heard nonstop gunfire in the distance that night, but it was relatively far away, so he kept watching an anime show to distract himself. Moments later, the sound of gunfire intensified and got closer, and suddenly he heard screams from the opposite room. His cousin had been hit by a bullet. As the gunfire started intensifying further, Ahmad threw himself under his bed when the rest of his family rushed to his room carrying his injured cousin. That was when the Israeli soldiers stormed their apartment, bursting into the room in a blaze of flashlights. “It was the first time I had seen an Israeli soldier in real life,” Ahmad told Mondoweiss. The army separated the women from the men and forced the women to flee south to Rafah. The men were kept zip-tied and would remain in the army’s custody. An Israeli commander ordered Ahmad and the men of his family to move downstairs in single file. He then ordered them to kneel against the southern wall inside their apartment, which faces a resistance military base. Ahmad’s body was shaking uncontrollably. His lips were trembling and his breathing was heavy. “I tried to pull myself together,” Ahmad recounted. “But when I heard my mother say goodbye to us as she was dragged outside by the Israeli soldiers, I couldn’t hold back my tears.” The next morning on January 23, the Israeli soldiers ordered Ahmad, his father, his brother, and the rest of his cousins to move outdoors and instructed them to move horizontally in front of the armored military cars. “As they ordered us to stop and stand still, I found myself again a few meters away from the resistance military base,” Ahmad said. “ That was the moment I realized that we were being used as human shields.”

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #news update #war news #war on gaza #war crimes #gaza genocide #genocide

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pixiexdusts-world · 30 days ago

Text

Love and war

Min Ho Moon x rival!reader

Summary: Rivals turned reluctant partners, Min Ho and his fiercest competitor fight for victory—only to realize that somewhere between the battles and late nights, they’ve fallen for each other.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The first time I met Min Ho Moon, he was wearing a designer jacket and an infuriating smirk. The second time, he stole my seat in the library. The third time, he declared outright that I was his academic rival. And, honestly? He wasn’t wrong.

Min Ho was annoyingly good at everything—tests, projects, even sports. He had this effortless confidence, as if the world bent to his will. Meanwhile, I had spent years clawing my way to the top of KISS’s academic rankings, and I wasn’t about to let some spoiled, perfect-haired chaebol knock me down.

But then came the competition.

KISS announced a prestigious internship at one of Korea’s top fashion brands—an opportunity that could open doors worldwide. The catch? Only one student could win, and the decision would be made based on a rigorous business proposal competition.

Min Ho wanted it. I wanted it.

And so, war began.

For weeks, we avoided each other in the halls, except for the occasional sharp remark. If I was working late in the library, Min Ho would show up five minutes later, as if to prove he was more dedicated. If I found the perfect reference book, he’d somehow check it out first. We even fought over a cappuccino at the café once—neither of us willing to admit we’d ordered the last one.

But the worst of it? The teacher paired us as partners for the final round.

“Great,” I muttered when we received the email. “Absolutely fantastic.”

Min Ho leaned back in his chair, looking way too relaxed for someone who had just been assigned his mortal enemy. “Try to keep up, will you?”

“Try not to drag me down,” I shot back.

We were supposed to create a business pitch together, but instead, we argued over everything. Logos, target demographics, marketing strategies—each meeting felt like a battle.

At one point, after a particularly heated debate, I threw my pen down. “Min Ho, not everyone thinks overpriced designer sneakers are the peak of fashion.”

He scoffed. “And not everyone wants to dress like they just rolled out of a thrift store.”

“Some of us have personalities beyond our credit card limits.”

“Some of us know what quality looks like.”

We glared at each other, tension crackling between us.

But then, something shifted.

One late night, stuck in the library, we were both exhausted. I caught Min Ho rubbing his temples, frustration clear in his usually composed face. For once, he didn’t have a snarky remark ready.

“You okay?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He sighed. “This competition is important to you, huh?”

I nodded. “It’s my chance to prove I belong in this industry.”

For the first time, I saw hesitation in his expression. “You already do.”

It was such a simple statement, but it caught me completely off guard. Min Ho—my biggest rival, the person who had spent weeks fighting me on every decision—believed in me?

From that moment, things started changing. We still bickered, but there was a new understanding beneath it. When I was struggling with a part of the presentation, he stepped in. When he got stuck, I helped him. We challenged each other, pushed each other, and—somewhere along the way—stopped being enemies.

I started noticing things about him. The way he furrowed his brows when deep in thought. How he actually listened, even when he pretended not to. The way he smiled—not the cocky smirk I was used to, but a real, genuine smile.

And maybe, just maybe, I realized I liked it.

The night before the final presentation, we were still at the café, fine-tuning the last details. I reached for my coffee, only for Min Ho’s hand to brush mine.

Neither of us moved.

His fingers lingered just a second too long. I looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something different there—something warmer, softer.

“This has been fun,” he murmured.

I let out a short laugh. “Fighting with me for weeks? Sounds like a dream come true.”

“Not the fighting,” he said. “Working with you.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. “Min Ho—”

“I think I like you.” His voice was quiet but sure, like he had just realized it himself. “Actually, I know I do.”

I opened my mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to tell him I felt the same—but he beat me to it.

“Before you say anything,” he added, “let me just say—if we lose this competition, I’m blaming you.”

I laughed, and suddenly, the air between us wasn’t tense—it was light. Natural.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered.

“And you love it,” he shot back.

Maybe I did.

The next day, we won the competition.

Winning the competition should have been the highlight of my week. Scratch that—of my entire academic career at KISS. But as I stood on stage, trophy in hand, the only thing I could think about was Min Ho.

Min Ho, who was smiling like he already knew we would win. Min Ho, who hadn’t stopped looking at me all day. Min Ho, who, just last night, had said he liked me.

The moment the ceremony ended, he was at my side.

“So,” he said, hands in his pockets, his usual smirk firmly in place. “Should I prepare my victory speech? Maybe a heartfelt thank-you to my incredible teammate—who, let’s be honest, was mostly carried by my genius?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. If anything, I carried you.”

He laughed, but the teasing didn’t last long. His expression softened. “We really did it, huh?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, finally letting myself take in the moment. “We did.”

For weeks, we had been so focused on beating each other. And then, we had been so focused on winning together. But now, with no rivalry left between us, all I could think about was how easy it was to just be with him.

That realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

I liked Min Ho.

Not just in the way that made my heart race when he smirked at me, or the way I secretly looked forward to our arguments. I liked him in a way that made me want to spend more late nights with him, working toward something bigger. I liked him in a way that scared me, because if I let myself fall, I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop.

And judging by the way he was looking at me, I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

“So,” Min Ho said, tilting his head. “Now that we’re officially Korea’s best student business duo, what’s next?”

I crossed my arms, pretending to think. “Hmm. Maybe we could enter another competition. I’d love to beat you again.”

He scoffed. “Excuse me? I let you win.”

“Oh, really?”

“Obviously. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

My brain short-circuited. “Boyfriend?”

Min Ho didn’t even flinch. “Yeah. What, did you think I confessed just for fun?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Oh my God. He was being serious. He actually wanted to date me.

And the worst part? I wanted it too.

“I—” I hesitated, heart pounding. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he pointed out.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t fight the smile pulling at my lips. This is insane. Min Ho and I had been rivals, then reluctant partners. Now, we were standing on the edge of something new. Something exciting. Something terrifying.

But Min Ho wasn’t scared.

And maybe I wasn’t either.

So instead of arguing, I took a step closer, standing on my toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Fine,” I said, enjoying the way his confident facade cracked just a little. “You win this one.”

Min Ho blinked. “Wait. That—was that a yes?”

I grinned. “What do you think?”

For the first time ever, Min Ho Moon was speechless.

But it only lasted a second. Because before I could take another breath, he grabbed my wrist, pulled me in, and kissed me—properly this time.

And just like that, Min Ho and I weren’t rivals anymore.

#xo kitty #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #min ho moon x reader #min ho moon #minho moon #minho moon x reader #min ho x reader #min ho x y/n #min ho x you #minho x y/n #minho x reader #minho x you #xo kitty season 2 #xo kitty season 1

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cera-writes · 11 months ago

Note

So… a bit of a (potentially) weird fix request. The crop top has me in all kinds of feelings. The hair metal look on Gambit even more so. But I have the idea that the self insert (SI) is a massive fan of the bands that he uses T-shirts for, and Gambit has no clue about the music, he just loves the designs - and to rile up the SI. I’d love to see something in that vein, teasing or stealing his merch maybe? Could be SFW or NSFW? I’d imagine nsfw if it went too heated or playful an argument.

Sorry if this seems like a ramble. I just have the funniest images of myself having these arguments with him and it makes me smile.

Okay, BUT I LOVE THIS PROMPT. Yes, I'll write it asap ≧◡≦ pairing: reader x Remy Lebeau tags: nsfw, rough sex, kissing, face riding, teasing, dry humping, edging [Prompt: Reader steals Remy's crop top to teach him a lesson]

"You Wearin' My Shirt I See."

Dammit.

Why did he have to be so freaking hot in that tee shirt?! And his hair. GODS. You wanted to run your fingers through it.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of Remy. He was wearing one of your favorite bands on a sinful crop top that he had absolutely no business wearing. In front of you.

And he looked so damned good in it.

"Where'd you get it?" You asked him, taking a plate of beignets that he made.

"Get what chérie? These good looks?" Remy winked, clasping the tongs together in a clapping motion.

You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of a beignet before your eyes settled back towards his midriff. That sexy, defined midriff.

"My eyes are up here mon ami," he teased you.

You huffed, blushing and embarrassed from the way he was making you flustered. The way only he could make you.

"Your shirt." you said as a matter of fact, trying to hide your annoyance.

"A thrift store." Remy shrugged.

Your eyes widened. "That shirt?! Do you know how hard it is to find that specific shirt? And you just found it? At a thrift store no less?" you shook your head.

Remy chuckled. " They must be important or somethin'. Shoot, I mean, I don't even know the band. Just liked the design."

You playfully smacked his arm.

"Rock God ?! You don't know who Rock God is?" You looked at him in disbelief. You absolutely loved that band. Worshipped them even. Hell, you'd basically worshipped them when you were in high school.

Remy simply shook his head.

"Poser," you smirked, crossing your arms. Remy arched a brow and moved closer to you, backing you up against the kitchen counter.

He noticed the slight dusting of powdered sugar on the corner of your lip before taking his thumb ever so slowly and swiping it across your skin. You tensed for a split second. He then brought his thumb to his lips before licking the sugar clean off.

"So sweet," he teased, dangerously close to your ear before moving away from you like nothing had happened. You could feel the heat of his breath tickle you, exciting you in the littlest of ways.

You felt your body suddenly heating up at his little act of flirting. So that's how he wanted to play? Two could play that game.

Later that night, you went to check and see if Remy was in his room. After a few knocks with no answer, you proceeded inside. You knew his room had an attached bathroom and you saw steam rising behind the closed door, meaning he was in the shower.

You also couldn't help but notice the shirt he was wearing earlier tossed carelessly on top of his bed.

Perfect.

You didn't know how long you had but you stripped down in nothing but your underwear. You threw his shirt over your head, leaving your other clothes discarded on the floor.

It smelled so good. You inhaled the scent of him. A hint of tobacco, sandalwood, and the faint scent of beignets he made earlier lingered on the linen. It was just so incredibly Remy.

You heard some rustling in the bathroom and quickly posed on the bed before he noticed. You laid down in the usual sexy cliche pose, one hand resting on your hip as you used the other to prop your head up on one of his pillows.

What you didn't expect to see was him clad in nothing but a towel draped over his waist as he came out of the bathroom after flicking the light switch off.

It was dark in his room, but you could see him plain as day. He hadn't noticed you yet. He shuffled around the room until he found the lamp on his bedside table. He yanked the pull cord down and nearly jumped in surprise upon seeing you, at last.

"Putain, tu m’as fait peur!" Gambit jumped back, holding his towel tight against his ass. He then noticed what you wearing and a lack thereof, on his bed.

"Damn, chére, you look good enough to eat sprawled out like that. And what's this?" He smirked before biting his bottom lip. "You wearin' my shirt I see?"

"Nice of you to finally notice," you said in your most sultry voice.

The plan was just to tease him. But you didn't expect him to actually be into it. You figured he'd kick you out of his room or something after pulling a stunt like that, but you should know Remy better than that.

Remy climbed up onto his bed, getting ridiculously close to you again. "Now, ma petite, you should know by now when Gambit sees somethin' he likes, he goes after it."

You felt your body growing hotter with each word that came from the creole's smooth tongue. You wanted him. You wanted this man from the very second you set eyes on him. You wanted whatever this was between you both.

Without a second thought, you were pulling him into you. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him into a very heated kiss. All those months of you teasing each other finally culminated into this exact moment.

His stubble tickled your cheek as he kissed you back with even more ferocity and lust. God, you couldn't get enough of Remy Lebeau.

He groaned into the kiss, letting his tongue wrestle yours in a game of dominance. You needed to be above him. You needed that sense of control. So you did. You flipped positions so that you were now straddling his waist.

He let out a low whistle before drinking you in. "My shirt sure does look better on you."

He then sat up, only to lean into your ear. "But I bet it'd look even better off." He nipped at the soft skin of your ear, making you whimper and shudder pleasantly as you felt yourself getting wetter for him. He knew that got a reaction out of you earlier and loved the way you came undone for him.

You then found yourself grinding against him through that pitiful excuse of a towel he still had tied around his waist. This time, Remy was the one letting soft whimpers escape his lips. "A-ahh, ma chere..."

Oh.

That definitely did it for you. You ground your hips into his again. If it wasn't before, your underwear was definitely soaked now.

"Continue comme ça," he begged. Oh, to have him begging in French underneath you was such a treat. It definitely turned you on more than you'd have liked to admit.

You continued teasing him. Just feeling him against your core was almost enough to send you over the edge but Remy stopped you from abruptly reaching that high. You pouted in frustration at this.

"Not yet. I wanna taste you," he licked his lips. You didn't have time to react before he was scooting your frame above him, positioning you so that you were practically sitting on his face. He pulled your underwear down your thighs before they were even completely off of you as he didn't stop until he had tasted every inch of you, his skilled tongue dancing patterns against your hot, drenched skin.

"Oh, fuck!" You screamed. You gripped the brass metal headboard, gripping it for dear life as his tongue explored everywhere. You started grinding again, not realizing the sound his bed was making as it creaked back and forth. Honestly, you didn't seem to care and neither did he. You would soon rather wake the entire Institute before letting this kind of pleasure slip away.

"Gods, Remy...I'm about to-" Your eyes slammed shut and you screamed in ecstasy as waves of pleasurable relief and bliss washed over you. He lapped up every bit of your essence and proudly grinned once he'd made you come. He did that.

After you caught your breathing and had time to recuperate for a second, you decided you weren't done with him...by no means anywhere close to being through with this man.

You positioned yourself on top of him once more, not that he had any conplaints. "It's my turn again." you smirked, face and hair sticky with beads of sweat. But you looked like a goddess in his eyes. "Angélique," he sighed, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip and tasting any remaining remnants of you. "So sweet," he purred.

His erection had practically slipped from underneath the towel by now and you ripped the rest of the fabric away. He was big. He was already dripping precum for you before you'd even lowered your mouth completely down his length.

His hands instantly gripped the sheets. He hissed as a gasp of pleasure escaped his lips, just from you doing god's work.

He was a whimpering hot mess, uttering broken French as you bobbed up and down his shaft at a pace comfortable enough to edge him close but not enough to make him orgasm. Not yet anyway. No, you wanted to enjoy seeing him squirm for you.

"Oh, mon ami, I should let you borrow my-unf-shirt more often if it leads to this," he moaned, tilting his head back in pleasure.

You teased him sinfully, bringing him dangerously close to climaxing but denying him that release.

You didn't have time to continue before he wanted control. "I can't stand it anymore, chere. I have to have you." He growled, flipping positions again but this time you were on your hands and knees, pressed into the mattress.

You hardly had time to even notice him slipping on a condom. He was making fast work of his hands.

"So eager," you teased.

He lined himself at your entrance before slamming into you with such a need that would bring the whole Institute down. You gripped the brass headboard again, screaming in writhing pleasure as he pounded in and out of you with such relentless force.

You were damn sure the other X-Men could hear every single moan and scream coming from Remy's room but you could own up to that later. You honestly couldn't give a fuck. The only thing that mattered right now was this man literally fucking your brains out. And Gods. He was.

"Harder!" you begged. Remy was already so close. He obliged you and gripped your waist with both hands, throwing his head back as he moaned your name over and over again. All you could think about was him in that crop top and his hair done in such a way that could have sent you over the edge right then and there.

He was hitting that sweet spot over and over, causing you to come a second time before his movements became sloppier as he finally released himself inside of you.

You were both a panting, hot sweaty mess when you collapsed down onto the mattress. Remy carelessly tossed the used condom in the bin beside his bed.

"Fuck, Remy. That was...amazing." You smiled, laughing incredulously a bit as you kissed his cheek as he laid beside you.

"You're amazing, ma petite." He grinned, pulling you into his chest.

Somewhere amidst all your fun, your underwear had gotten lost in the sheets. Remy found them before sliding them into his bedside drawer for keeps.

"Can I keep your shirt?" You asked, not expecting him to say yes.

"As long as I can keep those," He smirked, alluding to your underwear.

"Deal," you sighed contently as you both drifted off to a great sleep.

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting this @cookiesandcosplay! It was so much fun to write! <333

#gambit x reader #gambit #xmen #xmen97remy #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau

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prokopetz · 2 years ago

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The next revision of the playtest draft for Eat God is now up. This version includes all of the missing rules from the previous version – advancement, Progress and Calamity Clocks, etc. – as well as numerous expansions and clarifications; the game is now considered feature-complete, though it still needs worked examples, pre-made scenarios, and a whole pile of Big Stupid Tables™.

The most noteworthy addition to this draft, however, is (mostly) complete character creation rules. All but one of the remaining blanks have been filled in, and many Traits have been revised to make them more flexible and add a few interesting new rules toys. You can more easily stat up horrible little gargoyles, there's a little something for the hypno kink crowd, and also you can be a (very small) werewolf now.

(The one remaining blank alluded to above with that "mostly" is the 36th Trait, which I'm leaving off for now because I can't decide exactly what to slot in there and I don't want to spin my wheels on that any longer; for now it just reads "reroll".)

Last but not least, Eat God now has a cover illustration, thanks to the very talented @magpiemalarkey. We decided to be forthright about the game's inspirations; for legal reasons, the depicted characters are not Muppets. (To be clear, only the illustration is their work; the text design for the game's title is a placeholder I threw together myself using a commercial font, so don't blame them for that part.)

As always, questions, criticisms, and bizarre rants are welcome – and if you'd like to give it a spin but don't have a group, character creation is its own little self-contained minigame, and all you need is six-sided dice to give it a try; feel free to post your creations in the notes!

You can find the latest revision at the links above, or below:

https://penguinking.com/eat-god/

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #eat god #game design

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star-sim · 1 year ago

Text

supermassive blackhole ☆ jay park pt. 2

☆ non-idol!jay x fem!reader

☆ summary: You and Jay Park couldn't stand each other. But after a drunk makeout session at your university's annual soccer mixer, combined with Jay's secret identity as the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, the two of you are pushed closer to each other than ever, challenging your long-time status as 'enemies.'

☆genre: enemies to lovers, suggestive but no nsfw/smut, angst, fluff, spiderman! au, college! au, so incredibly american HELP, reader has glasses bc it's cute and jay has a lip piercing bc i said so

☆ warning(s) ? many mentions and instances of alcohol (all characters are of age), this is very suggestive but there is no smut

☆ word count: 16.7k ☆ tag list: @sophiko22 @yenqa @kwiwin @okikinshasthehiccups @lovelickies @siyen @blackhairandbangs @pjjongsaeng @chkltmlk

part 1

The next day, exactly one week before finals week officially began, you and your friends decided to have a beach picnic to de-stress from the impending doom that was semester finals. It was your meeting place, ever since high school. Clad in a pretty yellow sundress, you entertained yourself with a sand-castle building contest between you and a few friends. Unfortunately for them, a course in urban design (which you shared with Jay Park) equipped you with just enough knowledge on how to build a killer sand-castle.

“Woah!” Isa, the one that you helped get with Jay’s friend all those years ago, exclaimed. You were crouched right next to her in the sand, using silicone molds to make sand seashells. Since junior year of high school, you and Isa have grown apart. It wasn’t the break up rift that caused the distance. In fact, you got closer because of the break up. People just grew on their own, and sometimes that growth was in opposite directions. Now that you were at the same university, you were still friends, but not as close as you used to be. “Specky, you’re really good.”

You grinned to yourself, melding the wet sand into a pillar. “I know.”

Even when your friendship thinned, there was one thing that made Isa distinct: the fact that she called you “Specky,” (short for “spectacles,” since you wore glasses) and no one else did.

“It’s what a course in urban planning and design gets ya,” you quipped, poking your friend with a sand-covered finger.

There were some things that you two disagreed about.

Like when Isa picked her major to be fashion design and apparel construction. Not the most useful or appealing to most employers unless she made it big, which was why you were so vehemently against it. Between the required courses in fashion design and political science (your own major), you argued that the latter would be much more useful.

But that was two years ago, and now you joke about it.

“Yeah?” Isa cocked a brow. “But can you make leopard print look good?”

You smiled. “No, but I know how to pass a law that makes leopard print illegal.”

Isa nudged you playfully. It was supposed to be a light nudge, and it was. Except, your heads bumped together. After a bit of laughing and a few ‘sorry’s’ Isa stopped in her tracks, nose scrunching.

You glanced at her curiously.

Isa didn’t say anything, only leaning closer to you. This time, she pressed the tip of her nose against your exposed shoulder.

“Are you sniffing me?”

Isa only laughed before pulling back. You shot your friend a suspicious look.

“You smell like someone.”

“Don’t I always smell like someone?” you molded the sand in your palm. “Like.. I dunno, myself?”

“Yes, but-” Isa leaned into you again. “You don’t smell like yourself.”

Before you could question her further, Isa called over a few more friends.

“Jake! Kazuha! Come smell Little Miss Specky!”

After having five whole people smell you, they all agreed that you smelled “un-[Name]-like” (whatever that meant).

Isa frowned, placing a thinking hand on her chin. “A-Ha!”

You watched amused as the woman jumped to her feet.

“I know who you smell like!”

Isa threw an accusatory finger your way.

“You smell like Jay!”

Jay Park knew there was something wrong when his toaster broke that morning.

Him and his (your) friends were having a beach get-together, but you went first. He told you that he “had something to do for his job.” Probably easy to guess what he was actually doing.

He arrived at the outing an hour after you did.

And the moment he stepped out of his taxi, there was an entire group of grown adults (read: his friends) charging at him. It wasn’t unnatural for this to happen, but it was what they were screaming and the person they were dragging along with them– You.

Except, when he made eye contact with her ,you looked away embarrassed.

And that was when he remembered the worst slip-up of his life.

“Yeah, I think Jay Park is in love with you. He tells me all about he’s liked you since freshman year and–”

Lying to you while being Spider-Man…. About how he, in his civilian form, liked you.

In his defense– he was panicking, okay? He didn’t know what to say! And he didn’t want to make it awkward either– ew, that would be so icky.

Apparently making his enemy think that he was madly in love with her better than making the atmosphere awkward. When he went home yesterday night (that is, after dropping you back at his place and then making another round around the city so that you wouldn't suspect him), he almost jumped off a building without shooting a web to suspend himself.

He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip.

Jay couldn’t make out any words they were shouting at him, other than your name, “fucking,” and “smell.”

“Okay, okay, shut the fuck up!” Jay finally yelled back at them. “All of you. Let me sit down first.”

When they got back to where all their other friends were, his friends sat him down, looking very serious, as if he was their teenage son who they caught drinking, or something.

“Why are you guys so serious?” he questioned suspiciously.

“You know why!” one of his friends chided.

Jay really didn’t.

In the corner of his eye, he could see another one of his friends dragging you toward them.

Dread.

He could not face you after what happened yesterday.

Eyes narrowing, he turned back to them. “What is this about?”

“How ‘bout you tell us what you’re about?” one of them quipped. “Why does [Name] smell so much like you?”

What.

“Wait, what?” Jay’s lips curled. “What do you mean?”

“Let go of me, Jake!” Jake Sim finally managed to get you, who was kicking and screaming, to come over to where Jay was. You struggled out of his grasp. “Dude, I just want to build my sand-castle, Jesus fuck-”

When your eyes met with Jay’s again, instead of a glare or disgusted expression, you simply looked away awkwardly.

“[Name] [Last Name]!” Isa proclaimed. “Are ya gonna tell us why you smell like your sworn enemy?”

“I don’t know!” you shot your friends a glare. “What do I even smell like normally?”

“Sweet, kinda like an orange,” Jake answered matter-of-factly, smiling.

I would know that, thought Jay.

“And what does Jay smell like normally?”

When Jay and you locked eyes, you knew the answer exactly. You both knew why you smelled like him, and it was an answer that was more complicated-sounding than it should be.

You slept in his bed. Not because you slept together on his bed, but because he also used to sleep in that bed, so it was only natural that his scent wore off on you. You also used his shampoo and body wash. Not because you showered together (ew!), but because you lived in his house.

But if you told them that, there was no way in hell anyone would believe that there wasn’t some sort of relationship between you two.

“He smells like wood, but like, mixed with Axe body spray.”

“I do not!”

It was a silent agreement between Jay and you.

Act stupid.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jay grumbled.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I knew you guys were stupid but I didn’t think you were that stupid.”

Jake and Isa sent each other suspicious looks, reconvening before a large grin spread across both of their faces.

“I knew it,” Jake murmured. He got louder. “I knew it!”

Everyone looked at him curiously.

“What are you talking about–”

Swinging an imperious finger at Jay and you, Jake announced loud enough for surrounding people to hear and turn their heads. “These two are fucking!”

What?

The uproar that that single statement caused was uncontrollable. In your group of friends, it was common knowledge that Jay Park and [Name] [Last Name] had nothing to do with each other. If Jay was on one end of the spectrum, you would be on the other. Even suggesting that there may be anything more than simply hate was outrageous.

“No way, man….”

“That’s insane.”

“Impossible!”

When Jay looked over at you, ready to deny everything that they were saying, instead of your characteristic scrunched nose and curled lips in disapproval, your face was plastered with nothing but an awkward and almost embarrassed expression.

“Y’know what?” one of their friends spoke up. “I saw Jay and [Name] kissing at the hockey mixer last week!”

You were completely out of commission, and uncharacteristically so, with a panicked and flustered face. Everyone else was consumed in such clamor. So Jay would have to take everything into his own hands. Taking a deep breath, he waited (while showing great disapproval) for everyone to shut up.

It wasn’t like they’d believe him if he explained the truth.

“Are you guys done…?” he finally spoke, clear dissatisfaction in his voice.

Everyone shut up.

Jay Park was generally an easygoing guy. He didn’t snap at people, and if anything, he was often the butt of jokes. Not that he minded. He was hot-headed and an asshole, but he was probably one of the easiest people to joke with.

However, his censure was not something to mess with.

He was an older brother. He was a STEM major, which was already a rigorous department to go into, no less civil and urban engineering. He was the top of his class in high school (after a certain someone, of course), and ostensibly worked, like, three jobs.

If there was anyone who was normally very patient and smart, it was him. If he’s annoyed, probably shut the fuck up.

Plus, there was nothing like pissing off a tired college student a week before finals.

Jay wet his lips. “You guys are making [Name] uncomfortable. Look at her.”

It was true. You were literally cowering into yourself, frowning deeply and playing with the hem of your yellow sundress.

“Look, I get that you’re our friends, or whatever,” Jay huffed, folding his arms. “But maybe there’s a reason that we don’t tell you certain things. Maybe because everything gets so blown out of proportion and you guys assume the worst.”

He turned over to Jake. The scariest thing about Jay was that even if he was hotheaded most of the time, he was incredibly calm and laid-back when confrontational. “You– You especially. You constantly force [Name] and I together. Some people don’t get along, and that’s okay. Stop trying to force people who don’t want to be forced together.”

Jay wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even annoyed. Just trying to set things straight. When he was done, he looked at his friends expectantly. One by one, they apologized awkwardly.

There was no real resolution, just Jay saying, “Cool,” and walking away to talk to his other friends.

To say that you felt awkward would be an understatement, and to say that you were comfortable with the fact that you were feeling awkward would be a lie.

There was a lot to unpack.

Everyone was trying to suggest that you and Jay had some sort of sexual relationship. People always joked about it, sure, but for an entire group to accuse you of it was beyond disorienting. Now sitting under the parasol with a floral-print towel beneath your sundress, drawing shapes on the sand that had gotten onto the towel, you wished you could have said something. Sure, they were probably being light-hearted, and you knew your friends had no intention to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something else they didn’t know.

That the number one source of your discomfort was directly from Jay.

When Spider-Man detailed everything that Jay had apparently told him about you, you didn't know how to feel.

According to Spider-Man, Jay Park has had a thing for you since freshman year of high school, and he keeps the hero up until early hours of the day just talking about you. Initially, you were horrified. Could Spider-Man be messing with you? There was no way that Jay Park– the bitch-faced, uncouth, uncivilized, villain that was Jay Park– liked you.

Just the thought that someone like him saw you in a different light made you uneasy.

On the other hand, you were a bit flattered. As Spider-Man explained it, Jay had a thing for you but not necessarily a crush. Rather, he found you attractive.

“And he still does,” the hero had added. “He still thinks you’re attractive, even if he argues with you.”

Jay was the victim of some of your worst moments. You’ve screamed bloody murder at him, shed hot tears, and shrieked so hard that you’d lost your voice. He’d point out your major flaws and insecurities, ones that you didn’t even know that you had. He’d seen your true destructive, tyrannical, and malicious self.

But he still found you attractive?

That was terrifying.

Has he ever seen you with your friends? How you were you soft and kind, all affectionate and tender? How you’d take care of them, how you’d pet their heads and listen to them cry?

How could he ever find you attractive if he’d never seen you be a good person, when he’d only seen the monstrous side of you?

How could anyone find you attractive?

You got positive comments about your appearance many times before, but they were always followed up by comments about your character

You were snapped out of your thoughts when a familiar dark head of hair passed through your line of vision. You never took the time to observe what he was wearing: basketball shorts and a hoodie. It seemed like he could never dress for the occasion, regardless of where he was.

He had his earbuds jammed into his ears, an irritated expression on his face.

After years of purposefully trying to make his life miserable, you could read his face easily

Jay was hot. Physically– Wait no.

Jay was hot, as in ‘affected by the scalding weather.’ His brows always scrunched up with his bottom lip jutting out when he was feeling especially warm.

Maybe if he took off that hoodie of his for once.

You looked down at your hands.

You were under a parasol.

Which gave shade.

Which would make someone feel less ‘affected by the scalding weather.’

“Park!”

You never really thought that you would be the one to invite Jay Park to sit under a parasol with you. Especially after such events that transpired earlier.

It was silent.

Awkward.

Usually, you’d be able to look him straight in the eye, but now equipped with the knowledge that he may or may not have been attracted to you this entire time, you felt queasy.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

He had his eyes glued to the book that he was reading. Upon closer inspection, you knew that book. In fact, you had it.

It was Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon. The textbook for your urban design course.

And he had the audacity to call you nerdo freak all this time!

He only looked away from his book to glance at his phone.

To change the song that he was listening to.

When you peeked at his phone screen, you noticed a familiar album cover playing.

Bright orange and blue, four men gathered around the table.

Then you noticed the white text right below it.

Supermassive Blackhole.

Before your mind could even think, your mouth moved for you.

“You listen to Muse?”

Jay took his earbud out of his ear, looking up at you slowly with a questioning look.

This scene has happened before.

“You asked me that already,” Jay said simply.

“I-I know.” Why were you stammering? “Summer of freshman year. We were at the beach then, too.”

He cocked a brow at you, and just as he was turning back to his textbook, you continued, voice meeker than usual. “I asked you if you listened to Muse because I also listen to them. But you.. You thought I was making fun of you.”

Jay looked at you slowly.

Why were you shy?

He fingered the earbud that he had removed. You seemed to notice, bracing yourself for the slight embarrassment that would come with his shoving that thing back into his ear. Except, he didn’t. Instead, he presented it in his palm before you.

Was he… offering it to you?

“If you’re just going to stare at it–”

You snatched the bud from his palm, prodding it into your ear.

When the music played, you were met with Matt Bellamy vocalizing into your ear and that iconic, yet rough, guitar rift. Weird that the very song that you listened to when working out was the one that Jay used to study urban planning and design.

You watched Jay’s focused face. The scar on his nose got lost in the divots on his skin when he scrunched his nose, presumably in reaction to something he had read. You never really noticed the birthmark on his neck either.

The next song played, but before it did, Jay paused it.

“What are you looking at?”

You recoiled.

“You were looking at me,” Jay remarked. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, there’s nothing.”

“Okay.”

He caught a glimpse of the song playing before pressing ‘play.’

“You must love this song,” he muttered.

You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, until you were met with a distinct drum, rugged bassline, and the 4-on-the-floor beat.

Exo-Politics.

That was the name of the song.

The song that was playing was called Exo-Politics.

You were a political science major.

Was he trying to joke with you?

Was the Jay Park attempting to joke with you?

In the corner of your eye, you could see some children building sand-castles, just like you had been doing earlier. You then peered at the textbook he was reading.

Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon.

You bit your lip.

“Do you…” you began. “Do you want to see who can build a better sand-castle?”

A civil and urban engineering major and a political science major.

Both were taking the same urban planning and design college course.

Who would build a better sand-city?

“What the fuck is that?”

“I’m going for a high-rise look!”

Maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea.

Especially when it was two ‘nerdo freaks’ trying to out-wit each other.

“The housing density is insane.”

“That settlement looks squatter.”

“That looks unsustainable.”

“That neighborhood is just looking to get gentrified.”

At that comment, you, who were only a few feet away from Jay, grabbed a handful of semi-wet sand and hurled it at the man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey!” The glob of sand had landed on one of his ‘high-rise’ buildings. “I’m trying to say that your neighborhoods look poor.”

“Poor?!”

You went for a more sustainable look. Geometric layouts, charmingly sinuous roads, mid-height buildings with only a few clustered high-rise ones, concise zones of income, and clumps of wet sand littered all across the sand-city, imitating trees.

“Is that… New Urbanism?”

You patted your hands off. “Glad that you can recognize it, Park.”

The detail really was something to marvel at. Each building had a indents into their surface to imitate windows, the sandy ‘roads’ were strategically carved with a sharp fingernail to replicate the different uses of land, and even the globs of sand that represented trees were fluffed up to look like actual trees rather than miscellaneous globs.

Jay rolled his eyes, going back to shaping the pointed tip of his building.

Whereas your city was terribly idealistic, he went for a more true-to-life replica. After all, it was his job to study and create infrastructural pieces for real-life cities. High-rise buildings, strong geometric structures, high-density housing, narrow spaces between structures, and little open space. They were built with incredible precision: all the lines were perfectly straight, all the shapes were beautifully even on all sides, and it genuinely looked true-to-life.

“Your city looks like something that would need protection from Spider-Man.”

Ironic.

Jay sighed to hide the slightly-amused grin that you had elicited from him.

“You like Spider-Man?”

Your face contorted, eyes squinting. “In what way?”

“Whaddya mean ‘in what way’?”

You frowned. “I mean, economically and politically speaking, he’s kind of a disturbance, dontcha think?”

Do you even like Spider-Man? Has Jay been misconstruing everything?

Did he technically kidnap you?

“He’s, like, more effective than other law enforcement, but that’s really a testament to him as a protector and how shit current law enforcement is,” you thought aloud. “I think he’s good.”

“Just good?

You frowned again.

“Aren’t you his friend?” you changed the subject. Even in your strange uneasiness, you didn’t find it hard to maintain steady eye-contact with the man. Given the fact that you’d cussed him out using all swears under the sun while looking him straight in the eye.

Jay feigned surprise. “Yeah, he is. How do you know that?”

The man watched as your bottom lip was taken under your teeth. “He came by last night.”

Jay quirked a brow.

There was a pulse of silence between you two.

Not quite comfortable, but not exactly hostile.

Other than the sound of soft breathing, seagulls squawking and people laughing in the distance, and sea waves crashing against the sandy shore, it was completely silent.

Dare Jay say, a nice moment.

“Jay, come play football with us!”

That’s right.

Every time they’d go to the beach, Jay would play football with the boys.

He wanted to play.

But he also wanted to show you up in your sand-city competition.

As he constructed another sand skyscraper, Jay slowly looked up. His eyes met with yours. You gave him a sharp nod, as if to say, ‘Go ahead.’

The man sighed.

Dusting his sandy hands off, Jay rose to his feet.

“I’m not done here, by the way,” he remarked as he passed your crouched form. “I can still make a better city than you.”

Jay felt a glob of sand flicked at his leg, he knew that the feeling was mutual.

Jay lost control of his spider-like abilities sometimes.

His fingers would stick implacably to papers if he wasn’t careful, he’d turn a door handle mindlessly and break it with his inhuman strength, or be acutely aware of the most miniscule of all dust specks flying close to someone’s face.

Sometimes, he’d use those abilities to his advantage.

Like right now.

Jay wasn’t cheating!

Just making use of what his body can do.

Fast reflexes to dodge those that would charge at him head-on, incredible (in a human way) running speed, and probably the greatest throws, like, ever.

When Jake Sim passed the red-brown ball in his direction, who was he to not use those spider reflexes and catch it with larger-than-life precision? As his eyes scoped around for who to pass to, he found the perfect person. Preparing, he raised his arm, squinting for accuracy. At once, he hurled the football.

Except, he found that he’d lost control of just how much strength he was putting into the throw.

At top speed, it began shooting through the air, its pointed tip charging like a missile. As if it was in slow motion, gravity dragged the leathery ball toward the sandy ground. Like a rocket torpedo, the football flung straight into the elaborate city of sand sculpted by your very hands.

If it was any normal, human-strength throw, only a portion of the sand-city would be destroyed.

But because Jay had an obscene amount of strength, the ball not only destroyed the entire city, but dug so harshly into the sand that it exploded it– debris-like chunks of sand just bursting everywhere. And especially all over you and your pretty yellow sundress.

The earth must have stopped spinning, the sun shedding a single ray like a stagelight in a theater over your now frozen figure. It wasn’t just Jay’s super hearing senses. It was like all sound at this bustling beach died out in an instant, zeroing in you.

You turned your head slowly. Your expression was completely vacant, but that spoke volumes. There was sand all over your face, so with a willful arm, you wiped all of it in a sharp swipe.

Even though he was several meters away from you across the beach, and even though there was no way of telling who threw the ball, Jay could feel your stone gaze right at him. You took a deep breath.

Jay ran to you.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “I didn’t realize that it– the ball– was going your way– I–”

Everyone was ready to hear you shout your lungs out at Jay. In fact, Jay braced himself for the onslaught of profanities and obscenities that would be rightfully spewed at him.

But there was no yelling.

You breathed through your nose before rising to your feet and dusting off your sandy dress.

You looked at him.

“Thanks a lot, Jay.” There was a sliver of a smile spreading on your lips, but the way your teeth so clearly clenched together told a different story. You squeezed your eyes shut to conceal your bubbling anger, but you simply couldn’t take it. “It always seems like you ‘didn’t realize’ something all the time. But I’m not really surprised anymore.”

With that, flicked a piece of sand off your shoulder before snatching up your tote bag that was perched against the parasol and turning on your heel.

All Jay could do was watch your retreating back, football in hand, as you walked in the opposite direction away from him to the parking lot.

He dug his nails into the leathery ball. Tearing his eyes away from you, Jay was about to turn back to his friends.

Except, a massive crash erupted through the air.

With his spider-like reflexes, Jay snapped his head up. From behind the high-rise buildings and tall structures emerged a giant shadow.

Almost immediately, in the distance, Jay heard cars honking, wheels screeching against the road, and screaming. There were mini fires in the distance from cars crashing.

As people scurried for their lives, the car smoke cleared, revealing a greater shadow in the distance.

Six claws, seemingly mechanical and woven together with many tiny wires. Two antennas extending from the crown of the figure. Metallic body, with red and flashing accents.

Shit.

He knew exactly who that was.

Doctor Discotheque.

Didn’t he fight him a week ago?

“Where’s Spider-Man?!”

Jay clenched his fist.

He had to find a way to get into his hero suit without anyone seeing. Speaking of…

The man whipped his head around to where his friends were. Like everyone else, they were running for their lives. At least they were going in the opposite direction.

Clenching his fist again, Jay was ready to charge straight up to the supervillain, but his dark eyes incidentally caught onto the frozen figure of none other than you. You were completely frozen in your spot, unmoving as you gawked at the incredible size of the villain.

Damnit, [Name], Jay sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t abnormal for people to freeze in the face of danger, but he never thought it would be you.

Shooting a web from his wrist, Jay retrieved a stray towel. In what was only a fraction of a second, he threw the towel over him before he changed into his Spider-Man suit. Fixing his mask, he discarded the towel.

The ground rumbled under his feet as Doctor Discotheque’s gigantic body terrorized the streets.

Jay’s feet immediately began moving, running toward your direction. As he approached her, he shot a sticky white web, sticking to your clothes back and effectively yanking you right into him. The hero threw you over his shoulder with an arm around your waist, and began running the other direction.

When you didn’t react, Jay gave a pat to your ass, the way a parent would do to their infant.

“Oi, [Name]!” Jay propelled himself off the sandy ground, discharging a few webs to allow him to swing.

“S-Spider-Man?!” Finally, you snapped out of your dazed state. “What’s– What was that?!”

Jay tightened his grasp around you as he began climbing up a building. By now, he was far from where Doctor Discotheque was. Good for your safety, but not good for his own crime-fighting.

“What, that big thing?” He felt you nod. “That’s just my good pal Doctor Discotheque.”

His tone was far too easygoing, and you audibly gulped.

“Relaaaaax, Angel,” Jay swung to another building. “He’s just a little villain. I beat him twice already. Nothin’ for ya to worry yer pretty head about about.”

“But he’s huge! And, you’re–”

Jay gave your ass another pat. “Just trust me on this, Baby.”

Finally, you reached the destination Jay had planned for you– the underground subway station. It was far enough from all the commotion for it to be calm, but just safe enough.

Jay placed you down. Despite all his reassurance, your face was twisted with concern.

You squeezed his shoulder, lips jutting out into a frown.

“I told ya already,” Jay knocked on your head. “Don’t worry about me.”

When you wouldn’t stop frowning, Jay flexed his bicep, placing your hand on it. With his hand over you, he squeezed his firm bicep.

“Ya feel that muscle?” you nodded slowly. “I’m strong. Spider-Man is strong.”

You stared at him.

“So you don’t hafta worry about me.”

Granted, Jay was talking to you the same way that he would talk to a crying six-year-old, but hey, it’s the principle of it!

“Just…” you took a deep breath. “Be careful.”

Jay unknowingly grinned. “Yeah, yeah.”

There was a pulse of silence between you two.

You looked up at him, with nearly glossy and wide eyes. You bit your lip.

“Before you go…” you murmured something under your breath. Abruptly, you grabbed Jay’s masked face, bringing it down so that he was eye-level to you. You pressed a quick peck to his cheek, before pulling back immediately. “Just… Don’t do anything dumb.”

Jay stared at you, blinking a few times to absorb everything. He swallowed on his dry throat, licking his lips. Another wide grin spread over his face.

“Of course, Gorgeous.”

Okkkayyy….

So maybe Jay was a bit of a liar.

According to the supervillain himself, Doctor Discotheque got access to some high-tech science shit and now had this supermassive mechanical body to control.

Just great.

Spider-Man was no wimp. He fought with all his might and was actually quite effective. Effective enough to damage Doctor Discotheque to the point that he ran away and yelled, “Damn you, Spider-Man!”

The only issue was that Doctor Discotheque was a little too strong for Jay to handle unprepared.

The night was completely silent now. That is, if you didn’t count the police sirens and helicopters flying overhead, reporting on the incident.

There was an undoubted hush that fell over the city. The supervillain hadn’t done anything that was crisis-causing, but he was an unequivocal threat. According to the police reports, three people had died, while an entire block and a half of important infrastructure, including parts of the beach, had been subject to damage. The news, after collecting data, reported that quantitatively, 67% of citizens felt unsafe and were fearful of what was to come. Indeed, there was a threat.

And even worse, Spider-Man was injured.

Doctor Discotheque wasn’t lying when he said that he had “some high-tech science shit,” because one of his tentacle-like claws managed to stab Jay’s thigh. It was nothing fatal, but it was certainly debilitating.

“Ah– Shit.” Jay had to resort to climbing the walls instead of swinging around buildings. Before he entered his apartment complex, he made sure to tie a piece of cloth around his bleeding wound and change back to his civilian clothes.

When he cracked open his apartment door, he was surprised when you bombarded him with questions.

“Where the hell were you?” The you that Spider-Man knew was vastly different from the you that Jay Park knew. “We were all so worried– Shit– No one saw you, like, at all, at the beach– and you weren’t responding to any texts or calls– and–”

Jay blinked.

“What were you doing all this time? You could have been killed, or injured!-- or– It doesn’t matter– Where have you been all this time and why haven’t you been responding to any of us, or–”

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Look! Even your brother’s worried sick!”

Jay looked over at Wonnie, who was eating chips (and getting crumbs all over) and watching TV, completely unbothered.

“I, um,” Jay stared at you. Quick! How was he going to get out of this one? “I was– I was at my internship. We.. uh, We were studying infrastructure… as a result of the… Incident.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Was the studying so interesting that you couldn’t respond to any texts or calls?”

Jay fumbled with his phone that was deeply squashed in his pants pocket. “It was dead.”

It was now that he noticed the way that you were circling him, inspecting him like a hawk. It was a good thing that he changed into his civilian-wear, or else you'd see the cuts and bruises all over his arms, as well as the dirt and debris that had gotten into and onto his hero suit.

“Oh my god, are you bleeding?!”

Jay looked down, and lo and behold, there’s blood dripping down his thigh, creating a puddle of dark red below him.

Maybe next time, he shouldn’t use a tiny piece of cloth to tie up such an absurd wound like that.

“Oh. I am.”

“?!”

And that’s how Jay found himself sprawled across the bathroom floor with one ear pressed against the bathroom door, listening to your voice on the other side.

“Is it bad?”

“Yeah, there’s blood everywhere.”

“?!”

He finally fessed up and admitted that he got stabbed in the thigh (with an appropriate excuse, of course). You were just going to leave it at that, snarkily saying, “Hope you know how to fix up a stab wound,” but when he responded with, “I don’t,” you grumbled under your breath and forced him to take a shower. You weren't exactly excited to see him naked and so bare (his thigh!) and neither was he, so your direction was all told behind a bathroom door.

It was a tedious task having to listen to you.

But you were a tedious person.

Look for things in the wound like glass shards, disinfect it with alcohol, patch it up.

Except he couldn’t get past the second step.

“Shit, shit, shiiiiit,” Jay hissed. Rubbing alcohol burned.

“Park?” your voice resounded behind the bathroom door. “Are you okay in there?”

He fumbled with the various medical equipment. “Y-Yeah– It just kinda hurts.”

There was a silence.

“I’m fine.”

Behind the door, he heard you sigh.

“Put on some clothes, Park.”

“W-What?”

“You’re so fuckin’ incompetent that I need to help you. Put on some clothes so I can get in there, will ya?”

Now the two of you were sitting on the floor.

“Ow! That really hur–”

“Stay still then!” “I can’t when it’s burni– Ah.. Agh! It hurts!”

The wound was a lot worse than you had thought. Jay said that one of the interns dropped a saw knife on his lap, causing it to stab him. Honestly, you did not buy that story but it was the best he had so you just accepted it.

Unfortunately, this stab wound looked a lot worse than someone just accidentally dropping a sharp object onto his lap.

The two of you were now sitting on the cold bathroom floor, you in between his legs. Jay had shorts rolled all the way up, revealing his injured thigh. Other than the occasional hiss of pain, annoyed murmur, and sound of Wonnie’s TV channel in the background, it was completely silent. The early-summer night was only beginning to darken. If the night of the party was discounted, then this may have been the closest that you two have ever been.

Your delicate fingers against his skin, Jay sunk his teeth into his lip. Your glasses were at the very tip of your nose, almost falling off your face. He wanted to push them up badly, but decided against it. After all, you and him were not friends. Barely even acquaintances.

Well, you and him, a.k.a. you and his civilian form, a.k.a. you Jay Park.

You and Spider-Man seemed to be great friends.

He wondered why you hated him so much. You got along well with Spider-Man just fine, and Spider-Man was probably the most free version of Jay there was. Was it just the very essence of Jay Park?

Thinking back to what happened earlier at the subway station, you were sweet. Too sweet. The sweetest that he’d ever seen.

Jay never thought that he’d look into your eyes and see genuine worry, concern.

The way you held onto him, those pouty lips, gleaming eyes that looked up at him like he was some god.

Jay’s lips parted unconsciously as he watched the way you were currently working between his legs.

It would be a lie to say that Jay wasn’t, to some degree, attracted to you. He’s always been. Your [H/C] hair, those glasses that would delicately lay on your nose. Your mean words, nasty glares, critical eyes, and most strikingly, your wicked intelligence– they should have made him completely terrified of you, but for some reason, it only made him more attracted to you.

Too many guilty nights were spent thinking about you, contemplating what he should say to you the next day to elicit a reaction.

Sometimes, at night, his mind would wander about what would have happened that night at the soccer mixer if Wonnie hadn’t called him. What would have happened between him and you?

And when you kissed him earlier, he felt like a little schoolboy talking to a girl for the first time. Why was he so giddy?

He bit his tongue as you finished off your bandaging job.

He was going crazy.

Yes, you did indeed need to ask Jay Park for help again. Normally that would be embarrassing enough. But now it was another level of embarrassment.

A few days had passed since the incident at the beach, and someone had the wonderful idea to have a frat party. In the middle of the week. Which was what you (and by association, Jay) were getting ready for.

You and Jay agreed that you both would be taking your car to the party, but under the condition that you went in at appropriately-spaced times to avoid misunderstandings.

Jay’s version of “getting ready” was literally nothing. He wore what he always wore to parties. On the other hand, you actually dressed up.

The only issue was you didn’t have your friends with you, who would usually help you get ready.

Which was why you were now embarrassingly asking Jay Park to zip up your tiny red dress.

“C-Can you– just–” you had to cross your arms to keep the thin spaghetti straps from falling off your shoulders. Even so, in front of him, you felt like you were practically spilling out of the dress. “Can you just zip up my dress?”

How embarrassing.

Jay agreed to it with a silent nod, but you could feel his judgment boring into the back of your head.

You felt his large hands ghost over your lower back before stopping.

“Move your hair.”

When you didn’t respond, Jay repeated himself. “Move your hair. I can’t zip it up if your hair’s in the way.”

“O-Oh.”

How embarrassing.

When he was done, you instinctively turned around to face him. When you were with your friends and they zipped up your dress, you’d turn around and ask, “How do I look?”

Unfortunately, Jay wasn’t one of those friends.

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment when Jay gave a questioning look, ready to turn around and scurry off. However, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes clung to your dress-clad body, and especially the way that he gulped harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

You couldn’t stop the self-satisfied curve forming on your lips.

“What?!” was the simultaneous reaction of Jay and you.

Inevitably, when you arrived at the party, you parted ways to go to your own friends.

“I don’t know how you could hate him,” a friend chuckled into your ear as you hung out in the billiard area, drinks in hand.

“Hate who?”

Another friend nudged you. “Y’know.. Jay.”

You grimaced. “What about him?”

The friend laughed. “Have you seen his arms?”

“No, I haven’t.” You frowned.

Your friends shrieked, giving you a slap on the arm. “Christ, he’s, like, fine as fuck– oh my god, the lip piercing–”

The bespectacled you frowned again, taking a sip of your canned beer. “If you like him so much, you should tell him. His big ass head might like the attention.”

Your friends exchanged looks.

“Nah, I can’t do that.”

At that point, you weren't even paying attention, too focused on the pool game happening in the room. “Why not?”

“Because everyone knows that Jay Park is yours.”

“WHAT?”

Jay Park?

Yours?

?????

“He’s not-”

Your friend threw an arm around your shoulder. “Look, babe, we all understand. It’s pretty much an unwritten rule that Jay Park is reserved for you and you are reserved for Jay Park.”

You scowled, taking another long sip of your beer, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your neck felt uncharacteristically warm. “But, we’ve never even shown interest in each other!”

Another friend put a hand on your shoulder. “Everyone sees the way he looks at you.”

“But that’s just him!” you crossed your arms. “I do not like him!”

There’s cheering in the other room, which you momentarily poked your head out of the room to take a look at. Meanwhile, your friends shared a look.

“[Name], Sweetie,” they smiled when you came back. “Remember when he got his first girlfriend? You were glaring daggers at her.”

“Because she was an objectively bad person!”

“Then why were you crying into my shoulder for hours because you randomly ‘felt sad’?”

“Because I was randomly feeling sad!”

“Right…”

Your friend sighed. “You guys are crazily oblivious.”

You spluttered.

Likewise, Jay was having a similar dilemma.

“Dude, I don’t care if you think [Name] is hot,” the dark-haired man crossed his arms.

His friends stared at him. “Uh. I think you do.”

Jay’s nose scrunched. “I don’t.”

“She always looks like she’s gonna eat you up–”

Jay leaned back on the sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Yeah, which is why–”

“And you always look like you want her to eat you up.”

“That’s not true.” Okay, so maybe Jay Park knew that it was true. When you called him stupid or cursed at him, it may or may not have been a turn-on. He’s not weird. “She doesn’t even call me by my name.”

“Right, [Name] exclusively calls you Park.”

Another friend chimed in. “She wants your last name!”

“Wha–”

Another one spoke up. “She calls you by your last name because she’s waayy into taking it.”

“Okay, okay,” Jay muttered. “But even if I did like her, I don’t think she’s like me back.”

“We never said anything about you liking her…”

“I’m leaving.”

He didn’t end up leaving. In fact, he and his friends ended up in the hallway bedroom along with an entire group of other people. Including you and your own friends.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

The moment that that fuck-faced, son of a bitch Jake Sim reached for the glass Heineken bottle and gave it a spin, Jay knew he was doomed. Because the bottle landed on you yourself. And the mischievous look on his face told the room everything they had to know.

“[Name], I dare you to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with Jay!”

That’s how Jay Park found himself sitting face-to-face with you in a stuffy closet.

Awkward.

Outside, you could hear the muffled voices of your friends, giggling amongst themselves. It was deathly silent in the closet, so quiet that Jay’s ears rung with static. Despite this, your eyes were not shy; steady and unwavering eye-contact was always the way for Jay and you, no matter the situation.

“Are they gonna kiss?!” someone whispered not-so-loudly on the other side of the door. You, staring dead into his eyes, cocked a brow, your lip twitching.

“Six minutes!” someone shouted outside.

Jay was uncomfortable. You probably were, too.

How could he lighten up the mood?

Well, he’s comfortable with you when he’s Spider-Man, and vice versa. What’s something Spider-Man would say?

“You look great tonight.”

Good one, Spider-Man.

Your brows furrowed together, your entire face scrunching. Just as Jay was about to pray to the sky for the ground to swallow him up, you opened your mouth.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, and for the first time since you got into the closet, averted your gaze from his. Your eyes dropped, before using your foot to nudge him. “Nice socks, Park.”

That’s right, tonight he was wearing… Spider-Man socks.

Oh man, he looked like a weirdo.

Jay chewed on his bottom lip.

When he glanced over at you, for the first time ever, instead of feeling indignation or irritation, he felt something adjacent to admiration.

Jay had seen you for every one of your embarrassing phases. And when he looked at you now, those dark and curly mascara-laden lashes, glossy pink lips, and shimmery eyeshadow lining your eyes, he only realized then how gorgeous you were. You had always been attractive to him, and he’d always known that. But now you were seriously beautiful.

There was no doubt that you put effort into your appearance. He was stupid, and he knew he was, to indulge in the idea that, perhaps, you dressed up for him.

On your end, your heart was hammering in your chest. Which was weird. Because that only happened when you were nervous. And what was there to be nervous about when it came to Jay Park?

“Five minutes!”

Your friends’ words rang in your head.

Was Jay Park really that attractive?

He had honey-gold skin, strong and sharp features, tousled dark hair, and a pierced lip. If you looked past his smug expression when he got what he wanted or that slightly-pathetic look in his eyes when he didn’t, you supposed that he could be attractive.

You glanced at him. His distracted gaze, pointed at the carpeted floor below their feet, was almost daunting.

Was there something between you and Jay, something that neither of you knew about?

If someone asked you that question years ago, you would have punched them square in the face for asking such a dumb question.

But now you didn’t know.

You would be lying if you said that you never thought of Jay Park in a different light. As much as you hated to admit it, there were times where you questioned your attraction to him. It wasn’t like he was going around charming you with physical affection.

Instead, it was small actions.

Rolling his sleeves up, his large hands littered with rings, the bruises along his knuckles and splinters and cuts along his fingers because of his engineering workshops, licking his lips, that little side smirk he’d do when satisfied with himself, when he’d quirk his brow at you, when he’d correct people, when he’d speak academically, when he’d help people in class.

You were so immersed in thoughts that you didn't notice the way Jay was outright staring at you.

You were only pulled out of it when you felt a finger push up your glasses.

Surprised, you jerked back, eyes looking up at a just-as-surprised Jay.

“I’m sorry,” Jay blurted almost immediately. “Your glasses– they were falling down your nose, so I–”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your ears prickle with heat. Sheepishly, you pushed up your glasses, holding onto the rims as a way to hide your embarrassed face.

“I’m so sorry,” Jay rambled. “That’s so weird and I shouldn’t have and–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted. You pushed up your glasses again.

Another silence fell over you, this time, even more tense. Until Jay broke the silence.

“How did we even start hating each other?”

You cracked a small smile. “You don’t remember?

“No, I do,” Jay said. “I just feel like there were so many opportunities for us to become friends. We just never did.”

“I guess.”

There’s another pulse of silence.

“I don’t hate you, by the way,” you mumbled.

“You don’t?”

“I mean, at least I don’t think so.”

“Then I don’t think I hate you either.”

“Thanks.”

Jay almost laughed. “‘Thanks?’”

You shrugged.

Your eyes met, staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments before a bashful expression spread across Jay’s face. “Y’know, I stopped talking to Taehyun after you yelled at me.”

Your lips parted. “Why?”

Jay scoffed, his brows knitting together in an attempt to explain himself.

“I dunno. I guess you..” he trailed off. Again, those wide and glossy eyes that looked at him. This time, though, instead of gazing at him as if he was some god, you watched him as if he was a book, trying to read him. “You beat some sense into me.”

“Three minutes!” someone shouted. From outside, there were giggling and fake kissing noises.

You two shared a small laugh at your friends.

The remaining 3 minutes were quiet.

College student stress was no joke. That coupled with a pinch of sexual and housing frustration, and the result is a drunk you.

You really didn’t mean to drink so much tonight, but everything seemed to become a much bigger problem when on a dance floor next to a whole bunch of sweaty bodies, so why not drink your problems away?

Currently, you were on top of a guy, who was equally as drunk as you, in the guest bedroom of the frat house. Tangling your hands in his hair, you smashed your lips against his. Whoever you were kissing was a messy kisser– He shoved his tongue into your mouth, aggressively exploring every crevice. His kisses left your lips swollen and pouty, pink lip gloss leaving pretty residue at the corner of his lips. Cold metal pressed into your bottom lip– it must have been a piercing. It should have hurt, and it did, but the foreign and cold pain only made the kiss even better.

Meanwhile, his hands roamed.

Would it be a good time now to mention that the guy was Jay Park-- just that both of you were too drunk to even notice each other? For the second time.

Jay's large, ring-covered fingers gripped your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. With each passionate kiss, he pulled your hips against his, before sliding his hands down to your ass and giving it a squeeze, earning a squeal from you.

You finally pulled away from each other only to catch a breath of air. You, with puffy lips and blown-out eyes, shifted in the man��s lap; you shoved your knee between his thighs, while your hands grasped his hair to tilt his head, giving you access to his neck.

Pressing wet kisses along his honey-gold skin, you took in his woody scent. Your fingers, laced harshly in his soft locks, pulled on his hair.

“Fuuuuuck,” Jay groaned.

You gave his hair another harsh tug, pressing your lip directly against his neck– right at the crook where his jaw met his neck. You swiped your tongue over his skin. Grinning to yourself, you graze your teeth against him, before sinking them in and giving his plush skin a soft suck. He gasped.

“You like that?” you breathed in his ear. He shuddered, nodding quickly.

Unsatisfied, you sank your teeth into his skin again, sucking harshly this time. “I wanna hear you fuckin’ say it.”

“Yes– shiiit–” your lips moved to the crook of his neck. Jay threw his head back, sighing loudly. “Fuck, I like that.”

Even under the dim bedroom light, when you pulled away,you could admire the red-purple marks left on his skin, along with the slight shimmery sheen of lip gloss left. Just when he thought it was over, you ran your tongue along the bruises that you left, pressing the sensitive skin.

You ran a pedicured hand up his chest, before pushing him down so that he was lying flat on the soft bed. Currently, you were completely straddling his thigh, so you threw a leg around him so that you would be straddling his hips.

In your drunken stupor, you couldn't make out his features, other than a sharp nose and dark hair. Jay's hands came up to grip your hips once again, rocking yours against his just slightly and letting out a desperate cry.

You ran your nail along Jay's neck, admiring the marks you left. You grasped his chin, shaking it side-to-side. “Uh-uh. Not until I say so.”

Yanking the hem of his hoodie, you pulled it up, revealing a toned and tanned stomach. You graze your nails against his skin, biting your lip.

“Raise your arms,” you slurred. He sat up and complied, so you pulled his hoodie over his head. With him still sat up, you pulled Jay close so that your chests were pressed right against each other.

Once again, you smashed your lips against his, engaging in another heated make-out session. Your nails dug into Jay's biceps, while his hands roamed your body– squeezing your ass, grazing your thighs, and tugging at the thin spaghetti straps of your dress.

“Take it off,” he whined against your lips, pawing at your dress. “Take it off, please.”

You chuckled, amused. You grabbed his chin. “What did I say earlier?”

“Please, please, please,” he begged, completely ignoring what you said.

You slammed your lips against each other, pulling him by his face. The room was filled with the sound of lips colliding with one another, and occasional whines and pleas.

Both far too intoxicated to focus on anything other than your desire, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps and laughter approaching the guest bedroom.

“And I was like–” the door clicked open. “OH MY GOD–”

Why does this keep happening?

The last time Jay went to a frat party, he nearly hooked up with you and got cockblocked one way or another. Last time, it was his kid brother. And now his friends.

As he ran out of the frat house (of course grabbing a water bottle and chugging it to sober up), searching for you, Jay couldn’t help but feel a harboring sense of disappointment and shame. His cheeks burned against the cool night air, his eyes glossy and watery with the initial surprise and now, shame. He tried to blink back the tears that were beginning to line his eyes, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

When two of your friends bursted through the doorway, the two of you were completely frozen. Jay was too drunk to even comprehend what was happening, but when he heard “[Name],” everything came back to him.

You didn’t seem to realize it was him either until you heard his name.

And the moment that you did, your face grew red, morphing and twisting. As crystal tears began to fill your eyes, you began hitting and punching Jay. Maybe he was too drunk to understand, or you were too drunk to generate coherent words. But he couldn’t understand anything that you said.

Not until you let out a loud sob, yelling, “I hate you, Jay Park.”

You jumped off of him, running out of the room, pushing past the group of friends that had formed a mini-crowd around the doorway.

You must be disgusted with him. He was a fool to think that he could even have a chance with you.

Humiliated and disgusted with himself, Jay watched as you ran off into the night. His heart sank to his knees, an uneasy and nauseating feeling settling in his stomach. As his heart calmed down, Jay lowered his head in humiliation, unable to even face himself.

You said that you didn't hate him, but you surely must now.

Just as he was about to run back into that frat house and drink himself dead, he realized one very crucial thing: where the fuck was you going?

You were drunk. And crying. Even if you hailed a taxi, there was no way of knowing that you'll be safe.

Sucking in a sharp breath from his heavy breath, Jay looked down at his hands.

God, he was so ashamed of himself. He would love– and truly, love– to go drink until he was shitfaced drunk again. There’s no way that he could look anyone, and especially you, in the eye after this. He felt disgusting. Nasty. He must be a repulsive person.

But there was no way in hell that he was going to let a drunk and vulnerable woman run around the city late at night.

Which was why Jay found himself pulling the very woman that crushed his soul close under a street lamp.

Of course, as Spider-Man.

Luckily, you hadn’t gotten in a taxi yet. He found you sitting under a street light, crying. His heart ached, wrenching in his chest.

Standing over you, he extended a hand.

“Let me take you home, Angel.”

Even with all the shame that befell over him, Jay was gentle with you. Even though you were the source of all his troubles, he couldn’t bring himself to treat you as anything less. In his heart, you were still the you that he knew (and loved).

Crouching down, he pushed your hair out of your face, running a thumb over your wet cheek to wipe away your tears. Patting your head, he couldn’t help but coo at your pouty face.

He didn’t like to see you cry like this.

When Jay cupped your face, you grabbed his wrist, nuzzling your cheek into his warm palm.

“Please,” you whispered.

And who was he to refuse you?

You cried into his neck the whole way home. In a way, Jay felt like a fraud. The same person that ran you away from was the one holding you. If you knew who Spider-Man was, you’d run, too.

“Don’t wanna go inside,” you murmured into his ear once they arrived at his apartment.

Jay stroked your hair gently. “Why not?”

“Because,” you sobbed. “Because— it’ll r-remind me of him.”

The hero frowned. “Of who?”

You cried harder. “Jay—“ you stopped yourself, only holding onto him tighter.

“[Name],” Jay whispered against the shell of your ear. “How ‘bout I stay with you out here?”

You sniffled, glassy eyes shining in the bluish moonlight. You nodded your head profusely. Much to your surprise, Jay launched the two of you up onto the roof of the apartment complex. When you looked at him sheepishly, he simply muttered, “I go here when I want to clear my head.”

Ten minutes later, all of which were just filled with you sobbing in your drunken glory, neither of you wanted to leave your current position: Jay sitting cross-legged and you on his thigh so that he could see your face. The whole time, as you cried, Jay stroked your hair, occasionally whispering a few words of reassurance in your ear.

As you calmed down, Jay cupped your cheek. You must have been beginning to sober up, because you resisted his touch, pulling away to hide your face.

“[Name],” he said against the shell of your ear, delicate fingers grasping your chin. “[Name], look at me.”

Rich from someone who could barely look you in the eyes right now.

“Nooo,” you whined, bringing a stray strand of hair to cover your eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

Jay cracked a grin under his mask. “What’s there to be embarrassed about?” you didn't respond. “Yer embarrassed about crying in front of Spider-Man?”

“Am not!” you shot at him, but the way you continued to hide your face told Jay everything he had to know. “H-Hey!”

Jay forced your face to turn to his. He ran his thumb across your cheek, caressing your puffy and tear-stained skin. “Talk to me, Gorgeous.” Your lips pursed into a pout. “What happened? Did someone do something to make you cry? Do I gotta fight someone?”

Yeah, yourself.

He knew the answer to that.you were going to cry again, wail about how much you hated Jay Park, how disgusted and horrified you were with Jay Park, how it was him, that bastard of a man, that made you cry. Jay knew he wasn’t emotionally prepared for what you were going to say, but he wanted to hear it from your lips for some reason. He would at least gain some closure, even if it meant rubbing salt into the wound before he was going to inevitably beat himself up over it later.

But to his surprise, you shook your head.

“No one did anything,” you sniffled.

“B-But–”

You looked down at your hands sadly. “It was my fault.”

How could it be your fault? Jay was certain that it was his.

“I’m such a bitch,” you breathed. “He… H-He didn’t even do anything– I– I wanted him– so bad– But I pushed him away…”

Jay tightened his hold around you. “What… What are you talking about?”

“If I talk about it, I’ll start crying again,” you murmured. When Jay gave your head a soft pat, whispering, “I won’t make fun of ya if you do,” into your ear, you took a deep breath. You turned over your shoulder to gaze at him. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone though.”

It wasn’t like Jay heard you say that though.

Because he might have been too fucking enraptured by you.

The yellow-marble moon shone behind her, giving you an ethereal backlit glow. Even so, the lights of the bustling city reflected off the sparkling luster of tears collecting in your wide eyes. Your hair was endearingly disheveled, and your nose and ears were getting sensitive from the cold night air. You were probably the loveliest person he ever-

No. He should stop.

Jay extended a pinky finger. “Promise.”

You sucked in another deep breath, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

“Me and Park… We got drunk and almost…” you trailed off, hoping that he would get what you were trying to say. He hummed, signaling that he did. You opened your mouth to continue, but frustrated, shove your face into your hands, letting out a whimper. “And then… our friends walked in on us– And– I just– Felt so embarrassed.”

Embarrassed.

That word stung.

Your eyes began to quell, and the wet sniffles started again. “I got angry, I got so– Fucking angry– and I just began yelling and h-hitting him–” you cut yourself off with a sob, to which Jay squeezed your hand.

He let you cry into his shoulder.

“He– He–” you sobbed. “He looked so hur– hurt. A-And that’s why I-I’m crying!”

Jay sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He urged you on, rubbing circles on your back.

You used the back of your hand to wipe your tears. “J-Jay–” His ears perked up at the sound of his name. You almost never called him by his first name. “Jay-fucking-Park makes me feel so-”

Jay braced himself.

“-weird. I-I thought I hated him… B-But–” you squeezed Jay’s hand– “I…. I think I.. I…Ugh!”

You smashed your wet face into Jay’s shoulder in frustration. In his complete and utter bewilderment (you truly didn’t hate him?) Jay let out an airy chuckle. Feeling his chest rumble, you groaned, giving him a smack.

“Y-You said you wouldn’t l-laugh!”

Jay stopped, giving your head another pat. “Sorry, sorry. Ya said that Jay makes you feel weird? Whaddya mean by that?”

You ran a hand through your hair. “Tha- That’s the problem: I don’t know!”

You looked up at him helplessly, grappling onto his wrist. “Help me, Spider-Man!”

Jay let out another airy chuckle. “I mean, how do ya feel around him?”

You glared at him incredulously. “H-He– I normally d-don’t feel anything!-- But re-recently I feel… Hot.”

“Hot?”

“Like, like I’m about to b-burst!”

Jay studied your face. “Do… Do you just hate him?”

“I-It’s not hate!”

“Then I don’t know!”

“Spiiiider-Maaaan!”

He didn’t want to say it. Even suggesting it was probably too emotionally-wrecking for the two of you.

“Do you… have a crush on him then?”

You flopped over him.

“?!”

With your body thrown over his shoulder, you shoved your face into your hands, letting out a drawn-out groan. There’s a pulse of silence.

Jay clenched his fists. There was a lot to take in. It could be the alcohol lingering in his system, or the overwhelming emotions he felt, but he genuinely could not process anything right now. He’ll sleep on it. All he knew was that he was on-edge.

You responded to his question with an inaudible, muffled, mumble.

From the way that you stilled against him, not even uttering a sound, it must have been an utterance to yourself, something that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

You clearly didn’t want to confront it, so he won’t force you to.

With little thought, Jay frowned while he traced shapes against your thigh, while you were still sniffling away. You two sat in a comfortable silence, soaking in the moonlight.

“Did you just draw a poop?” you blurted.

“Yeah,” Jay replied. His gloved finger, laced with mischief, traced another figure– consisting of two circles and a long tube.

“I don’t even want to say what you just drew!”

Jay snorted. Wrapping his arms around your hips, the hero hoisted you up momentarily, before lifting you off his shoulder and onto his lap. It was only when you let out a short squeak when he realized that your legs were now draped on either side of his hips.

He deadpanned.

This scene has happened before.

But instead of you pushing him away and punching his chest, you simply giggled, cold hands coming up to grab his masked face. Jay was startled when you pulled his face closer to yours.

“[Na–”

You tried to squeeze his cheek under the mask. When you felt plush, warm skin, your face lit up. “Woahhh!”

“Why’re you so surprised?”

You squished his masked cheek again. “You’re real!”

Another thing about you that enamored him: your naïvete and nearly innocent nature (but only sometimes, when you weren’t trying to kick his ass).

Jay chuckled. “Of course I am. Didja think that I was fake?”

You hummed. Then ,you cupped his cheek, before pedicured fingers slithered toward the juncture between his ear and neck. You fingered the cloth there. Jay’s breath caught in his throat.

“I’ve always wondered who’s behind this mask,” you thought aloud, caressing his neck. Your voice was low and light, like a whisper.

Jay felt like a middle school boy; he was getting nervous just by how close you were to him. He could smell your perfume, and even your breath against his neck. His heart hammered in his chest.

“You…” he rasped, voice deep. “You don’t wanna know.”

“But I do!” you giggled. “Do I know you in real life?”

“Err… I can’t answer that.”

“Awwww.”

You stared at him, before cracking another grin. “I don’t care who you are in real life. I’d still be your friend.”

Jay quirked a brow. He slunk his arm back around your waist, pulling you in closer.

“What if I was someone you hated?” he murmured. His dark eyes locked onto yours. Such an indulgent question. He was opening himself up to get hurt, but for some reason, he didn’t care.

“I wouldn’t care,” you breathed. “I’d love you either way.”

He knew that was a lie.

That night, you fell asleep in his arms up on the rooftop.

When he snuck back into his apartment, he placed you down on his bed, tucked you in, and whispered, “Good night, Pretty.”

The moment that he shut that bedroom door, Jay felt weak to his knees. His heart rate was picking up, nose suddenly becoming runny. He was in the middle of chanting, “Don’t cry,” to himself when the first tear rolled down his face.

A hand reached up to clasp his mouth tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t wake you or Wonnie up.

Jay didn’t know how long he cried sitting with his back against the bedroom door, but when he was done, he felt dizzy.

Jay went on an early morning patrol.

He didn’t get much sleep, but that sleep was indeed helpful in clearing his mind.

As he swung from building to building, occasionally scaring off criminals and sketchy people alike, his mind was occupied with thoughts about last night. It was hard to rationalize last night, and while it still was hard, the cool morning air kissed his cheeks just enough to give him the calm to think.

Okay, so, she doesn't think I’m disgusting, I didn’t actually do anything wrong, she was just embarrassed. I make her feel weird, and she might actually hate me. She says that she would still love me if I was… me, but like, “me” as in “Spider-Man” and the other “me” as me, Jay Park, and–

God, this was frustrating.

Even if you didn’t blame him, there was no way he could face you or any of your friends as Jay. His friends were blabbermouths. Everyone and their mothers probably knew by now the events that transpired.

His anguish built up. So much so that even when Jay was disarming a knife-bearing mugger, he couldn’t bring himself to make a few snarky remarks. His body was moving on its own, jumping around and soaring through the air. His mind was in a world of its own, running and drilling with little break, just mulling over all the possibilities.

He didn’t notice the time (three hours later) until all the delis and flower stores began opening up for the day. Plopping down onto one of the hedges on top of a building, Jay only realized how out-of-it he was; his legs were plagued with an abnormal ache, and his chest pushed out air using labored lungs.

Jay pulled off his mask, letting the cool air hit his face. He took a deep breath, peering down at the quiet bustle beginning to spread throughout the city.

He was about to sit there and contemplate, probably reflect on himself or simply relax.

However, an ear-splitting ringing sound cut through the air.

Beep beep!

“Shit,” he muttered, slipping his phone out of the seamless pocket attached to his suit’s leg. “Whaddya need, Wonnie?”

“Mayday, mayday!” his brother whisper-yelled into his ear. “Code red! I repeat: code red!”

“Why’re you whispering?” Jay jumped to his feet. He sensed the urgency in Wonnie’s voice on the other line, slipping back into his mask. “What happened?”

“I’m at school right now,” Wonnie hissed. “It’s your girlfriend!”

The man prepared for mobility, rubbing his wrists. “I don’t have a girlfrie– And why are you calling me at school right now?”

“Aghh!” Wonnie cried. “It’s [Name]!”

“Did something happen to her?” Jay’s voice immediately switched to a serious tone. He flexed his muscles, suddenly becoming hyper-alert of his surroundings. His eyes scanned the surrounding area.

Jay heard fumbling on the other side of the phone, presumably Wonnie almost getting caught by a teacher or something. “Okay, okay. Downtown– the skyscraper along the greenbelt– yes, that one! Doctor Discotheque; I think he’s hanging her!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jay grumbled.

He was on top of a retail store. If Jay’s urban design professor was correct, then there should be a big stretch of apartments in the next few hundred kilometers. In the center should be the CBD. The only issue was that those apartments were dense. If he wants to drill past them in time, then he would need to be quick.

With just his enhanced spider-sight, Jay could see all those hundred kilometers ahead, straight to the central business district. Doctor Discotheque was standing at the top of the downtown skyscraper, and apparently he ditched the massive mechanical body that the “high-tech science shit” gifted him. Instead, the supervillain wore a sleek spandex suit. Doctor Discotheque was laughing villainously, because next to him was a crane hanging right at the edge of the building. The silhouette that was dangling from the crane was you yourself.

Jay heaved.

Let’s fucking do this.

“Spider-Man did it better, by the way.”

“If you keep talking, I will drop you off the side of this building.”

You couldn’t even be surprised anymore. Somehow getting kidnapped by a supervillain was less outlandish than making out with you enemy twice.

This morning, when you were just starting to leave for class, the window shot open, revealing a goofy-looking villain in purple spandex that he totally didn’t rip off of Spider-Man. Seriously, it was the tackiest outfit ever. He had a sparkly panel as a recurring design motif and it seriously was not good.

Nowy ou were suspended 400 meters in the air, with your feet fastened to the lift of a construction crane. You crossed your arms over your chest.

You should be scared. You really should. For God’s sake, you were dangling upside down over a busy road from an unsteady crane on top of a building that was 400 meters tall.

But the sight of a supervillain wearing a sparkly suit was too unserious. If there was anything to be afraid of, it would be Doctor Discotheque’s little villain costume.

“Nice outfit, Sparkle Boy.”

And besides, you knew that Spider-Man would save you.

Doctor Discotheque ignored your not-so-subtle jab at his suit, too busy scanning the sky for a certain red and blue - clad superhero.

In fact, that really pissed you off.

How dare he, a sloppily-dressed, dilapidated-looking, old geezer, kidnap you and threaten your life? And when you tried to talk to him, he just ignored you? Such a poorly-designed supervillain. 2/10 from you.

“Hey!” you yelled from where you were dangling. “Hey, you! Purple Wurple!”

Doctor Discotheque ignored you again.

You huffed. “You motherfucker! How dare you ignore me!”

Nothing from him.

“Hey, answer me! Doctor Disgusting!”

Finally, the supervillain snapped his head at you.

“It’s Doctor Discotheque, not Doctor Disgusting,” he spat.

You snorted. “It’s a good thing you became a supervillain, and not a villain-namer, because wow, ‘Doctor Discotheque’ might be the worst deed you’ve ever committed.”

Doctor Discotheque narrowed his eyes at you, before a wide smirk spread across his face. “I had higher standards for Spider-Man.”

When you glared at him, he continued.

“I can’t believe he could date such a wretched person like you.”

“Date?”

“You seem more surprised at that than me kidnapping you,” Doctor Discotheque muttered. He observed your scrunched expression, his grin widening. “I saw you and Spider-Man getting cozy last night on the rooftop. Never knew that he would go for a woman as insufferable as you.”

“Hey, we’re not–”

“And, if you don’t shut your mouth,” the villain spoke through tight lips, “I’ll throw you off this building.”

Before you could retort, the man’s hand reached for the remote console that controlled the crane. Gloved hand palming the joystick, Doctor Discotheque let out a low chuckle, before giving it an experimental pull. Immediately, the lift of the crane shakily lowered.

“H-Hey–!”

He played around with the controls, philandering around as if it was some kind of children’s toy.

“You– You little bitch!” you, though shaky from the mobility, yelled. “F-Fuck you and your sp–sparkly spandex!

Doctor Discotheque let out another low chuckle, before pressing a button. You weren't sure about the mechanics of a crane remote console, but it started shaking the lift from side to side. The crane must have been old, because the parts were moving so shakily. The lift was quite literally rocking in the sky, swinging you around slowly.

“One more word from you, and I’ll be releasing you,” Doctor Discotheque mused. “And by the way, it’s not spandex. It’s lycra.”

You were seriously considering shutting up. Your stomach did flips now that you looked down at the vast expanse of the city below you. The sound of cars rushing across the road, as well as the distressed crowd that was now gathering under the skyscraper, police cars with their loud sirens, and camera shutters did not calm you in the slightest. It was a miracle that your glasses were still intact at this point.

And still, Spider-Man was nowhere in sight.

Wait.

Spider-Man.

Your eyes flickered toward the villain.

There must be a reason that Doctor Discotheque kidnapped you. Other than the fact that he was, in fact, a supervillain, there must be another reason for his evildoing.

Why would someone want to kidnap a broke college student, unless there was something to gain from it?

There truly was only one thing notable about Doctor Discotheque, other than his horrible costume. And it was that he had major beef with Spider-Man. Unfortunately for him, Doctor Discotheque let it slip that he thought you and Spider-Man were dating.

It was a perfect plan.

Use Spider-Man’s girlfriend against him.

The only issue was that Spider-Man had not yet arrived on the scene yet. Heck, no one even knew if he knew of the situation yet.

Doctor Discotheque wasn’t going to do anything to you. Not until Spider-Man made an appearance.

“Y’know, Doctor Disgusting,” you shouted. “You suck!”

Doctor Discotheque deadpanned. “Foolish woman! Did you not hear what I just said–”

“Drop me,” you demanded. You thrashed around, flailing your arms so that the rope fastening you to the lift shook. “Drop me, you fucking bitch! I dare you!”

Doctor Discotheque stilled. He said nothing, just simply grumbling something under his breath and dropping the remote control to the concrete ground.

You watched him, proud of yourself.

But there were bigger problems up ahead now.

Spider-Man was nowhere in sight. This maniac might actually do something to you if Spider-Man didn’t show up on time. With the size of this commotion– road blocks, traffic issues, a giant crowd pooling at the base of the skyscraper– it was no doubt that the spider-like hero should be on his way.

“Hey, fuckface!”

A familiar confident and charming voice cut through the air suddenly.

Lo and behold, it was the great Spider-Man.

“Spider-Man-!” you blurted, relief washing over you.

Doctor Discotheque let out a laugh. That laugh became a cackle, before he was howling. Except, it wasn’t really laughing out of amusement, but him pushing air from his chest to create a sound.

“So you’ve decided to show yourself, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque rasped. He snatched the crane remote control off the ground, and fiddled with the controls just enough to shake you. You let out a small shriek. “One wrong move and this little girlfriend of yours will be dropped.”

Spider-Man clenched his fists.

“So choose wisely,” the villain furbished the remote with his fingers. “Or you'll be toppling to your death in no-time.”

Jay had to be quick with this.

All eyes were on him, and you were genuinely endangered.

Doctor Discotheque’s main goal was and had always been to humiliate Spider-Man. Jay had no idea what types of things he had hidden up his sleeve, but if he was going far enough to endanger a civilian, it must be bad.

Like his name would imply, Doctor Discotheque had the ability to generate sounds that transpired the ordinary human sonic level. A.K.A. Doctor Discotheque had a loud voice.

An ability like that would be extremely dangerous, considering that large sound waves are capable of killing people. Except, Jay had a crucial piece of information, thanks to the invaluable research of Wonnie: Doctor Discotheque’s body was not suited for his own ability.

While Doctor Discotheque was capable of pushing air from his diaphragm and vibrating his vocal cords, his own ears could not take it. Usually, those with superhuman abilities would have different bodily functions to accommodate the harm that the abilities would have. For example, those with fire abilities would have cooler and fire-resistant bodies in order to sustain the aptitude. Unfortunately, Doctor Discotheque did not have that.

That meant that while Doctor Discotheque could do basically anything with his voice, he wouldn’t, because that would bring physical harm to his own self, too.

The only issue: if defeated, Doctor Discotheque might take on a “if I die, I’ll take everyone with me” attitude.

Jay had to be strategic.

“If you don’t attack, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque started. The villain sucked in a large breath, “I’ll destroy your eardrums!”

That last part was at least 90 decibels. Jay could tell by the way that Doctor Discotheque himself winced at the sound.

What a dumbass.

“I can’t believe I have to deal with you again, man.”

Jay shot a web to the water tanks behind Doctor Discotheque, thrusting him across the rooftop, which allowed him to extend his right leg in order to land a kick at the villain. The villain dodged his kick by stepping to the side. However, Jay’s lightning-fast reflexes saw that one coming, so he swerved his body to the right to attempt another kick. His elevated heel succeeded in scraping the crown of Doctor Discotheque’s head.

The villain stumbled backward, but continued to evade Jay. Shooting a web, the hero attempted to bring Doctor Discotheque to him, but he dodged it once again. Jay had to give him credit: he had pretty good reflexes.

Jay shot a web to the hedge the villain was next to, hoping to launch himself at him, but before he could, Doctor Discotheque landed a punch square on Jay’s nose.

“Ow! What the fuck, man?” Jay’s eyes watered at the impact. How embarrassing.

Jay continued his venture to wrap this guy in his webs, shooting multiple webs at once. A few of them landed, but Doctor Discotheque was able to dodge them.

“Come on, old man!” Jay grumbled. Finally, one of his webs effectively landed on the villain’s shoulder, allowing for Jay to grapple him toward him. Before Doctor Discotheque could react, the masked hero blasted him with a bunch of more webs, slathering him in those sticky white strings.

The supervillain struggled against Spider-Man’s iron grip. Even with the tight webs binding him, Jay could feel him suck in a deep breath, an indicator that he was about to utilize that loud voice of his.

If Jay didn’t move now, his eardrums might actually get bursted.

Jay jumped away from Doctor Discotheque, except he kept his webs attached to him so that his previous binding work would not be rendered useless. Jay whipped his head around, eyeing your dangling figure.

“Cover your ears!” he shouted, before doing so himself. Doctor Discotheque let out a shrill screech, and although the sound was only large enough to send a vibration through Jay’s body, that was because Jay had the aid of superhuman abilities.

Everything else around them? Absolutely not.

The glass of surrounding buildings shattered, while the metal crane that was dangling you shook profusely. You screamed.

Shit, shit, shit.

While Jay was distracted, Doctor Discotheque squirmed free of the webs, crawling to the remote console he dropped to the ground earlier.

“Let’s play with your girlfriend,” the villain glowered. With that, he began tinkering with the controls of the console, shaking you around on the lift. This time, though, he was literally pressing all the buttons, giving you little time to anticipate what was coming next. The movement of the crane was unadulterated, so you shrieked in fear.

“Are you gonna save her, Spider-Man?” Doctor Discotheque mocked.

Jay clenched his fists. It was a lot more important to save you before anything else. He could deal with this maniac later.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Spider-Man!” Much to his surprise, it was you yelling at him. “Don’t worry about me, just kick this lunatic’s ass!”

“How adorable!” Doctor Discotheque cooed.

Jay wasn’t about to let a civilian, much less you, be in a position of severe danger. But Doctor Discotheque has been getting too confident and talking out of his ass too much.

Maybe he could do both.

If Jay could debilitate Doctor Discotheque, he could take the remote control. If he takes the remote control, he could easily save you.

When Jay started toward Doctor Discotheque, the villain let out a laugh. “You’re just going to ignore your little girlfriend like tha–”

“Shut– up!” Jay knocked him down with a kick to the cheek.

When Doctor Discotheque was knocked to the ground, he dropped the remote control, too. However, the remote dropped face-down, so with the impact of its collision, it bursted and shattered into several pieces. The crane began to malfunction, waving around its lift erratically. The excessive movement made the ear-splitting sound of rust rubbing against itself.

Not good.

The head of the engineering department at the university always warned them about rusty construction tools.

Oh, not good at all.

You screamed. Still pinning Doctor Discotheque’s hands to his sides, Jay grunted, snapping his head to you.

“Don- Don’t– Ah!-” you breathed. “Don’t worry about me!”

Jay clenched his jaw.

“I-I’m serious!” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not sc-scared, or anything!”

No. That wasn’t true.

All those times that he carried you through the sky.

“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--” you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”

The crane squeaked, as its spasms slowed. Except, its slowing down meant nothing. It only continued creaking. It was unstable, and by the looks of it, even Jay couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t snap off.

Doctor Discotheque threw his head back against the concrete ground, letting out another chortle. Before he could say anything, Jay raised his fist and punched him straight in the diaphragm. The villain groaned in pain, and before he could recover, Jay planted another punch in the abdomen, and another one square in the nose.

A punch in the diaphragm should debilitate him for just enough time to save you.

Jay swung toward the lift of the crane.

You were tied to it by the feet. The only way to get you to the roof was to operate the crane so that it was hanging over the building, or untie you. The former was impossible now, so the second option was the only option.

“I-I told you to–!”

“[Name], you yell a lot.” Jay didn’t realize how out-of-character it was for Spider-Man to say that, but currently, he was plagued with urgency. He had to be serious.

You shut your mouth immediately.

“[Name], I’m going to untie you,” Jay instructed. “You are going to fall.”

“Wh-What?”

Jay was already untying the ropes. Which was oddly easy.

Why were the ropes so loosely tied?

He clenched his teeth.

He was going to destroy that maniac for putting you in harm’s way.

“When I untie your feet, you’re going to fall,” Jay asserted. When he heard your breath hitch, he sighed. His gaze on you softened. “Don’t worry, Pretty. I’ll catch you.”

There was one loop left to unknot. Your eyes widened as you felt your feet slowly slip.

“You ready?” Jay stared into your eyes.

“Y-Yeah.”

He sensed the fear in your voice. “I got you, Baby.”

He untied the last knot. Immediately, you began falling down multiple stories. Your arms thrashed, and your eyes squeezed shut. You let out a loud, yet strained scream.

But then you stopped. Because you felt strong arms grip your waist.

“Spider-Man!” you cried, pressing your face into his neck, holding him tighter than you ever had before. Your eyes were watery with fear.

“What did I say, Angel?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “I got you.”

Jay swung the two of you up to the top of the skyscraper. He let you down at a roof-like structure at the very back of the roof.

“Stay here.”

“But you–”

“[Name], I need you to stay here,” Jay said, squeezing your arm. “Please.”

You sighed. “Fine.”

With that, he swung back to the front to fight Doctor Discotheque.

At that point, Doctor Discotheque was still coughing and heaving from the punch to the diaphragm, but was able to stand.

“I’m surprised you could still stand, you old geezer,” Jay mocked.

Now that you were safe, he regained his humor.

“Spider-Man, you may have beaten me three times, but not a fourth ti– AGH!”

Jay punched him. “Shut up!”

Then, Doctor Discotheque kicked Jay in the stomach. From there, they engaged in hand-to-hand combat. It was a shaky fight: Doctor Discotheque had decent strength, so his punches were indeed strong, but Jay had lightning reflexes that allowed him to dodge. Soon, Doctor Discotheque backed the hero up against the electricity pole.

“Little punks like you–” Doctor Discotheque, finally, landed a successful punch to Jay’s cheek, eliciting a groan- “Need to know your place.”

Doctor Discotheque took a deep breath.

Fuck.

He was going to scream.

He couldn’t scream loud enough to kill or severely harm Jay because he would be inflicting that same pain to himself as well. But he could definitely debilitate him with a single scream.

Doctor Discotheque opened his mouth, his chest rising and falling to widen his vocal cords.

Just as the villain was going to scream Jay deaf, he freed his hand from Doctor Discotheque’s grip. Jay punched the villain’s mouth. More specifically, he shoved his fist in his mouth.

Doctor Discotheque sunk his teeth into Jay’s fists, but he just ignored him. Instead, Jay pushed his fist deeper into his mouth, further lodging it in.

With the agility of a spider, he attached a web to the villain. With nimble, yet confident, fingers, Jay spurted webs to bind his hands and feet together. In between, he landed punch after punch and kick after kick at the man.

“Just” punch “go” punch “away” punch “already!”

The villain was now biting into Jay’s fist so hard now that he was sure the fabric was ripping.

“Fuck!” Jay kicked him square in the abdomen, sending him flying across the rooftop. When he looked at his fist, it was bleeding with teeth marks. Whatever.

Jay approached Doctor Discotheque’s keeling figure. The villain coughed blood, hair frazzled with sweat and sticking to his forehead. The superhero stood over him.

Then, Doctor Discotheque started sobbing.

“I… I did it all for my son,” the villain quivered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “My son… My beautiful son…”

Son.

Jay never had a father. The only person closest to a father was his uncle, who already died, leaving him to take care of his kid brother.

“My– My so-son,” Doctor Discotheque sobbed. “He– He always wanted a c-cool dad.”

???

“I th-thought if I fought you… he would th-think his dad w-was cool!”

Jay took a deep breath. “And you can be a cool dad. If you just spent time with him instead of fighting me.”

“N-No,” Doctor Discotheque sniffled. “H-He’s obs– obsessed with Spider-Ma-Man.”

Jay sighed. He crouched down beside the man.

“Doctor Discotheque,” he began. “I didn’t have a father. I’d do anything to just spend time with him. Your son will love you ten times more if you were just there for him.”

“R-Really?” Doctor Discotheque looked up at him with watery eyes.

“Yes.”

There was a pulse of silence. Doctor Discotheque stared at Jay, before his fingers twitched. Before he could do anything, a loud clang! rang through the air.

“[Name]…!”

You, with a metal rod, wacked Doctor Discotheque in the back of his head, sending him forward.

“I don’t fucking care!” you spat at him. You were breathing heavily, before your eyes met Jay’s.

“[Name]... what are you–”

You dropped the metal rod. You grabbed the villain’s face, slapping him.

“I don’t fucking care about you and your son!” Slap. “You wreak havoc on this city and you expect us to forgive you because you have a tragic sob story?!” Slap.“You almost killed me!” Slap. “You’re wearing sparkly spandex!” Slap. “No wonder your son doesn’t think you’re cool!” Slap. “You bitch!”

“[Name], that’s enough…!”

The aftermath of the incident was nothing to sneeze at.

Your face, as well as Doctor Discotheque, was plastered all over the news. Speaking of which, Doctor Discotheque was revealed to be some middle-aged professor, and was taken into custody for a court hearing.

It had only been a few hours ago since Spider-Man dropped you home. Meanwhile, he said that he had some “business” to attend to. Probably interviews and reporters.

It was the middle of the afternoon by now. The apartment was completely silent. Wonnie was still at school. And… Jay.

You bit your lip as you remembered what happened the night before.

You felt your neck and cheeks heat up. You really kissed him, touched him, whispered lewd words into his ear– Oh my god, you had to apologize to him!

You brought two fingers to your lip.

His lips were chapped and the lip-piercing pressed against your lip in a way that was almost painful, but for some reason, the thought just sent butterflies in your stomach. His hands were so big, holding onto you with a desperate grip.

You shoved your face into your hands, squeezing your eyes shut.

How embarrassing!

How were you going to face Jay Park?

Why were you worried?

“Do you… have a crush on him then?” Spider-Man’s words echoed through your mind.

Did you?

It would make a great deal of sense.

Why you were feeling this way, why you got so angry last night, why you’d been thinking about him at night for the past five years.

Your heart began speeding up at the thought of having a crush on Jay Park. Not just the absurdity of the idea, but because you felt so childish. You were an adult now. How could you have such a petulant crush?

But then again, Jay Park made you feel childish. Like you were some middle schooler, all immature and giggly.

Before you could dig yourself further into a hole, a tapping came from the window. Stalking over to the sill, you spotted a red-and-blue-clad hero.

He was lowering himself upside-down in his iconic stance, hanging onto a single spider web.

“Spider-Man!” you exclaimed.

“Hey there, Angel,” the hero grinned behind the mask when you opened the window. He was about to climb through when the unexpected happened. “H-Hey, what are you–!”

You grasped his upside-down face. You tore down his mask just enough to reveal the bottom half of his face, and pressed your lips onto his.

It was a chaste kiss, not meant to be sexual. Simply innocent.

Except, it felt familiar.

It was a soft kiss, but you could feel the hero’s lips. They were chapped, and there was a cold piece of metal on his lip. Like a lip-piercing.

When you pulled away, you gazed at Spider-Man’s half-exposed face, which wore an awkward, boxy smile.

“That’s what you get for saving me all those times,” you breathed.

Spider-Man’s lips curved. “What are you, a fairytale princess?”

You grinned. “You saved me like I was one.”

“Just my duty, Gorgeous.”

You caressed Spider-Man’s skin. Just like you expected, he had a strong jaw and sharp nose. His cheeks were a honey-tan color, with a twinge of red.

And most notably, his lips.

Chapped, pink, but plump.

And pierced.

Her thumb pressed onto the piercing.

His breath hitched.

You've seen that lip-piercing before.

You've stared at a certain somebody’s lips for long enough to recognize it.

No. It can’t be.

You touched his face, tracing his features slowly.

“Spider-Man,” you drew out your syllables. “Can you stand up normally? I want to check something.”

The hero silently complied, climbing through the window sill. When he stood in front of you, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip, you swallowed down hard.

Please.

In one, quick movement, you pushed Spider-Man against the wall, sliding your hands up his chest. Your hands slithered to his toned arms, grappling onto his wrists to pin above his head.

Your heart was about to fall out of yourc hest. You were breathless, eyes trained onto the hero’s lips.

A pedicured hand came up to grasp his chin.

“Are you Park?” you asked in a near-whisper. “Please. Please tell me. Are you Jay Park?”

Spider-Man stilled in your hold. He sucked in a sharp breath, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Please,” you whispered.

As you gazed at him with wide, pleading eyes, Spider-Man was able to free one of his hands. Slowly, he grasped the tight material of his mask. He pulled the fabric up and over his eyes, before freeing his entire head and face.

What was revealed?

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tan skin. A sharp nose. And that goddamn lip piercing.

Jay Park.

You audibly gasped. Your hold on his one wrist weakened, dropping all the way when you brought both hands up to clasp your gaping mouth.

Jay looked at you with an ashamed expression, yet his eyes were locked onto yours. He parted his lips to say something, but no sound came out.

This entire time… it was him?

Your body moved on its own.

You grabbed his face, and smashed your lips against his.

At first, Jay was completely still.

But after a few seconds, he let out a low grunt against your lips, slithering his arms around your waist. That earned a small squeal from you, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. Your hands roamed, sliding up and down his chest before resting in his hair. When you pulled on his dark locks, he groaned softly, allowing you to push his tongue out and put yours into his mouth.

Jay gave your waist a warning squeeze, as if to say, “Don’t try that on me.” But you only smirked against his lips, sliding your hand up his head to grab a fistful of his hair and pulling it.

When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, both flushed in the face with blown-out, desire-filled eyes. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity.

“You…” you blinked. Then, your face contorted. With a fist, you began hitting his chest. “It was you this whole time? It was… It was you who carried me home, who took me out, who saved me, who– who comforted me when I cried!

“Why didn’t you listen to me when I told you to not worry about me?!” you continued pounding his chest. “And why the fuck would you try to sympathize with that lunatic?! You could have been hurt– He might have pulled out a knife, or something! I was so worried that he’d pull a fast one and try to stab you, you stupid, stupid, stupid–!”

It was Jay’s turn to smash his lips against yours.

Almost immediately, you stopped all of your movement, melting into the kiss.

“You’re-” Jay mumbled against your lips- “You’re always such a fucking brat.”

He laced his fingers with hers, holding your hands tightly. "Always givin' me hell, you know that?"

He was rough, a lot more rough than you imagined, but it wasn't like you were opposed to it. You tried to say something, squeezing his hands. You got a few sounds out, but they were all muffled by his kissing.

“Shut up,” Jay breathed against your lips. “Just shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.”

You whined, causing him to smirk.

This kiss was much more heated than any previous ones you’ve had with him. And also much messier.

When you finally pulled away, your lips were swollen, connected by a single string of spit.

“Oh my god,” you mewled, gripping onto Jay’s bicep. “Fuck, please, Jay.”

Jay swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You never called him by his name like this. “‘Please’ what, Angel?”

“I want you,” you looked up at him with wide and glassy eyes, the same ones that he’s seen in his guiltiest dreams. “Oh my god, please, I want you so bad, Jay.”

“Are you gonna yell and hit me like last time?” he teased, hands already sliding down to grip your hips.

You pressed a wet kiss to his jaw. “Only if you won’t leave me in the middle of a hallway drunk like last time.”

You both stared at each other for a few moments, with cocked brows and narrowed eyes, neither of you wanting to relent your pride. Then, at the same time, broke out into a fit of laughter.

“I have high expectations for you, Park.”

“I won’t disappoint you, you fuckin’ nerdo freak.”

FIN.

part 1 here

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #park jay #jay x reader #jay enhypen x reader #jay fluff #enhypen smut #park jongseong fluff #park jongseong x reader #star-sim #vanya-writes

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kroosluvr · 8 months ago

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【celexcity cosmetics × THE ROYAL Collaboration Confirmed!!】

A limited-time collaboration between 「celexcity cosmetics」 and Violet, Crow, and Joker has been announced!

Various goods will be sold alongside original visuals! ✨

Order Period: 7/28/24 – 8/5/24

Purchase 「celexcity cosmetics」 items over a certain amount in-store for a random photocard of either Violet, Crow, or Joker (while supplies last)! 🍱 🥞 ☕

hey u found the cele notes section. YAY

the lipstick colors r rather similar so its hard to tell but akira kissed goro, goro kissed sumire, sumire kissed akira

black mask choker, violet mask earring, joker mask lapel pin

also the logo i just threw together but it has elements from all their mask designs (sumi's floopy things and black mask for the wings and the sharp bits on the crown frm akira's mask) and also crown bc yay. and the sparkle-diamond on top also for sumi smile

heres my eyeshadow palette reasoning. AHEM

violet

glass slipper: cendrillon! yay!!!

your resolve: kasumi's ribbon. her resolve to become a world-class gymnast, bright red and passionate

my ambition: sumire's earrings. softer and gentler, but still a powerful gold shade, showing her resolve to carry on kasumi's dream as well as pursue hers

brave step: cendrillon's signature skill!

crow

dazzle: taken from "dazzle camouflage", the design concept for loki

dark sun: dark sun ova!

laevateinn: loki's signature skill!

proof of: proof of justice ova! it's the brightest shiniest color in his palette, referencing his pure and bright childhood dream of being a hero of justice

joker

unjust game: this truly was an unjust game...

guillotine: always have been fascinated w the persona fusion mechanic being a guillotine in p5... something super wrenching abt it. i still dont understand it 100% ADKJSAHKJS in terms of the symbolism

sea of souls: YIPPE!! also i wanted dark blue for his palette

leblanc: coffe:3

TY FOR READING!! i came up w this concept yesterday and stapled myself to my chair to finish it asap

#sumire yoshizawa #goro akechi #akira kurusu #persona 5 royal #royal trio #shuakesumi #cele draws #actor au

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unlawfulgames · 1 month ago

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SOOTY BEARDS IS OUT! Come get your dwarves and your beard oil! Help us slow fund a physical release! https://plusoneexp.com/pages/sooty-beards

What is Sooty Beards?

A setting zine about a fantasy dwarf-hold crossed with a decaying American coal town. People are leaving and things are falling apart. If something doesn’t change–if things can’t change–it’ll become a ghost town soon.

Sooty Beards Features:

8 Run-down urban and wilderness areas complete with “What Used To Be Here?” And “What’s Here Now?” tables to bring out the weight of ages.

8 Strange, Dual-Statted Creatures to populate your dying coal town with, whether your game uses d6 or d20.

Dozens of quirky, narrative items to discover, from screaming lanterns to steampowered ballistic sportballs.

A “Why Did You Even Come Here?” table to give your characters quick, easy, and miserable motivations for visiting the crumbling city of Vesallberg.

More than 20 evocative pieces of art and a beautiful map of Vesallberg by Charles Ferguson-Avery.

CREEPING DEPRESSION

Instant talking canaries! Just add booze!

A glossary of useful terms to get you speaking like a native ‘Berger in no time.

A supplemental bonus book with d66 backgrounds for Vesallberg locals, compatible with TROIKA!

What People Are Saying

“An evocative portrait of community decay in the form of a TTRPG setting -- the troubles of these dwarves in their failing mine resonate strongly with the concerns of the modern day. Bleak in the best way. One gets the sense that this text is just the tip of the Vesallberg, as it were; hints lurk throughout that there is much more going on beneath the surface. (What is up with those *cats*?)”

- Dr. Mac Boyle of The Maniculum Podcast and Marginal Worlds TTRPG

The Creators of Bridgetown have done it again. They’re created a grim, nay whimsical–nay grimsical – setting that makes me wish I could grow a beard.

– Asa Donald of Backwards Tabletop

Ah, Vesallberg, miserable rock, “titanic triumph and miscreation”, a dying city stripped of resources, but full of beards (and the ecosystems within them). A wonderfully horrid place to visit, from the Slag Hills to the Deep Delvings. Come for strange misadventures among the Koljar Dwarves, Big Folk, and Scrawny folk. Stay for the deep, dark, hilarious writing; the whip-smart Politics(™); and the amazing illustration. Once you arrive you may never be able want to leave.

—Adam STATION, An Infinity of Ships, Make 100 Bastards

"How do you communicate background and lore in an RPG without it becoming a slog through a textbook? Quotes, cool tables, beautiful maps, and evocative art. This book makes it easy to picture the dwarf-hold of Vesallberg!”

-Joshua McCrowell of His Majesty The Worm

“This is like Veins of the Earth but with more life and less crunch. I really dig it!”

-David Schiduan of Technical Grimoire

“Welcome to Vesallberg, the Phoenix of the Wetlands™! … How’d that sound? Too corny? It’s too corny, isn’t it. Oh, that’ll send ‘em running away even faster. Stupid, stupid…!”

-Dent Pigiron, Newest Head of the Visitor Center

From the Team

From Furtive Goblin

Like most of my projects, what would eventually become Sooty Beards started as a half-joking mashup of X and Y shared with my friend John. In this case the “X” and “Y” were “Khazad-dûm” and “a dying coal town”, which turned out to be the magic words. For the next year he and I threw ideas back and forth and built the doc up, but soon I found myself in my first ever leading role with final say on what our team did. A fun idea became my first test as a game designer. And if you find yourself interested in picking up a copy of your own then hey, thanks for helping me pass.

From John Gregory

Just like Bridgetown, Furtive Goblin came up to me and said “Hey, I’ve got an idea!” And I responded, “I shall assemble The Team.” And, well, once again some of the Very Vilest Viziers have come together to give you something weird and bleak, a mix of dark humor, social commentary and dwarves being dwarves. Pulling from somewhere between my Appalachian coal-town ancestors and Furtive’s literal experience living under a rock, I’d like to think we’ve made something that will speak to that yet burning coal in your soul.

From Tony

I had 2 people message me asking if I could help Furtive get a zine published. I was already interested and then… they mentioned beards. At one point they tried to give me a “developer credit” but really Furt, John & Charlie did all the work and it’s beautiful, grimm & whimsical all at the same time. Each level of design layering on the next, to create something more than the individual parts. At the end of the day, unlike Vesallberg, I think people will flock to this project because of the earnest love that the creators have for what they have made, and each other. It’s great to be the 1st fan of a project, but it’s just as good to be the 3rd fan.

Follow Up

If you have additional questions, would like to schedule an interview, set up a time to play with us, or have any other questions please feel free to reach out via email to [email protected]

#ttrpg #ttrpg community #indie ttrpg #roleplaying games #ttrpg design #ttrpg art #ttrpg stuff #d100 #troika #dwarf #dwarves #diggy diggy hole #support indie creators #indie #indie games #mining #ttrpg zine

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thescarletnargacuga · 8 months ago

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Art by @iamespecter

CHAPTER TEN

Caine and Pomni grow closer while making the next day's race! Caine can't deny his feelings, but Pomni is unsure! The other racers make their own mischief without a track to keep them busy!

WARNING: none!

~~~

Gangle hummed to herself cheerfully as she redesigned the paint sceme and patterns on her kart. She was feeling rosey pink today, so that's what her kart would be for tomorrow. She drew her custom designs on the control panel tablet and they appeared on her kart in real time. "Hmmm....I wonder how many white flowers I could fit..." She was so focused, she didn't notice Gummigoo standing beside her.

"Gangle-"

"EEP!" Gangle's mask went askew but she held it before it moved out of place further. "Oh, hi!"

"Uh, hey...can I talk to you?" Gummigoo looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot.

"Sure!" Gangle put down the stylus and gave him her full attention.

Gummigoo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the scarred indents of Bubble's teeth marks. "I...I think something happened to me last night."

"A lot happened to everyone last night." Gangle giggled.

Gummigoo forced a small smile. "Yeah, look, I think something bad happened. I went to my room, blacked out and woke up standing in Pomni's room. She seemed rather freaked out by me being there."

"Oh my! I'm sorry, I didn't see you go in there. I was... preoccupied." Gangle glanced at Zooble, a light blush dusting her mask. "Have you tried talking to her today?"

"Yeah, but she brushed me off... wouldn't even look at me." His shoulders drooped. "I consider Pomni a friend, I don't think I could ever forgive myself if I had hurt her in some way...what do I do?"

Gangle put her hand on his shoulder. "Give her space for now. She'll come around when she's ready."

"What if she never is?" He couldn't handle the thought of Pomni never talking to him again.

"How about I ask her on your behalf? Maybe she'll talk to me about it. Girl to girl."

"I'd really appreciate that. You're a true friend, Gangle." Gummigoo smiled for real this time.

"Awwww, shucks. I try." Gangle waved him away bashfully. "Anyway, try not to worry too much. Pomni wanted you here in the first place. I don't think she'd change her mind overnight."

Gummigoo took a deep breath. "I'll have to take your word on that for now, but thank-"

"LOOK OUT!" Ragatha cried out.

Gummigoo turned around in time for a pb&j sandwich to smack him in the face. It slid down his stunned form, falling to the ground with a wet splat.

Jax was laughing his ass off. "I wasn't aiming for you, but I'll take it."

"What's the big idea!?" Gummigoo wiped off the smear of jelly and peanut butter over his eyes.

"I'm bored." Jax picked up a cup of yogurt from the dining table. "That's why." He chucks it at Ragatha, who ducked. The yogurt smacked the back of Kinger's head, who silently turned his head curiously. "Man, my aim is off today." Jax picked up a a mixed berry pie and aimed for Zooble, who had their back to him.

Before Jax could launch the pie, Zooble spoke. "Throw anything at me, and it'll be the last thing your arm ever does."

Jax changed the trajectory last second and threw the pie at Loo, who was hiding behind the furniture with Ragatha.

Gummigoo rushed to the packed table. The bubble chef hovered overhead, amused by the racers playing with the food. Gummigoo got a whole bowl of mashed potatoes, and dunked it on Jax's head.

"AH-MMMPHTH-!!" Jax was blinded and stumbled over a bean chair.

"Fooooood fiiiiiight!" Gangle cheered.

Everyone except Zooble scrambled for the table. They grabbed random handfuls of food and pelted Jax mercilessly. "I'LL TAKE YOU ALL ON!!" Jax warcried.

Zooble sat cross legged in a recliner, thumbing through a magazine. Not a spec of flying food touched them.

Caine and Pomni laughed hard together, out of bounds. Pomni has to brace against a colorful mushroom tree and wipe tears away as Caine held his ribs and kicked his feet mid air.

"So- so- okay-" Caine tries to talk through bouts of laughter. "So I said; why would the kart need more speed sets? It's already got three! Here, there, and GONE!"

"Oh my god..." Pomni continued to laugh. "I can't believe Kinger of all people would ask for that."

"Oh, believe it! He's more mellowed out these days, but Kinger was a real speed demon early on. Held the champion title for a record number of seasons." Caine took a steading breath, the occasional giggle escaping him.

"Could you add more speed of you wanted to?"

"Oh, definitely. The only limit is the game engine, but if I made everyone go top speed at all times, that would make the boosts and items pretty boring. Got to keep a pinch of chance mixed in with the strategy required to win a race. Keeps things interesting."

"Fair point." Pomni could finally breath normally again. She went to remove her hat to run her hand through her hair, but it didn't budge. She forgot she couldn't remove it. "Hey, um... what all can you do in the game? Are you really all-powerful?"

Caine was a bit taken aback and looked away as he cleared his voice. "I wouldn't say-....yes, I am. As the administrative AI, everything in the game is mine to do with as I please. The only exceptions are the racers. While I could certainly move you around if I wanted to, I can't control the way you act or feel or anything like that."

"Can you affect our clothes?" She tugged at her hat.

Caine looked her over, an embarrassed blush lightly displayed on the sides of his face. "...technically, yes." He wasn't sure were this was going.

"Then can you PLEASE let me take off this hat? It's a bit obtrusive."

"OH! Oh, yes, of course. Avatar changes are tricky, especially since- Nevermind, but I can help you with this." He put his hands on the sides of her hat.

Pomni leaned against the mushroom tree behind her, watching Caine curiously.

Caine focused and lifted the hat slowly. Binary code that made up Pomni's form was exposed. He ran his hand over the top of her head and the code morphed and changed color. Dark brown hair flowed from her scalp and glided between his fingers as he made it grow. The hair length stopped just below the base of her head all the way around. He smiled as he felt her soft hair slip through his fingers, his hand lingering just a bit longer than necessary near her cheek.

Pomni's eyes dilated watching Caine's expressions subtly change as he focused. Her head tingled as the hair grew. Caine's fingers brushing her cheek made her breath catch in her throat. Her digital heartbeat felt like it was trying to escape her chest.

Their eyes met, so close to one another. Caine's gaze drifted down to Pomni's lips.

"Thank you..." Pomni said quietly.

"You're welcome." Caine tried hard not to stare, but Pomni wetted her lips nervously and he shuddered.

"Hey, boss!" Bubble popped in.

Caine launched himself away from Pomni, hovering stiffly. Pomni froze in place against the mushroom tree asset.

"What!?" Caine said a bit too loud. His blush was dark red. Pomni's hat clutched tightly in one of his hands.

"The racers are destroying the garage." Bubble said with a smile.

"Good for them." Caine said, staring determinately in a random direction away from Bubble or Pomni. "Without a race, I'm sure they need something to do."

"You don't want to watch?" Bubble asked, mildly confused.

"Nope. Too busy. Lots of work left to be done on this new track if it's going to be used tomorrow."

"Okay, boss. I'm going to watch the violence." Bubble giggled giddily and popped.

Caine and Pomni both immediately relaxed when Bubble left. Pomni stepped away from the mushroom tree and looked over what she and Caine built. "You're right, there is still a lot to do. We got distracted there for a bit."

"Yeah, we did." He couldn't stop thinking about how close he had been to her. Thoughts of what could've happened if Bubble hadn't come in made his code buzz excitedly. He shook them from his mind and rejoined Pomni on the ground. "While there are still quite a few decorative assets to complete, the track itself is about finished. I'm going to sprinkle in a few jumps and maybe a tunnel for extra flavor."

"Ooh, how about a tunnel made of water?" Pomni smiled.

"I like the way you think." Caine smiled back and tossed her hat onto the same asset his coat was hanging from.

An entire plate of food crashed against the wall behind Kinger. He had barely managed to avoid it, moving his body back in a limbo bend. He was out of ammo and grabbed two cushions to throw back instead.

Everyone and everything in the garage was covered in food. The bubble chef kept making more appear on the table as the racers ran around upturned furniture.

Loo shielded Ragatha from an incoming jello mound. Green apple flavored gelatin went everywhere. Loo licked the jello off her lips. "Mmm, at least the food is good."

Ragatha playfully glared at Gangle, who had thrown the jello. "Take that!" She grabbed a handful of random mashed food on the wall and threw it back.

Gangle was hit square in the face, falling backwards. Her mask slipped, shattering on the floor. The sound of the breaking porcelain made everyone stop. Zooble slapped her magazine shut.

Ragatha nearly slipped on mashed food trying to get to Gangle. "Oh no! I'm so sorry! Are you okay!?"

Gangle lightly sniffed, gingerly picking up the pieces of her comedy mask. "Been... awhile since...this happened. I knew I should have...secured it better today." Her voice lulled slowly with a heavy rasp.

Zooble scooped up the pieces easily, then helped Gangle to her feet. They stood between Gangle and the others, not letting them see her tragic face. "Come on, there's extra glue in my room." They leave together to go upstairs

"Way to go, Ragatha. Now the mood is ruined." Jax complained.

"I didn't mean to hit her in the face! I really am sorry!" Ragatha called up after Gangle as the door to Zooble's room shut.

Loo placed a comforting hand on Ragatha. "I'm sure she knows it was an accident."

Ragatha didn't say anything as she brushed food off her dress.

Gummigoo shook mush off his tail, looking around. "Crikey, I think we got carried away." A bit of food fell from the ceiling and splattered on his snoot. He groaned.

"Without a race to reset the garage, we'll need Caine if we want this cleaned up." Kinger commented as he wiped undistinguishable food off his robe. He looked mournfully at the messed up cushions, no pillow forts could be made with messy cushions.

"Hey, chef?" Ragatha addressed the bubble in the room. "Would you mind asking Caine to pop over real quick and help us out?"

"No can do." The bubble shook in reply. "He's busy working on tomorrow's track with Pomni."

"They left?" Regatha looked out the window with it's blinds open.

"You didn't see them leave? You should pay attention more." Kinger said poignantly.

Ragatha didn't comment. She turned back to the bubble chef. "Come on, he can do it in less than a second. It wouldn't take much of his time."

"Nuh-uh." Bubble said with an even wider grin. "He's so focused he even has Pomni against a tree for comparison."

Ragatha blinked and looked to the others, everyone shrugged.

"...and taking off her clothing assets." Bubble announced.

Ragatha clapped her hands over her mouth. Everyone else struggles to pretend they didn't just hear that.

Jax picked up a plate and threw it like a frisbee it at the chef. The unhelpful bubble pops and the plate smashes against the wall. "Useless assistants."

Caine finished rendering a new spiral launch and took a breather. "That's the last of the track. This is going to be spectacular, Pomni! Thanks especially to you."

Pomni waved off his praise. "Oh, come on, all I've done is talk. You're the one doing all the work."

"My dear, creative brainstorming is a big part of what I do! The fact that you came up with most of this on your own, I'm impressed. What inspired you?"

Pomni looked around at the dark light colors and soft lighting. "I think I just like pretty things that shine in the dark."

"How poetic." Caine smirked.

Pomni smiled bashfully. "Maybe this is what I liked on the outside..."

Caine watched her carefully. "...how much do you remember?"

"Not a lot. I remember snippets and I dream, but nothing solid. Like, I can't remember where I'm from...where I grew up....if I had a family..."

"I'm sorry." Caine said quietly. "If the exit wasn't the way it is, I'd let you go back in a snap, but for what it's worth...I'm glad you're here."

Pomni wiped away a tear that tried to sneak out. "It's not all bad. The others are fun to be around, and you've... made me feel pretty welcome."

"It's what I do." He took off his hat and bowed dramatically. "Caine, Race Host Extraordinaire, at your service."

Pomni giggled. Before she could speak further, a large asset started blinking some distance behind Caine. Pomni saw it shudder and glitch, her eyes widened.

Caine got up from his bow and saw Pomni staring into the distance. "Something wrong?" He goes to turn around but Pomni grabs his wrist.

"No! Nothing! Sorry! I just, uh- had an idea! Yeah! We haven't made insects for this track yet. Kinger would be disappointed if we forgot." She quickly glanced behind Caine, the asset was normal again.

"Gadzooks, you're right! What an oversight! I know just the thing for a track like this, but I'll need your help." He slid his wrist out of her grasp to hold her hand.

"What could I do? I can't create things out of thin air."

"Not alone you can't, but with a little bit of administrative access..." He snapped his fingers and his hand holding hers glowed a dim gold.

Pomni's palm felt warm and tingly. Her gloved hand buzzed and pixelated a little before going back to normal.

"...if you can conceive it, you can achieve it. Now, visualize in your mind what you want to appear."

Pomni closed her eyes to focus. She thought hard on picturing a moth. It's what was on the top of her head. Suddenly something fluttered in between her hand and Caine's. She gasped and pulled away from him. A black light green and blue moth flew free, coming to rest on the trunk of the mushroom tree. She looked at her hand. "Oh my god..."

"Neat, right? Now, imagine... having that power with absolutely everything! The world is yours to command at a single snap." Caine snapped his fingers and every asset they worked on that day levitated for a second before going back down. "Go on, give it a try."

Pomni looked for the smallest asset. A pebble. She thought to herself: jump! She snapped. The pebble jumped several inches off the ground. "WOAH!"

"You learn quickly." Caine beamed. "This access will allow you to help me more in the future. However, it will only work out of bounds. Can't have you snapping things around active tracks all willy-nilly."

"Aw, and here I wanted to snap Jax into the nearest dumpster."

Caine chuckled. "As tempting as that is some days, it's important to show restraint. Yet another lesson I've learned the hard way." His eyes became distant for a moment, then he cleared his voice. "Anyway, would you like to keep making more?"

"I would." She held out her hand to him.

Caine gladly accepted it. "My power is yours. Show me what that beautiful mind can create."

Pomni could not get used to Caine complimenting her, as nice as it felt, the fluster made it hard to focus. All she could think of were "colorful night bugs". She snapped. A flurry of multicolor moths and fireflies and beetles flew from her hand out on to the new track.

Caine watched her with soft eyes. The way she looked in the colorful low light was truly something to behold. He ran his thumb subtly over her knuckles, wanting nothing more than to pull her in and kiss her breathless. For now, at least, she seemed very happy with her gift. There was real joy in her smile. That was enough for him.

It was late before Pomni and Caine popped back into the garage, right outside her room door. All was quiet, the other racers already settled in their rooms for the night. Pomni had her hat tucked under an arm, still wanting to enjoy her head's new found freedom. "Thanks for spending time with me, today. I had fun." She gave him a genuine smile.

Caine's code skipped a beat. He placed a light kiss to the top of her hand. "Trust me when I say, it's been my absolute pleasure. I should have you around out of bounds more often. Who knows what kind of trouble we could get into." He winks.

Pomni internally screams from romantic panic. Her face felt as hot as the sun. "That- that- would be nice! We could make a date of it! ...again." This time, nothing felt like just a nice gesture. This time, it felt meaningful. That maybe pursuing a romantic relationship with a gaming AI wasn't that crazy after all.

Caine could explode into butterflies and confetti. She wanted to make it another date! "Just let me know when. Give your fingers a snap, and I'll be right there." He held both her hands in his. "I'm so happy, Pomni. I'm so very happy to have you around. You're not just another racer, you're special to me."

Pomni didn't know what to say. She was happy too, but at the same time, this was still a crazy situation to find herself in. Part of her wanted to launch herself into Caine's embrace and never let go, the other wanted to run. She awkwardly swung her arms with his. "I... you're becoming something special to me too. I still have... reservations. I'm sorry if that wasn't what you wanted to hear, I just...need to go slow." She looked down and away.

Caine gently squeezes her hands. "My dear, we can take this as slow as we need to. We can save the high speed pursuits for the track. Rest well, I look forward to tomorrow."

"Me too." Pomni gave him one last smile as she shut her room door.

Caine hovered near the ceiling, looking down at the travesty that was the garage. "Racers." He chuckles and snaps. The place instantly became spotless and tidy. He teleported away.

Pomni immediately checked her room for Abel. Relieved to find herself alone, she flopped on her bed and screamed confused emotions into her pillow. "What am I doing!? I can't actually be falling for him?? I want to leave but he's so- so- AAAAH!! Is he really interested or is it an act?? Abel said-... And why ME of all people!? I'm not- HE- uuuuuuuuugh..." She relaxed face down on the bed, eventually drifting off to sleep.

Beep.

A blue digital countdown flashed before Pomni's eyes. It scared her. She tried to run from it. The numbers got bigger, the blue glow getting brighter behind her. More lights ahead. Two high beam gold headlights. The roar of an engine. Tires screeching. She tries to run to the side, but feels sluggish, her running stride slowing no matter how fast she tries to go.

Both sets of lights get closer to her. A panicked heart beat booms in her ear. The red door with the C&A logo appears between the lights. She throws herself through it as the lights collide.

Beyond the door was an office, but not the same as she's seen before. It looked like a home office. More modern. Papers and files stacked everywhere. Photos of faceless people pinned to a corkboard. Red string connected them. The C&A logo centered on the board with multiple red circles drawn over it.

The flat screen monitors came to life with red letters. P W P I. Again and again. "Pomni..." A feminine disembodied voice called out. "Pomni..." It came from a wall that was entirely made of mirror.

Pomni stared into it, not seeing herself, but the woman in the brown jacket. The strange woman put her hand against the mirror. Pomni felt inclined to do the same. When their hands touched, the mirror cracked violently. The reflection became fragments of visions that meant nothing to Pomni.

The mirror wall fell apart, revealing a black abyss beyond. One large green and orange eye opens, staring directly at Pomni. She couldn't move. Her body defied any instinct to run. The eye rushes her.

Pomni jolts awake with a shout, falling off her bed. "Ow..." She holds her aching head. She didn't feel like going back to bed. None of her dreams have made it worth it. She opened her door to find sunlight peeking in through the blinds on the main floor. It was morning already.

Pomni tiredly requested coffee from the bubble chef. She was the first up, having the lounge to herself. It was the first bit of peace and quiet she actually had in a while. Her mind was exhausted. Swinging wildly from one emotion to another, and dreaming about...whatever the heck all that was, had her drained. Her peace was broken by Zooble and Gangle being the next ones down.

"Good morning!" Gangle cheerfully greeted as she sat next to Pomni. Zooble sat next to Gangle with an arm over the back of the couch.

Pomni internally cringed at Gangle's tone this early in the morning, but kept a neutral face. "Morning..." She sipped her coffee.

"Are you feeling better after spending time with Caine? You were a bit out of sorts yesterday."

Pomni slowly blinked, trying to remember what Gangle was referring to. "Oh...yeah, I am. We had fun."

"That's great! Because Gummigoo seemed pretty upset that you wouldn't talk to him."

"I didn't want to talk to anyone." Pomni said defensively.

"I know, but he was REALLY worried that he had done something wrong."

Pomni focused on her coffee. "He didn't. Just...wrong place, wrong time."

Gangle looked to Zooble in a silent plea. Zooble shrugged. Gangle nervously tapped her ribbon hands together. "Maybe you should talk to him? Tell him things are okay? He cares about how you feel about him."

Pomni stared at her reflection in the black bean water. "I'll talk to him." She'd have to at some point. Abel would be back any time.

Pomni caught Gummigoo the moment he left his room. "Hey, can we talk?"

"Sure thing." Gummigoo felt an icepick of fear in his code but went with her anyway. He needed to know what he'd done.

They sat together in the stands, away from prying ears in the garage. Another perfect digital day made the quiet environment easy to enjoy. Gummigoo nervously held his hands together, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees to keep them from shaking.

Pomni sat back with her arms crossed. "Nothing happened the other night. You walked in. We talked a bit. You came around. I helped you find your way out. That was it."

"...that doesn't explain how scared you looked. You acted like I was about to literally bite your head off. Then you wouldn't even look at me the next day. I'm sorry, but I don't believe you." Gummigoo said quietly but firmly.

Pomni took a moment to answer. "The conversation got heated. You're kind of scary when you're angry. I'm glad you came to when you did." The memory of Abel's cold fury directed to Caine made her head hurt.

"What did I say? I really don't remember...I'm sorry." Gummigoo sulked.

"Don't worry about it. People do weird things under the influence. I still consider you a friend."

"Really?"

"Mmhm."

Gummigoo sat up straight. "That's a relief. I would've been devo if I couldn't muck about on the track with you anymore." He smirked.

Pomni smiled back. "Things would've gotten boring so fast."

Caine appeared right on time in full race host uniform. Fairy lights sparkle, falling around him. "Hello, my fabulous fantastical friends! I have a very special treat for you all today! A brand new track designed from the very mind of our own Pomni!"

"Oh, this oughta be good." Jax huffed.

"It's more than that! It's excellent!" Caine excitedly flew over to Pomni and held out his cane to her.

She looked at it with confusion. "Uh...what-"

"This is your track, Pomni. You should be the one to introduce it to the other racers." Caine motioned for her to take his cane.

"Ooo! How exciting!" Ragatha clapped. "Go on, Pomni. You can tell us about what you made."

Pomni slowly took the cane, trying not to look at all the eyes on her. "Uh..." Microphone feedback from the cane's topper made an ear splitting ring echo through the garage. She held the cane out at arms length. "Sorry."

"Already off to a great start." Jax muttered sarcastically.

"Um, the track today is..." She just realized they never agreed on a name. She had to come up with one on the spot. She spied the sparkling lights Caine had made part of his entrance and rolled with it. "Uh...the Fairylight Forrest."

As if on cue, Caine snapped and the race track title appeared in shiny, colorful letters overhead. They had way too much pizzazz for Pomni's lackluster announcement.

Everyone but Jax politely clapped. Pomni wanted to fall through the floor. She tried giving Caine his cane back.

"Not yet! They need to see it! Come on everyone! Lead the way, Pomni!"

The embarrassment was going to kill her.

Caine opened the door for her and the racers. The outside was gorgeous. A dark Forrest bathed in pale moonlight surrounded the startling line. The track disappeared into the iridescent woodland, small lights lining the sides. Bioluminescent mushrooms as tall as the trees gave off blacklight glow. Moths and fireflies flitted about.

The racers all gave whispered gasps and comments of astonishment. This was one of the most serene tracks any of them had even seen. Ragatha nudged Pomni with her elbow. "Good job, this is way more mellow than anything Caine's every made."

Pomni smirked mischievously. "You haven't seen the track yet." She raised her voice confidently, seeing how genuinely impressed everyone was. "Welcome to the Fairlyight Forest! Don't be fooled by it's appearance! It's as dangerous as it is beautiful!"

Caine lounged back in the air with his arms crossed, a proud smile on his face.

Pomni raised the cane to her lips. "This track is packed with harrowing hairpin turns, sickening spirals and mind-blowing multi-tiered jumps!"

Caine was falling in love all over again.

"Be amazed! Be astounded! But don't be caught unaware! For a great beast roams these woods, and it's hunger for racers is never saited! Can you make it to the final lap in one piece? Let's find out. Racers! To your karts!" A roaring applause came from the themed stands behind her. She jerked her head around to the crowd, like she had forgotten it existed. NPCs where on their feet, going wild for the announcement. The others excitedly ran to their karts as Pomni held the cane close to her chest. She was rather surprised with herself.

"You're amazing." Caine said from behind her.

Pomni smiled bashfully and held out the cane to him. "I learn from the best."

He took it, going out of his way to make sure his fingers brush hers. "Have fun out there, my fairy queen."

"Always." Pomni smiled all the way out to her kart, jumping in.

Caine twirled his cane. "Racers! Start! Your! Engines!!"

Bubble appeared with translucent fairy wings on their back and stuck out their tongue to start the countdown.

First light...

Pomni couldn't take her eye off Caine. He was looking at her so longingly that her heart skipped a beat.

Second light...

She winked at him, reving her engine.

Third light...

She could swear Caine fainted.

GREEN!!

She takes off with the group into the forest.

Blue static crackled along the bounds of the game, moving with purpose. Every asset touched by it blinked and glitched subtly. The static came to the portion of the forest where the antagonistic beast lied dormant, awaiting the racers to trigger it's pursuit. The static leapt into the eyes of the beast. It's cold silver eyes turned bright blue.

~~~

CH 1 PREV NEXT

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc fanfiction #tadc caine #tadc pomni #tadc showtime #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #tadc gummigoo #caine x pomni #gangle x zooble #ragatha x loolilalu #Abel #showtime shipping #showtime ship #showtime

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w1w2 · 4 months ago

Text

If You

Kim Chaewon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 6k

Synopsis: After a breakup, Y/N and Chaewon navigate the lingering ache of lost love, each weighed down by memories and regrets. “If you’re struggling like I am, Can’t we make things a little easier?”

For better experience listen to IF YOU by BIGBANG

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Rain fell steadily against the windows, the sound a soft rhythm that filled the stillness of the apartment. Y/N sat hunched over her desk, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the screen of her phone. Her bedroom, usually alive with warmth and color, felt muted tonight. The fairy lights strung along the walls barely flickered, and the soft hum of the heater failed to chase away the cold she felt deep inside.

Her thumb hovered over a photo album labeled Us. She hadn’t opened it in weeks, telling herself she’d moved on or at least trying to believe it. But the quiet pull of nostalgia had a way of finding her, especially on nights like this. With a heavy sigh, she tapped on the folder.

The first image was a selfie of her and Chaewon, their cheeks pressed together, grinning under the golden haze of a setting sun. Chaewon’s fingers had been loosely wrapped around Y/N’s wrist, a bracelet glinting against her skin.

Y/N smiled faintly at the memory, but the ache in her chest quickly followed. The weight of the silence in her room pressed down harder, and she swiped through the photos slowly, each one unraveling pieces of the past.

There was one of them at a café, Chaewon holding up a latte with a heart-shaped foam art and a playful wink. Another at the beach, their feet buried in the sand, the ocean stretching endlessly behind them. And yet another of Chaewon asleep on Y/N’s shoulder during a late-night movie marathon, her face peaceful and angelic.

Y/N’s hand trembled as she locked her phone and set it down. This was a mistake, she thought. Letting herself drown in these memories always left her feeling emptier. But tonight, she couldn’t stop herself.

She turned to her desk drawer and pulled out a small, velvet-lined jewelry box. Inside, nestled against the soft fabric, was the bracelet. Silver, delicate, and simple. Chaewon had chosen it carefully, telling her it reminded her of Y/N “elegant and understated but beautiful in a way you can’t stop noticing.”

Y/N traced the cool metal with her fingertips, her mind pulling her back to the day she received it.

Flashback

It had been their first anniversary, and Y/N had expected nothing more than a quiet dinner together. They had agreed to keep it simple, both claiming they didn’t need grand gestures.

Chaewon, however, had a way of surprising her.

They were walking home after dinner, Y/N laughing at a story Chaewon had told about one of her members accidentally locking themselves out of their dorm room. The streetlights cast warm pools of light around them, and the crisp evening air carried the faint scent of blooming flowers.

“Wait,” Chaewon had said suddenly, stopping in her tracks.

Y/N blinked, confused as Chaewon rummaged in her coat pocket. “What are you doing?”

Chaewon looked up with a sheepish grin, her cheeks slightly pink. “I said no big gifts, but…” She pulled out a small box and held it out. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Y/N’s heart had skipped a beat. “Chaewon…”

“Just open it.”

Inside was the bracelet. The delicate design caught the light as Y/N lifted it from the box, her breath catching in her throat. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Chaewon took it from her hands and gently fastened it around her wrist. Her fingers lingered for a moment, brushing against Y/N’s skin. “Now you’ll always have a piece of me with you,” she said softly, her voice full of affection.

Y/N had stared at her then, struck by how much love Chaewon could pour into the simplest moments. She threw her arms around her, holding her tightly, their laughter mingling with the quiet hum of the city around them.

End of the Flashback

The memory was so vivid that for a moment, Y/N could almost feel Chaewon’s arms around her again. But as she opened her eyes, reality crashed back in. The bracelet was still there, cool and unmoving in her hand, but Chaewon was gone.

The emptiness in the room felt unbearable. Y/N clenched the bracelet tightly in her fist, her knuckles whitening.

“What happened to us?” she murmured into the silence.

Her mind spiraled with questions she’d asked herself countless times before. Had she taken Chaewon for granted? Had she missed the signs of her growing unhappiness? Or had the weight of their lives—Chaewon’s demanding schedule, the secrecy of their love—become too much to bear?

She placed the bracelet back into the jewelry box and closed it gently, as if sealing away the memory. But the ache in her chest remained, sharp and persistent.

This was her routine now—revisiting their past in quiet moments, replaying every detail until it felt like she was living it all over again. It was both a comfort and a torment, a way to feel close to Chaewon but also a reminder of how far apart they’d become.

The rain outside grew heavier, drumming against the window like a heartbeat. Y/N leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the raindrops racing down the glass. Somewhere out there, Chaewon was living her life, moving forward, maybe even smiling again.

Y/N wondered if Chaewon ever thought about her, if she too had a box of memories hidden away. Or maybe she had already let go, the way Y/N couldn’t seem to.

Her throat tightened as tears blurred her vision. “If you…” she whispered, the words trailing off into the quiet room.

For a moment, she allowed herself to hope—just for a moment—that Chaewon missed her too.

But that hope carried her back to the moment she couldn’t stop replaying in her mind, the moment everything fell apart.

Flashback

The park was quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional laughter of children playing in the distance. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, as if the universe had decided to wrap the day in beauty, completely unaware of the storm brewing between two hearts.

Y/N sat on the edge of a weathered wooden bench, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. The coolness of the wood seeped through her jeans, grounding her in a reality she didn’t want to face. Chaewon stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Her figure was silhouetted against the setting sun, but the tension in her posture betrayed her calm façade.

The silence between them was deafening.

Finally, Chaewon broke it. Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to say this.”

Y/N turned to her, her heart pounding so loudly she thought it might drown out the words she didn’t want to hear. “Just say it,” she urged, though every fiber of her being wanted to run.

Chaewon took a deep breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “I’ve been thinking about us. About everything.” Her voice wavered, and she paused, struggling to find the right words. “And I… I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Y/N blinked, the words not registering at first. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Chaewon turned to face her fully, and for the first time, Y/N saw the pain etched on her face. Her eyes were glassy, her lips pressed into a thin line, as if holding herself together was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

“It’s not you,” Chaewon said quickly, taking a step closer. “It’s everything else. The pressure, the schedules, the constant hiding… I thought I could balance it all, but I can’t.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. “So, what? You’re just giving up? Throwing us away?”

Chaewon flinched, her eyes darting to the ground. “I’m not throwing anything away. This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.”

“Then don’t make it!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she stood, her emotions spilling over. “We can figure it out, Chaewon. We always do. I can wait for you. I’ll be patient. Just… don’t do this.”

Chaewon looked up at her, tears now brimming in her eyes. “You deserve more than waiting, Y/N. You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, their whole life. And right now, I can’t do that.”

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut. She staggered back, shaking her head. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve. I choose you, Chaewon. Isn’t that enough?”

Chaewon stepped forward, reaching for her, but stopped herself halfway. Her hands fell limply to her sides. “It’s not enough for me,” she whispered.

The wind picked up, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and rustling the leaves above them. Y/N stared at Chaewon, her vision blurring with tears. “You’re lying,” she said, her voice hollow. “You’re just scared. Scared that I’ll see you struggle, that I’ll know you’re not perfect. But I already know, Chaewon. I know, and I still love you.”

Chaewon turned away, her shoulders shaking as she bit back a sob. “Don’t make this harder than it already is,” she said, her voice breaking.

Y/N took a step closer, desperate to close the growing distance between them. “Then tell me you don’t love me,” she demanded. “Say it, and I’ll walk away right now.”

Chaewon froze. The words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. She turned back to Y/N, her face streaked with tears. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Say it,” Y/N repeated, her voice trembling.

“I can’t,” Chaewon admitted finally, her voice barely audible. “Because I do love you. More than you know. But love isn’t enough.”

The finality in her tone shattered something inside Y/N. She sank back onto the bench, her body numb. The coolness of the wood beneath her felt sharper now, almost painful.

Chaewon crouched in front of her, their faces inches apart. “You’ll be okay,” she said softly, though her own expression betrayed the words. “You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than me.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend this is for my sake when it’s killing both of us.”

Chaewon reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s cheek. For a moment, they stayed like that, frozen in the fragile space between holding on and letting go.

“I’m sorry,” Chaewon whispered, her voice breaking. She stood, her hand slipping away as if it physically hurt her to let go.

Y/N watched her take a step back, then another. Her silhouette blurred as tears filled Y/N’s eyes again. Somewhere in the distance, a bird took flight, its wings slicing through the golden sky.

“Chaewon…” Y/N called out, her voice small and desperate.

Chaewon stopped but didn’t turn around. “I’ll always love you,” she said softly, the words carried away by the wind.

And then she walked away.

Y/N sat there long after Chaewon disappeared from view. The sunset had faded, the sky now tinged with the deep blues of twilight. The sounds of the park grew distant, muffled by the weight of her grief.

The bird circled overhead before flying out of sight, leaving Y/N alone with the emptiness.

End of the Flashback

The memory faded, but the ache it left behind was as sharp as ever. Y/N rubbed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, the faint hum of rain against her apartment window grounding her in the present. It didn’t matter how many times she revisited that day—it always felt as raw as if it had just happened.

She let out a slow, shuddering breath, running her fingers through her hair. The stillness in the room was suffocating, so she grabbed her coat and keys, deciding she couldn’t stay here any longer. Maybe a change of scenery would help, though deep down she knew better.

Moments later, she found herself standing outside the café, her hand resting on the door handle.

The café smelled of roasted coffee and freshly baked pastries, a comforting blend that had once been a backdrop to Y/N’s happiest moments. She pushed open the glass door, the small bell overhead chiming softly. The sound felt familiar, like an echo from a distant memory.

The barista greeted her with a polite smile, but Y/N barely noticed. Her gaze instinctively went to the corner booth near the window—their booth. It was empty, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight. For a second, she hesitated, considering sitting elsewhere. But her feet carried her there anyway, as if her heart couldn’t resist the pull.

She slid into the seat, running her hand along the polished wooden table. The grooves and scratches, so subtle to most, felt like a map of memories. Chaewon had once doodled on a napkin here, sketching a caricature of Y/N that had them both in stitches. Y/N had kept that napkin, tucked away somewhere she couldn’t bear to look now.

The barista brought over her usual—a caramel latte, the same drink Chaewon had loved. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said casually.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, her voice quiet. “I’ve been… busy.”

The barista nodded and left her alone. Y/N wrapped her hands around the warm mug, staring into the swirls of foam. She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering, from pulling her back to a time when this seat across from her wasn’t empty.

Flashback

“Is it weird that I like dipping my croissant into my latte?” Chaewon asked, breaking off a flaky piece of pastry.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “It’s not weird, just… very you.”

Chaewon pouted, pretending to be offended. “You’re saying I’m weird?”

“You’re adorable,” Y/N corrected, leaning forward to steal a bite of the croissant.

Chaewon grinned, her eyes crinkling in that way that made Y/N’s heart race. “Good save.”

They sat there for hours, talking about everything and nothing. Chaewon’s dreams, her fears, her struggles as a leader. Y/N had listened intently, holding her hand across the table and promising her that she’d always be there, no matter what.

End of Flashback

Y/N blinked, the memory dissolving like sugar in hot coffee. She glanced at the seat across from her, and her chest tightened. The space felt too vast, too empty.

She took a sip of her latte, the sweetness doing little to ease the bitterness in her heart.

Later that day, Y/N found herself walking aimlessly through the streets. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but her feet seemed to lead her toward the park. It wasn’t the same one where they’d broken up, but it held the same quiet serenity, the same crisp air that felt too sharp against her skin.

As she passed a group of teenagers laughing and taking selfies, a voice called out to her. “Hey, aren’t you Y/N?”

She turned to see a young girl, probably no older than 16, looking at her with wide, starstruck eyes. “I think you’re Y/N! You used to… you were close to LE SSERAFIM, right? I saw pictures of you with Kim Chaewon a while back.”

Y/N forced a smile, though she felt her chest constrict. “Yeah, I know them,” she said softly.

The girl’s face lit up. “That’s so cool! Chaewon is amazing, isn’t she? I just saw their new performance. It was incredible.”

Y/N nodded, her smile faltering. “She’s… she’s really talented.”

The girl didn’t seem to notice the sadness in her tone. She waved goodbye cheerfully, leaving Y/N standing alone on the path.

The tightness in her chest grew heavier. Chaewon was amazing, and she always had been. Y/N had known it from the start. But had she done enough to make sure Chaewon knew how much she believed in her?

Back at home, Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the open journal on her lap. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of her bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls.

She picked up her pen, hesitating for a moment before pressing it to the page.

Chaewon,I don’t even know where to start. Every time I think about you, it feels like there’s this weight in my chest that I can’t get rid of. I miss you. I miss your voice, your laugh, the way you always knew exactly what to say when I was feeling lost.

Do you ever think about me? About us?

I’ve been replaying everything in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I keep thinking about all the times I could’ve done more, been better for you. Like that night you called me after your concert in Busan.

Flashback

The call had come late, long past midnight. Y/N had been half-asleep, but the moment Chaewon’s name lit up her screen, she’d answered.

“Hey,” Chaewon’s voice was soft, but there was a tremor in it that made Y/N sit up immediately. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Y/N lied. “What’s wrong?”

There was a long pause before Chaewon spoke again. “I don’t know. I just… everything feels so heavy sometimes. Like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

Y/N’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she said firmly. “I’m here, Chaewon. Always.”

Chaewon had sighed, a shaky sound that broke Y/N’s heart even more. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

End of Flashback

Y/N closed her journal, her hand trembling. She had been there for Chaewon in that moment, but had it been enough? Had she done enough to make Chaewon feel like she wasn’t alone?

Her gaze shifted to the window, where the rain had started again, soft and unrelenting. She placed the journal on her nightstand and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

The silence in the room felt unbearable, but it was a silence she’d grown used to.

“Chaewon,” she whispered into the stillness. “I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the air, unanswered, yet Y/N couldn’t stop herself from hoping they would somehow reach her. Somewhere out there, in a different room under different lights, Chaewon was living her life—perhaps moving on, perhaps not. Y/N couldn’t know for sure.

But Chaewon felt it too, the weight of the same silence.

The steady thump of the bass reverberated through the rehearsal studio, punctuated by the sound of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor. Chaewon moved in sync with her members, her every step sharp, her every turn precise. Yet her mind wasn’t on the choreography.

Her focus wavered as a familiar melody filtered through the speakers. The upbeat tempo and bright vocals felt out of place against the storm brewing in her chest. She froze mid-movement, her heart lurching as she recognized the song. It was Y/N’s favorite—something they used to sing along to during long car rides, the windows down, laughter spilling into the wind.

The music blared on, but Chaewon’s breath hitched. Her chest tightened, the walls of the studio suddenly feeling too close, the air too thin.

“Chaewon, are you okay?” Sakura asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Chaewon forced a smile, nodding quickly. “I’m fine. Just… need a minute.” Without waiting for a response, she hurried out of the studio, the sound of the song fading as the door closed behind her.

In the quiet hallway, Chaewon leaned against the wall, her hand pressed to her chest as if that could still the ache. It had been weeks since she’d last seen Y/N, but the memories clung to her like shadows, surfacing when she least expected them.

Back in her dorm room, the glow of her phone screen illuminated Chaewon’s face. She lay curled on her bed, her knees tucked to her chest, scrolling through her photo gallery.

There was one of Y/N asleep on her shoulder, her face peaceful and soft in the dim light of Chaewon’s living room. Another of Y/N laughing mid-bite during a makeshift dinner date at her apartment, the kitchen behind her a chaotic mess of half-prepped ingredients.

Chaewon’s thumb hovered over a video. She hesitated, then tapped play.

The video started with Y/N holding the camera, pouting playfully. “Say hi to your fans, Chaewon!”

Chaewon appeared in the frame, her cheeks pink as she groaned, “Y/N, I’m off-duty.”

“But you’re so cute!” Y/N teased, leaning in to kiss Chaewon’s cheek, earning a shy laugh from the idol.

The video ended, and Chaewon set her phone down, staring at the ceiling. The quiet of her room was deafening, filled only with the faint hum of the city outside.

Chaewon rubbed her eyes, willing the tears away. She had thought walking away from Y/N was the right choice. Her schedule was relentless, her responsibilities as a leader unyielding. Being with Y/N had started to feel selfish, like she was holding her back from the happiness she deserved.

But now, lying alone in her dorm, Chaewon wondered if she had been wrong.

She had everything she had ever dreamed of—fame, success, adoration from fans across the world. Yet none of it filled the emptiness Y/N had left behind.

Her fingers brushed against her nightstand, where a Polaroid of the two of them rested, tucked into the corner of her mirror. In the photo, Y/N was smiling brightly, her arms draped around Chaewon’s shoulders. Chaewon was looking at her, her expression soft, as if she couldn’t believe someone like Y/N had chosen her.

Now, all Chaewon could see in the mirror was the shadow of the person she had been in that photo.

Flashback

It had been a rare evening off, and Chaewon had done something she almost never did: she broke the rules.

She had slipped away from the dorms, her cap pulled low over her face, and made her way to Y/N’s apartment. Y/N opened the door, her surprise melting into a delighted smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” Chaewon admitted, stepping inside.

Y/N pulled her into a hug, and for the first time in weeks, Chaewon felt the tension in her shoulders ease.

They spent the night cooking together, though “cooking” was a generous term. Y/N was terrible at following recipes, and Chaewon wasn’t much better, but they didn’t care. Flour dusted the countertops, and burnt garlic wafted through the air, but their laughter drowned out every mishap.

When they finally sat down to eat their poorly made pasta, Y/N raised her glass of soda dramatically. “To us, the culinary disasters.”

“To us,” Chaewon repeated, her voice warm.

Later, as they sat on the couch, Y/N leaned in and kissed her softly. “You’re everything to me, you know that?”

Chaewon’s heart swelled, and she held Y/N close, wishing the moment could last forever.

End of Flashback

Chaewon blinked back to the present, the memory lingering like a ghost in the room. Her eyes drifted to the corner of her dorm, where a small plant sat on a shelf. It was drooping, its leaves pale and dry.

She frowned, realizing she had forgotten to water it—again. She got up and carried the pot to the sink, running water over the parched soil.

The plant looked pitiful, and Chaewon couldn’t help but see herself in it. With Y/N, she had thrived, her life full of color and light. Without her, she felt like she was wilting, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.

She placed the plant back on the shelf, her hands lingering on the pot. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, unsure if she was speaking to the plant, herself, or Y/N.

The next morning, Chaewon was back on stage, the spotlight blinding, her voice steady as she greeted the cheering fans. To them, she was confident, radiant, untouchable.

But as she danced and sang, her heart felt heavy. She wondered if anyone could see the cracks beneath her polished exterior, the vulnerability she worked so hard to hide.

Behind the scenes, when the music stopped and the lights dimmed, Chaewon sat alone in the dressing room, her fingers brushing over the Polaroid tucked into her bag.

For all her fame and success, she had never felt so alone.

That night, she returned to her dorm, her mind heavy with thoughts of Y/N. Sleep didn’t come easily, the memories of their time together playing on a loop in her head.

The next morning dawned gray and quiet, the city blanketed in clouds that promised rain. Chaewon sat by the window of the dorm’s common area, watching droplets streak the glass as they started to fall. Her schedule for the day was mercifully light, but the free time only left more room for the ache in her chest to grow.

Y/N sat in a café. It was as quiet as Y/N had ever seen it, the usual hum of chatter replaced by the gentle patter of rain against the large glass windows. She sat in their favorite corner, her hands wrapped around a warm mug. Outside, the rain blurred the world into watercolor streaks, the kind of scene that always felt more like a memory than reality.

She stared at the rain, her thoughts tangled with images of Chaewon. No matter how many times she tried to bury the memories, they always found their way back to her. The sound of a bell chiming above the café door barely registered in her mind.

Until she saw her.

Chaewon.

The world seemed to slow as Y/N’s eyes locked onto her. Chaewon stood just inside the door, shaking rain from her umbrella. She looked different—tired, maybe—but no less radiant. Her damp hair clung to her face, and her oversized sweater made her seem smaller than Y/N remembered.

Chaewon’s gaze swept over the room, and when their eyes met, her breath caught. For a moment, neither moved, the noise of the world around them fading into nothing.

Y/N’s heart raced, the sudden rush of emotions leaving her lightheaded. Should she wave? Smile? Say something?

Before she could decide, Chaewon stepped forward.

Chaewon approached slowly, her steps hesitant as if she were still deciding whether to stay or turn back. “Y/N,” she said softly when she was close enough to be heard.

Y/N set her mug down, her fingers trembling slightly. “Hi, Chaewon.”

It was such a small exchange, but the weight of it made Y/N’s chest tighten.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Chaewon asked, gesturing to the seat across from her.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chaewon slid into the chair, setting her umbrella against the table. They sat in silence for a moment, the air between them heavy with unspoken words.

“You still come here?” Chaewon asked, her tone soft, almost hesitant.

“Sometimes,” Y/N admitted. “It’s… familiar.”

Chaewon nodded, her gaze dropping to the table. “I haven’t been here in a while.”

Y/N wanted to ask why, but she already knew the answer. This place held too much of them, their laughter and shared dreams woven into the fabric of the walls.

Their conversation began cautiously, like walking on fragile ice. They talked about the café, the rain, even the lattes. Safe topics. Neutral ground. But beneath the surface, the weight of everything left unsaid threatened to pull them under.

It was Y/N who finally broke the delicate balance.

“Chaewon,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I… I’ve missed you.”

Chaewon’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, and for a moment, Y/N saw every emotion Chaewon tried to hide—pain, longing, and something that looked dangerously like hope.

“I’ve missed you too,” Chaewon admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “More than I can put into words.”

Y/N’s heart ached at the honesty in her tone. “Then why?” she asked, the question escaping before she could stop it. “Why did you let me go?”

Chaewon looked away, her jaw tightening. “Because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was protecting you. I didn’t want you to feel trapped in a relationship where I couldn’t give you everything you deserved.”

“I never felt trapped,” Y/N said softly. “I felt loved.”

Chaewon’s hands clenched into fists on the table. “I know,” she said after a long pause. “But I didn’t know how to balance everything. The group, the fans, my responsibilities… I thought I was doing the right thing, but all I’ve done is hurt you. Hurt myself.”

The rain outside grew heavier, the rhythmic tapping against the glass filling the silence that followed. Y/N stared at her hands, her mind racing.

“I’ve been struggling too,” she said finally, her voice shaky. “I keep wondering what I could’ve done differently, if I could’ve been more patient, more understanding.”

“You were more than enough,” Chaewon said quickly, her voice firm. “Y/N, don’t think for a second that this was your fault. It was me. I’m the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Y/N looked up at her, and for the first time in weeks, she saw the Chaewon she fell in love with—not the idol, not the leader, but the girl who wore her heart on her sleeve when she thought no one was looking.

“Then why does it still hurt so much?” Y/N asked, her voice cracking.

Chaewon reached across the table, her hand hovering over Y/N’s as if unsure whether she had the right to touch her. “Because we both care too much to let it go,” she said softly.

Y/N hesitated, then turned her hand over, letting Chaewon’s fingers intertwine with hers. The warmth of her touch was both familiar and foreign, a reminder of everything they’d shared and everything they’d lost.

The rain continued to fall, blurring the world outside the window. To Y/N, it felt like a reflection of her own heart—cleansing, yet heavy with the weight of the past.

Chaewon’s thumb brushed gently against the back of Y/N’s hand. “I don’t know if we can fix this,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

Y/N’s breath caught, her chest tightening with a mix of relief, sadness, and hope. She wanted to say yes, to take the leap and trust that they could find their way back to each other. But fear held her back. Fear of repeating the same mistakes, of reopening wounds that hadn’t yet healed.

“I don’t know if I can go through losing you again,” Y/N said quietly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“You won’t,” Chaewon said, her voice steady despite the tears in her own eyes. “I won’t let that happen. Not this time.”

They sat there for what felt like hours, their hands clasped together, the rain outside a steady backdrop to their tentative reunion. The storm inside Y/N’s heart hadn’t cleared entirely, but for the first time in a long while, she felt the faintest glimmer of hope.

And for now, that was enough.

Eventually, the café grew quieter as the few remaining patrons began to leave. Chaewon glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at Y/N. “We should probably go,” she said softly, though her tone carried a reluctance to let the moment end.

Y/N nodded, her hand slipping from Chaewon’s as she reached for her coat. The warmth of their connection lingered, even as they gathered their things and headed for the door.

The rain had eased by the time they stepped outside, but the sky still hung heavy with gray clouds. A cool breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees, carrying the faint scent of wet pavement. Y/N and Chaewon stood beneath the café awning, sharing a single umbrella.

For a moment, neither spoke. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the soft patter of rain and the faint hum of distant traffic.

Y/N shifted the umbrella slightly to shield Chaewon from the drizzle, her fingers brushing against Chaewon’s hand on the handle. The touch sent a familiar spark through her, a sensation she hadn’t felt in what felt like a lifetime.

“Do you want to walk for a bit?” Chaewon asked, her voice tentative.

Y/N nodded, and they began to move down the quiet street, the umbrella hovering between them like a fragile truce.

They walked in silence at first, the rhythm of their footsteps syncing as if they’d never been apart. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at Chaewon from time to time, taking in the way her damp hair clung to her face, the way her shoulders hunched slightly against the cold.

It was all so familiar yet distant, like looking at an old photo through a foggy window.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again,” Chaewon said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, almost drowned out by the rain.

Y/N hesitated, her grip tightening on the umbrella. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to,” she admitted, her words heavier than she intended. “It hurt too much.”

Chaewon stopped walking, and Y/N paused a step ahead, turning to face her. Chaewon’s expression was open, vulnerable in a way Y/N hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I know,” Chaewon said. “I hurt you. And I’ve been hurting too.” She took a deep breath, as if steadying herself. “I thought I was doing the right thing back then, letting you go. I thought it would make things easier for both of us.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her chest tightening. “Did it?”

Chaewon shook her head, a small, rueful smile tugging at her lips. “Not even a little.”

They resumed walking, slower this time. Chaewon spoke again, her words hesitant. “I’ve thought about you every day, Y/N. Wondered if you were okay, if you hated me, if…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“If what?” Y/N prompted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“If you still cared.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in Chaewon’s tone. She stopped walking, turning to face her fully. “Of course I care,” she said, her voice trembling. “How could I not? You were everything to me.”

Chaewon looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “You still are to me,” she said softly.

The confession hung between them, heavy with meaning. Y/N’s breath caught, the weight of her emotions crashing down on her all at once.

“Chaewon…” she began, but she didn’t know how to finish.

Chaewon took a small step closer, her gaze searching Y/N’s. “I still love you,” she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in it. “I always have. But I won’t ask you to come back to me, not if you’re not ready. Not if you’re not sure.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. The words she wanted to say were tangled in her throat, caught between her heart and her fear.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said finally, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can go through it again, Chaewon. I’m scared.”

Chaewon nodded, her expression filled with understanding. “I know. And I don’t want to hurt you again. But I also don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering what we could’ve been if we tried one more time.”

The clouds above them began to shift, a faint ray of sunlight breaking through the gray. It fell across the sidewalk, illuminating the rain-soaked world in a soft, golden glow.

Chaewon stepped back slightly, giving Y/N space. “I’ll leave the choice up to you,” she said quietly. “Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it.”

Y/N watched her for a long moment, her heart warring with itself. Part of her wanted to reach out, to take Chaewon’s hand and hold on as tightly as she could. But another part of her—tired, cautious, and still nursing old wounds—held her back.

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft rustling of the umbrella in the breeze.

Finally, Chaewon smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Take care of yourself, Y/N,” she said, her voice filled with quiet affection.

She turned and began to walk away, the umbrella no longer shielding her from the light drizzle.

Y/N stood there, clutching the handle of the umbrella, her fingers trembling. Her gaze fell to her other hand, where she had instinctively reached into her pocket and pulled out the bracelet Chaewon had given her so long ago. The delicate silver chain glinted in the faint sunlight, a tangible reminder of everything they’d shared.

She looked up again, watching as Chaewon’s figure grew smaller in the distance.

“If you…” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking as the words trailed off.

She didn’t finish the thought, but it hung in the air, heavy with the possibility of a future yet unwritten.

#chaewon x reader #le sserafim x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop x fem reader #kim chaewon x reader #girl group imagines #gg x reader

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