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pepshee · 1 month ago

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First Place

when you make a bet with your best friend—loser is forced to do what the winner wants—but his demands for you aren't exactly what you expected, but you're fully willing to comply.

Pairing - heeseung x fem!reader

Genre - friends with benefits, friends to ???, smut

Word count - 2k

Warnings - p in v, creampie, cliche, degrading (he calls reader a slut), fingering, mentions of other enha members, Mario kart mention, stripping, lmk if I missed anything!

A/N - I was gonna lowkey abandon writing but here I am.. back again... again, sorry if it's bad, and thank you to the anon in my inbox who gave me writing advice! i dont feel like using capitalization in this one so im not gonna... anyways.. enjoy! also yes im aware its kinda cliche

MDNI 18+

heeseung was always your best friend; he was always there when you needed him and vice versa. meeting him in high school was the best twist of fate ever. those four years would've ended up miserable had it been someone else.

there was a decent amount of girls after him, but that was never a bother. in fact, he was always your wingman, helping you find ways to ask out your crush without looking like a complete ditz. he had a couple of girlfriends throughout high school, but they never really lasted.

he was able to tell when you were upset and was somehow always able to pinpoint the reason. you'd never thought of him in a romantic light, although he was extremely attractive. it was like a forbidden fruit, something you were too scared to explore.

after graduation, applying to the same college as one another seemed scary. what if only one of you got in? what if neither of you got in? those worrying questions quickly disappeared when one day you both opened your results and found out you were both accepted.

he made new friends, and so did you, but one thing was that you never forgot each other. you both still regularly hung out and went to your usual coffee shops or shopping malls.

heeseung and his friends are at his dorm, and he had given you permission to come and go in his dorm without asking whenever you wanted whether he was there or not. his roommate, Jake, was hesitant about this at first, but just agreed to avoid drama, however, he grew to not mind it.

you were bored lying in your dorm room, so you got up to go to his dorm. upon walking in, you find him, his roommate, and his friends all huddled together in the living room, some on the couch, some on the floor, and the rest standing around. through a closer look, it wasn't hard to locate a couple of them, including heeseung, who were equipped with gaming controllers; they were playing video games.

one of his friends who wasn't playing hears the door opening and looks at you. you don't know his friends well, except for his roommate, but you did know their names.

the friend who saw you, jay, smirks upon noticing your presence. you didn't know the reason, but you just left it alone with a shrug of your shoulders. jay tapped heeseung—whose attention was occupied by whatever game it is that they're playing—and he replied without even looking away from the tv screen. "what is it? I'm trying to win, dude," he said. jay leaned into heeseung's ear and whispered something that you were unable to hear.

heeseung paused the game, earning him a few groans from his friends who also held controllers before turning his head to the door where you were standing. he smiled at you, "hey y/n! come here, we're all playing video games!" after walking over to him you both quickly realize there's no room on the couch for you to sit, but that problem didn't last very long. he hits his friend sitting next to him, sunghoon, not very hard but so sunghoon will know what heeseung is trying to get him to do.

sunghoon promptly got up, before you even got time to process him getting up, heeseung grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit down next to him on the couch. it wasn't hard to notice the looks and smirks his friends gave each other once he did this, but you didn't think anything of it.

"why'd you show up to my dorm this time?" he looked at you, the game still paused, but it seemed his friends were more focused on you two rather than the game now. you let out a small laugh at his comment, "i got bored so i came here, but you're already busy i see." he shakes his head, "i'm not busy, we're just playing games, now watch me win," he smirks, he's always been quite cocky but it's part of his charm.

he unpaused it and continued the competitive game with an intense focus. after a bit, the game was over, and well, heeseung didn't win, but that's not important. he throws a playful fit about losing, and after a bit, he turns to you. "hey, lets play the hardest map on mario kart and whoever loses gets to boss the loser around, but it's just us two," he grins at his own idea, hoping you accept.

he almost cheers when he sees you nod, and signals one of his friends to hand you a controller. he selects the map, and as the game starts, he's completely in the zone; he really wants to win, to have power over you.

after crossing the finish line for the final time, heeseung had won, which makes you let out a groan of disapproval. his friends all laugh as heeseung lightly pushes and teases you. "I knew you were a loser!" he teases, making you hit him on the shoulder. "knock it off, i hate you, you have more experience!" you argue back, and he just laughs.

"okay so now I get to tell you what to do," he smirks. you roll your eyes, but he suddenly shooes his friends out of his dorm while they shoot him knowing looks, and mocking kissing gestures. it's like they know something you don't, which makes you nervous. why would they leave that easily?

after they had left, heeseung shifts around in his seat and turns back to you. "so.. now I need to think about what I'm gonna make you do.. maybe me and jakes dishes? the laundry?" he says, basically talking to himself. he just sits there thinking for a moment, occasionally throwing out random ideas until his face changes, finally landing on one. "y/n, we've been friends for a long time, yeah?" you nod, waiting for him to continue. "you know.. you're really pretty, and I think I've made my decision..." your heart flutters for a second at the tone he used; he never really talked to you like this before. he's told you you're pretty, but the way he said it this time was different.

"strip for me," his tone completely serious, lacking any bit of sarcasm or signs that he's joking. your eyes go wide, and you look at him, bewildered at what he chose. "seriously? strip? hee—" he stopped you before you could finish, "I'm serious, I've always felt something towards you, this is my opportunity, I choose for you to strip," his tone lowering, you can see the desire and the hunger written in his eyes.

through your utter shock, you take a moment to think, he is attractive.. you've always thought he was. what's the harm in this? why not just do it?

you started by removing your hoodie. once he realized you were down for his demands, he couldn't look away. then you removed your shirt, followed by your pants, now just leaving you in your bra and underwear. heeseung was just sitting back, manspreading, smirking at you. he'd never seen you so exposed like this before. "so pretty, your body is so sexy," he commented, you could see the growing bulge in his grey sweatpants.

suddenly, he stood up, grabbing your wrist dragging you to his bed before promptly pushing you down onto it. he quickly crawled on top of you and smashed his lips onto yours. it was unexpected but not unwelcome as you kissed him back and moved one of your hands to bury your fingers in his hair. as the kiss continued, your grip on his hair got tighter, earning a groan from him, while one of his hands explored your thighs.

his hand made its way to the wet patch on your panties, touching you over the cotton. this caused you to let out a whine at the feeling; you wanted more, wanted him to touch you more. he clearly noticed this, "beg for it," he demanded. he clearly wasn't going to give it to you that easily even though it was his idea. "please heeseung, touch my pussy, please.." your pleas made his cock twitch in his boxers, he finally took your panties completely off, sliding them down your legs.

he ran his fingers slowly and teasingly through your already wet and slick folds. "all this for me? didn't think you loved the idea of fucking your best friend so much, you're just a slut aren't you?" his degrading words just fueled your desire for his cock even more even though it probably shouldn't.

he slowly inserted one finger into your cunt, the feeling causing a small moan to release itself from your mouth. he then added a second one and started out slowly moving his fingers in and out of your hole, but then he sped up and even curled the slightly making them hit your g-spot at just the right angle. you moaned at the pleasure that took over you as he continued to scissor his fingers inside of you. his thumb started to rub your clit further stimulating your pussy.

"heeseung im s' close—" he removed his fingers without warning, making you whine at the newfound emptiness. before you could even question, he removed his sweatpants and his shirt. you could feel the drool forming at the sight of his chest and physique, but then your eyes landed on something even more exciting, the stain on his boxers due to his leaking cock.

he removed his boxers next, his large cock springing out, the sight of it made your eyes widen. how would he even fit? "it'll fit baby, don't worry, I'll make it fit," he said almost as if he had read your mind. he ran the tip of his cock through your slick folds and gave himself a couple strokes before finally lining himself up with your entrance. "i'm gonna fuck this pussy so good you hear me?"

he was so eager he didn't even go slow this time; he immediately rammed himself into you, enjoying the sight of the slight bulge he created on your stomach. he pulled out almost fully before thrusting back in, he repeated this process, making you a moaning mess. it was hard to tell where one of you started and where the other ended, "seungie- p-please.. keep going," you begged him, and he listened. he wasn't going to stop until you both came. you could feel his tip grazing your cervix, his cock stretching your pussy so good. you'd had sex before, but you could already tell heeseung is the best you'll ever get.

"come on baby, i know you're close, you like this don't you? like being my little slut," he was right, you did like it, you were close, he knew how to read you like an open book. "gonna cum—" is all you could manage to get out as the pleasure took over you making it almost impossible to form coherent sentences. not long after your words you let go, your release painting his cock forming a white ring at his base as he continued his thrusts chasing his own orgasm. "hold on love, i'm almost there, you can take it," he encouraged. his thrusts started to grow sloppy; he was close. finally, he came, his release painting the inside of your gummy walls. you'd never had anyone cum in you, you'd always had them pull out, but heeseung was different. you wanted him to cum in you.

he rolled off of you, now lying beside you as he brushed a sweaty strand of your hair out of your face. he looked at your bra still covering your tits, he leaned in to your ear and whispered "next time, I'm gonna fuck these pretty tits. I was so caught up with your pussy your poor boobs didn't get any love," he said almost sounding genuinely upset and sympathetic for them.

you wanted to ask what you two were now, but a pang of fear hit you; you were scared of his answer, so you decided to stay silent. you wanted to stay awake, but exhaustion was catching up. no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you couldn't. you finally closed your eyes and fell asleep, heseung followed soon after.

i hope you all liked it!! i'm not too confident about this one but yk.. anyways, this is only like the 4th evber fic ive ever written..... im aware its kinda fast paced, i did rush it oops....

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tammyjackson50-blog · 2 months ago

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Hi!!

Just a random george clarke drabble request. Just maybe something like he meets reader's dog and LOVES her. like everytime he comes to reader's apartment he says something like "how're my two favourite girls?" sorry for the vague-ass request ahaha

Hey!!

So this is my first time doing a request, so I hope that you like it:)))

- His favorite girl's - G.C

George x Reader

You hear the knock at your door, and before you even open it, you know exactly how this is about to go.

The second you turn the handle, George walked in like he pays rent here.

"Where is she?” he asks, scanning the room like a detective in a crime drama.

Your dog’s already on high alert, little paws skittering against the floor as she runs toward him at full speed.

“There’s my girl!” George crouches just in time to catch her, scooping her up like she’s the most precious thing in the world. He lifts her in the air like she’s Simba while she licks his chin excitedly.

You cross your arms, leaning against the door. “No hello for me?”

George, still dramatically holding your dog, finally glances at you.

"Oh, hey.” Then he goes right back to smothering her in kisses. “You don’t wiggle when you see me. Maybe if you did, I’d say hi faster.”

You looked at him disgusted. “You want me to wiggle?”

He snorts, finally standing up, your dog in his arms. “I’m just saying, take some notes.”

You let out a sigh, walking past him. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”

George, completely ignoring you, sets your dog down and dramatically clutches his chest. “Every time I leave, I feel like I’m leaving a piece of my heart behind,” he tells her. “Does that make you sad? Well, it should.”

You shake your head, already moving to grab a drink from the fridge. “You do realize she forgets you exist, like, five minutes after you leave, right?”

George gasps “Take that back.”

“Nope.”

"She cries when I leave,” he argues.

“She literally just wants a treat.”

George glares. “You’re heartless.”

You smirk, taking a sip of your drink. “And you’re obsessed with my dog.”

George shrugs, stepping closer, hands settling lightly on your hips. “Maybe I’m just obsessed with you.”

Your stomach flips, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. “Mmm. Doesn't look like it”

His grin is all mischief. “You’re right. I love her way more.”

You shove at his chest, but he just laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in before you can escape. “Oi, where d’you think you’re going?”

"Anywhere that isn’t here,” you tease,

“Sounds fake,” he murmurs, and before you can say anything back, he kisses you,slow and warm, his hands sliding up to your facee.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, and just when you start to melt into it—

BARK

Your dog, actually offended, shoves her nose between your legs, whining like she’s caught you cheating.

George pulls back, absolutely losing it laughing. “She’s got jealous girlfriend energy.”

You groan, flopping your forehead against his chest. “I knew this would happen.”

George reaches down, petting your dog apologetically. “You’re right,I should’ve asked first.”

You stare up at him. “I hate you.”

He smirks, kissing the top of your head. “Nah. You love me.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Debatable”

But you’re smiling.

And George definitely sees it.

He grins, takes your hand, dropping onto your couch and pulling you down with him, slotting you against his side while your dog curls up directly on top of him like she planned this.

“I’m just lucky I’ve got both my favorite girls,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

---

Yeah, maybe I'm not creative or something, but I think that it's pretty okay :)

#George clarke #george clarkey x y/n #george clarkey x reader #fanfic #george clarke x reader

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neeeooon · 4 months ago

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Hi! Can I request Blue Lock boys with an S/O who is just as protective over them as they are? For example, defending them when someone is bitching about them or starting an argument w them for no reason. The boys deserve to be fought for too! Also I would like it if you write for the Itoshis, Isagi, Kaiser, Nagi, Barou and Zantetsu. I'm sorry if its a lot ㅠㅠ you can choose from these characters if its a lot. Thank you <33

YES ofc and i agree we need more defensive/protective y/n’s !! thank you for the request! <3

when you’re protective over them ;

bf bllk x protective gn!reader. cw: lots of cussing in isagi’s (by you), lowk harassment in barou’s, pet names (multiple in zantetsu’s)

itoshi sae

-> sae doesn’t care much for drama or defending himself. he’s blunt and he finds it pointless, since people will always find a way to entertain themselves one way or another

-> you are not like that

-> “oh my gosh, are you itoshi sae? can we get a picture with you?!” a group of high schoolers giggle and jump around your boyfriend in excitement, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he raises a hand. “no.”

-> “aw, come on, please? we’re your biggest—“ “did he stutter?” that shuts them up pretty quick. “no? hm, me neither! now, kindly leave :)”

-> they do ask told, grumbling about how mean you are, but you ignore them and turn to sae. “why don’t you fight them off or something? your space gets invaded all the time.” “they would have left eventually.” “hmph. good thing you have me to fight your public battles!”

-> sae doesn’t care enough to fight any battles, but he finds your protectiveness cute, so he pats your head and says, “perfect. good job, y/n.” you may have blushed

itoshi rin

-> you want to fight his brother so bad when rin finally tells you his side of their disagreement, but you don’t because you know some battles don’t involve you

-> others do. like the wannabe interviewer who approached your boyfriend one day to hound him for answers about his relationship with sae

-> “i, uh… i-i—“ “what the hell do you think you’re doing? get away from him!” you barely have time to look both ways before running across the street and throwing yourself between your pale boyfriend and the pushy “interviewer”

-> he groans at your interruption and pops an annoyed hand on his hip. “excuse me, we’re in the middle of something—“ “rin, do you want to talk to this guy?” rin shakes his head, and you raise a brow at the interviewer. “he said he doesn’t want to talk to you. that means leave before i make you leave.”

-> “you can’t threaten me! you should respect your elders, young—“ “it wasn’t a threat. it was an option. you can either walk away now, or crawl away later. the choice is yours.”

-> he chooses the former, leaving you with your shaken boyfriend. “are you okay? that guy was totally insensitive and pushy and… are you okay?” “i’m okay. thank you, y/n.” “don’t thank me. i’m here to love and protect you!”

isagi yoichi

-> isagi was raised in such a loving home. where do you think his potty mouth came from?

-> “touch a hair on his head again, and i’ll make you watch as i fuck your mother,” you spat at the boy writhing on the floor after punching him in the face

-> blinking at the scene before him, isagi shakily wraps a hand around your shoulder and pulls you away from the guy who’d dared to grab his hair while he was in your sight

-> “you didn’t have to punch him—“ “i’m sorry, i just really hate when people think they can put their dirty, disgusting, shitty hands all over you without asking. it’s so icky!”

-> he’s about to say ‘i can defend myself,’ but isagi likes having someone love him enough to defend him like you do. it makes him feel special, and he hopes you know he’d do the same if anyone tried messing with you

-> “you’re awesome, y/n.” “i know. kidding, you’re really fucking awesome too, yoichi!”

michael kaiser

-> you were already protective over kaiser before he told you about his past. knowing why he’s so stiff around older men just adds fuel to you protective flames

-> you’re shopping for groceries with kaiser when an older gentleman wearing a pxg jersey approaches, and you’re immediately on high alert

-> “hey, you’re that kid from, uh, bltv!” he scoffs, and you can feel kaiser’s grip tightening around your hand. “yeah, it’s you, alright. your teammates play dirty. you’re all d—“

-> you’re in his face before he can get the words out. “finish that sentence. i dare you.” you smile sweetly, but you know he can see the threat in your eyes. “see what happens.”

-> flustered, the gentleman hesitates a moment before turning and continuing his shopping elsewhere. you turn to see kaiser staring at you with wide eyes, his fingers wrapped loosely around his throat. “you… defended me?”

-> “of course i did,” you keep your movement casual, trying not to alarm him as you carefully pull his hand from his neck and knot your fingers together. “you’re mine. no one will ever speak to or about you like that as long as i’m here.”

nagi seishiro

-> nagi is too lazy to defend himself. which is where you come in!

-> you’re at a gaming cafe, searching for seats, when someone shoves past your boyfriend, knocking him back slightly from the force of the push

-> nagi would have brushed it off, but the guy puffs his chest out and puts his finger in your boyfriend’s face. “you gonna apologize, dick?”

-> nagi tries to slink away, but the guy goes to grab his hoodie, and your hand is on his wrist. “what the fuck do you—?!” “you’re not going to touch him again. grow a pair and get the fuck out of our way.” “!!!”

-> but he must see how dark your stare is, because the guy shivers and pulls himself from your grip so he can leave

-> sighing, nagi drapes a loose arm around you shoulders and pulls you into his side. “what a hassle. you didn’t have to do that.” “yes, i did. someone’s gotta defend you, ya lazy boy.” “lame… i love you.” you kiss his cheek. “i love you, too.”

barou shouei

-> it’s not like barou needs your protection. that doesn’t mean you aren’t protective of him, anyway

-> with soccer comes fame, and with fame comes fans. some who think they have some sort of claim over your boyfriend and his body

-> barou is signing some autographs for the ubers when a little group of fans, a mix of energetic men and women who are a bit too old to be staring at your boyfriend the way they are, approach

-> you know barou isn’t allowed to reject or shove them when they invade his space, but when you see one of them give his bicep a squeeze, another reaching for his waist, you see red

-> “absolutely not,” you grab the back of the person’s collar and tug, causing them to flail and stumble away from your boyfriend. “you can take your signature and photo, but you do not have the right to put your hands on him.”

-> offended and embarrassed, the group leaves, and you feel barou slip a hand over the small of your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “that was sexy. who knew you’d get so protective over me?” “um, me. no one can run their hands over your body but me.” “mmm, deal.”

zantetsu tsurugi

-> you hate how people call your boyfriend dumb, and you hate that he believes them

-> he may not be the most intelligent guy around, but that doesn’t make him “stupid” or “useless”, and you will (and have) willingly throw hands with anyone who insults him

-> you’re waiting outside your boyfriend’s classroom when he emerges with two students following close behind, berating him over a problem he solved incorrectly in front of the class

-> “how have you not been held back, ya dummy?” “my baby sister could solve that problem, and she’s six!” “yeah! dumba—“ they freeze when they see you and visibly cower

-> cocking an amused brow, you’re glad to see that your reputation proceeds you. “you know who i am, don’t you?” they nod. “and you know who he is to me, hm?” they nod. you smile. “good. i’ll give you three seconds to apologize, or i’m taking your tongues and stapling them to your foreheads.”

-> they run off, leaving you alone with your pouty boyfriend. you instantly cup his face and scan his features with concern. “what’s wrong, sweet boy? did anyone else say something to you?”

-> zantetsu huffs, his cheeks puffed slightly between your hands. “won’t you get in trouble for yelling at them? it’s not like they were wrong…” “oh no, baby, not for that. bullies get what they deserve. and you’re not dumb! you’ll tell me if anyone else says anything mean, won’t you?” he nods. “i will :3” “good boy!”

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7-deadly-cats · 1 month ago

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killing me softly | 13

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, reader smokes weed and drinks alcohol, reader being silly and bold (yas girl), rafe does and sells coke, verbal tension, kinda angsty but also fluff, a little reader x random guy, rafe showing mixed signals/jealousy/possessiveness/DENIAL/heavy mood swings (but of course he doesn't name it as such), mentions of vomiting (non-graphic), also subtle implication of rafe having sexual thoughts about reader (just hints + non-graphic)

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ thursday afternoon, cara helped you pick out an outfit for the party and she even managed to get you excited for the night. on friday, after econ class, you and rafe had a little run-in with ruthie and her bsf gracie (his ex-fwb/whatever), where you managed to politely get ruthie to shut her mouth. later, rafe got pissed when he found out topper had texted you and offered to give you a ride to the party. topper claimed he was just mad bc of the ruthie situation and he'd talk to him later. surprisingly, rafe texted you after school saying he would pick you up instead, claiming topper decided on taking ruthie and her friends. but the truth was (revealed in the extra scene UNKNOWN to reader) rafe got so mad with topper that he'd basically told topper to go fuck himself, leaving topper to drive ruthie's gang. rafe decides to drive you himself bc you're the only one he actually tolerates rn and also bc he doesn't wanna hear you whine about not having gotten a ride.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 8k+ (sorry)

✿ A / N ✿ guys, this was one of the hardest things to write and i'm the most stupid person alive for not having made a plot outline of KMS beforehand (i didn't even think i'd get past the second chapter ngl). i tried to include different kind of scenes and moods for the party setting without making it seem like pressuring reader and rafe into a dynamic that'd feels off or rushed but still i feel like i kinda made it flop. please please please lmk what you think and i hope you enjoy reading it anyway <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // F R I D A Y

Deep breath, brain off. I got this.

DON’T FORGET TO EXHALE.

“Hey,” you said with a hesitant smile as you opened the passenger door of the black Mercedes. And oh boy, you felt just as awkward as you had on Monday, the first time you two had actually talked.

Because this? This was a whole different level. A whole fucking different league. Because holy shit—this wasn’t school-related. You weren’t being forced to meet for a project or anything.

No, this was completely casual.

Even if Rafe’s invite to Kelce’s party was supposed to get you out of your shell and (quote) “fuck your brain out” (which—absolutely not happening tonight, wtf), he was still here voluntarily.

It had been his decision to invite you. His decision to come pick you up. And honestly? All the other stuff—the project meetups the past few days—were all initiated by him too (which, thinking about it now, made you a pretty shitty project partner, oops).

And that was what made this whole situation feel so intimate. It created this weirdly charged atmosphere that clearly only you seemed to notice (of course the ungodly hour didn’t help, nor did the fact that he was picking you up FROM YOUR HOUSE and now you were alone together in his car hahaha(very funny, yeah)).

Rafe turned down the music (some Kendrick Lamar track) and looked you over with a crooked smile (we’re talking full-on checking you out). “Damn, you really dressed up.”

DHGHCNGXFUDNJFKNGIKCDFJS.

A COMPLIMENT, RIGHT???

You smiled shyly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Still, you raised a brow and met his blue eyes with a playful glimmer. “I guess I look like shit the other days then.”

Rafe scoffed, amused. “Shit, jusy say ‘thank you’ and shut your ass.”

IT WAS A COMPLIMENT.

Okay but—NOPE GIRL, NOT TONIGHT.

“Thanks,” you said, the butterflies in your stomach going absolutely feral. And then, feeling bad for not having something to say about his looks, you added: “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

OKAY SLOW IT DOWN, BRAIN OFF DOESN’T MEAN ZERO FILTERS. STAY COOL!!!!

But still, it was true. Rafe looked fucking good. The fresh aftershave lingering in the air? HOLY SHIT. But even that couldn’t top the look itself.

He was wearing a loose white button-up—partially unbuttoned (MHM)—with subtle vertical stripes, a silver chain resting against his collarbones, and whatever was under the shirt, your eyes didn’t even dare look at, afraid he’d catch you staring. And his hair wasn’t slicked back today—he had it styled into curtain bangs AND OVMFKNJDNVKFDHLSK.

Rafe raised his brows, smiling. “Yeah?”

OH UM OKAY??? NO DUMB COMMENT OR SOME SHIT???

You gave a surprised smile, awkward as hell, and your eyes flicked to his hair. “Yeah, I mean… your hair's different, right? Suits you better than the other one.”

You had to literally bite your tongue to stop yourself from backtracking, from explaining that the other hairstyle wasn’t bad per se, but this one just looked better without sounding like—

“Shit, is that a compliment or a polite insult?” Rafe shot back with a smug teasing grin, starting the engine.

Cool cool I’ll just get out of the car and crawl back into bed now, thanks.

You fiddled with the strap of your bag in your lap and gave a nervous smile. “A positive observation.”

“A—Jesus Christ, your game is ass,” Rafe said with a chuckle as he pulled out of your driveway.

You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating. Then (fuck it): “Who says I’m playing?”

Rafe shot you a quick look, his smile widening, something weird glimmering in his eyes, before he turned his attention back to the road.

Okay, sir????

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Nothing.” Rafe shrugged, the smirk still on his face. “You ever even made out with a guy before?”

WHAT.

You furrowed your brows, painfully aware of the heat in your cheeks, and turned your gaze to the lights flashing by outside the window. “Can we not.”

“So that’s a no.”

NO I HAVEN’T YOU ASSHOLE.

“Why does that even matter?” you asked frowning.

But of course Rafe didn’t notice—or maybe he did, and he enjoyed it. In the reflection of the window, you could see his smug-ass smile.

“Well, maybe you should deal with that first before you try to go all in tonight,” he said, eyes still on the road.

And because you were REALLY not in the mood to listen to this kind of shit all night, you looked at him, clearly annoyed. “Okay, seriously, why are you so obsessed with my sex life or whether I get laid?”

WHEW GIRL OKAY.

Even Rafe gave you a quick, surprised glance, then let out this dumb little chuckle like what you said was so ridiculous. “Shit, that’s why you’re coming to the party tonight. So your crazy-ass brain can finally shut off.”

An uneasy feeling creeped up your chest—thoughts bubbling up, the sudden worry that maybe this whole thing was a joke to him. That you were just something to keep him busy tonight, some kind of project. But you pushed it down.

Actually, NO—you weren’t gonna let that sit. If he was really just here out of boredom, treating you like some throwaway experiment, then bye. He could take you right back home.

Because crush or not, you weren’t about to let him treat you like some kind of piñata.

“Okay, for real, this is getting on my nerves,” you said, and the sharpness in your voice? Yeah, he better hear it. “I know I have a problem with overthinking, okay? I know that. But getting drunk and letting some random guy rail me at a party?” You let out a dry laugh. “If you really think sex fixes everything, then you’ve got a way bigger problem than I do.”

You half-expected him to pull over and kick you out of the car (tbh, with Rafe you never knew), but instead he just scoffed, still looking at the road ahead. “See? That’s pent-up tension. A simple fling or a makeout would fix that.”

“Well, I guess, you can turn around then.”

Rafe laughed. “What?”

“You clearly invited me so some guy could get in my pants,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice was sharp, not exactly angry—more like fed up. ��But that’s not gonna happen. So I might as well just stay home.”

Rafe glanced over at you, actual confusion on his face. “You actually going crazy right now?”

“No, you’re crazy for inviting me and acting like I’m—I don’t know, just some fucking project for tonight.” Your heart pounded hard in your chest, all the pressure you’d been holding in since this afternoon choosing now to break out. “Like, is that the plan? Throw me at one of your friends like I’m some kind of …sex doll?”

That thought had been hiding somewhere deep in your subconscious, and the fear that it might actually be true cracked through in the shakiness of your voice.

And now that it was out in the open—spoken, thought, real—your chest tightened, and whatever excitement you’d had about this night started twisting into—

“Holy shit, what?” Rafe looked over at you, visibly thrown off. “That’s actually insane.”

“Is it? Because that’s exactly what it feels like.”

Rafe didn’t say anything for a second. Just stared ahead with his jaw clenched. His brows twitched, then froze—his face unreadable, some emotion you couldn’t place.

Your heart was racing, nerves buzzing. You half expected him to turn the car around, drop you back off, maybe confirm your fear with some offhand joke.

But instead, his voice came quiet, serious: “Did Kelce or Topper put that shit in your head?”

You blinked. “What, no.”

“Then why the fuck would you think that?”

“I just told you.”

Silence. Just Travis Scott playing low in the background. Oh—and your fucking heart, hammering in your ears.

“If this is some pick-me girl attempt to—”

“No, what? Why would you even—okay, you know what, forget it,” you cut him off bitterly. “Clearly it’s impossible to have a normal conversation—”

“Jesus Christ, what would I even gain out of throwing you at some desperate fucker at a party, huh?” He motioned to himself with one hand, a pissed-off smile on his face. “As if I’m out here playing wingman for some asshole.”

Your knuckles hurt from how tightly you were gripping your bag. “Then I don’t get why you keep bringing it up.”

Rafe dragged a hand down his face, subtly shaking his head. “A joke, okay? It's just a fucking stupid joke, holy shit.” His voice was tight, barely holding back the tension, but there was a rough softness in it too. Like he was trying not to escalate. “Seriously, why do you spiral so hard over everything?”

“Because that’s what I do, okay?” You turned your body toward him, tapping your fingers against your temples like an actual maniac. “I overthink and spiral and if you keep repeating the same shit every fucking day, it doesn’t help—it just makes it worse, whether it’s a fucking joke or not.”

Rafe pulled the car over and cut the engine. For a second, you really thought he was gonna kick you out—but then you realized you were already parked in Kelce’s driveway.

Now he turned toward you, one arm resting on the steering wheel, brows furrowed deep. He pointed toward the house. “We’re gonna walk in there, Kelce’s gonna roll you a joint, and you’re gonna take the fattest fucking hit of your life. Then you’re gonna throw your goddamn brain in the trash and chill the fuck out.”

You blinked. Had he even listened to what you just—

He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Fucking stop that. Seriously, I can hear the crazy-ass voices in your head.” He motioned to himself with a tense laugh. “Shit's making me nervous.”

And that—that utterly ridiculous idea that Rafe fucking Cameron felt nervous, and because of you—that made you let out a shocked, almost disbelieving laugh.

“You know,” you said, voice softer now with a hint of amusement, “telling me I’m crazy doesn’t actually help either.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Rafe muttered, no real bite in his tone, as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Get your ass out of the car before Kelce starts getting ideas. And neither of us wants to deal with that shit right now.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

"Poor Top, now he has to deal with Ruthie’s bullshit," Kelce said as he leaned back on the couch, grinding the weed.

The three of you had settled on the back porch. No sign of guests yet (technically the party didn’t start till ten), but everything was already set up.

In the kitchen, there were all kinds of snacks in glass bowls, paper towels, and red cups everywhere, lit up like a club thanks to LED strips and fairy lights which also ran outside across the yard.

And of course, there was a whole damn bar—yes, Kelce’s family just casually had a legit bar in their backyard, with taps, shakers, and everything. It looked like a museum of alcohol. Four hookahs were set up in different corners, fully stocked with tobacco and coals, plus tables for beer pong and a pool filled with inflatable balls and flamingos.

And the wildest part of it all? The insane speaker system in the living room, hooked up through a network of cables so music played both inside and out.

Future was already blasting at a volume that felt like a preview of how loud shit was gonna get later. For now, though, it felt like the calm before the storm.

Which made the joint all the more welcome.

“More like his mom’s bullshit,” Rafe replied, taking a sip of his beer. “She won’t let him out of the office before ten.”

Kelce nodded and started rolling. “Oh yeah, right. That lady’s just straight up insane. Ruthie doesn’t even come close.”

“Shit, that bitch probably reminds him of his mom. That’s why he’s chasing after her in the first place,” Rafe said with a scoff.

Both of them chuckled at the same time, and for once, they actually seemed like friends—not like... bully and victim.

And honestly, you kinda felt like a third wheel.

“What about you? Cara showing up later or what?” Kelce asked, glancing over at you for a second before going back to rolling.

You were a little thrown by the question at first, then remembered—right, you’d talked about it in history class. With him and Topper, actually.

After Rafe had stormed off today, Topper had invited you to sit with them, and well, not wanting to be an asshole (especially since Topper had been so chill and polite), you’d joined them.

And it turned out, without Rafe around, both guys were actually decent company. Topper anyway, but even Kelce hadn’t seemed like such a loudmouth—just someone who liked to talk.

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah, she’s coming around twelve. If that’s cool.”

Kelce grinned. “Shii, of course. A hot girl’s always welcome.”

Even you had to smile at that because damn right, Cara was hot af.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe shift in his seat and scratch at his chin. "Dude, you done yet?"

"Perfection takes time, okay?" Kelce said, then turned to you. "You wanna lick it or should I?"

UM... He hadn’t even said it in a teasing tone but still like—

You shook your head with a polite smile. “You do it. I’ll probably mess it up.”

NO WAY were you gonna go over there and lick a joint in front of both of them like ?? excuse me???

“Your tongue game can’t be that bad,” Kelce said, but he went ahead and sealed the joint anyway.

PLEASE, the party hadn’t even started yet. Jesus.

“You want me to beat his ass?” Rafe asked with a deadpan expression, and you had NO idea if he was joking or being serious.

Either way—THE BUTTERFLIES WENT FERAL FOR THAT BECAUSE OMG WHAT???

Not sure what to say, you just let out a nervous chuckle and were thankful when Kelce jumped in, holding the finished joint up like a trophy. “No need for violence. This bad boy’s ready to be smoked.”

After Kelce gave you a quick rundown on how to hit it best (you knew from Cara, but he looked so excited to explain you didn’t wanna interrupt), you took a deep inhale and let the smoke roll through your lungs and—fuck, it scratched the hell out of your throat.

You really tried to hold it in, but you were already leaning forward and having a mini coughing fit.

Ugh. Classic.

“Dude, here,” Kelce said, holding your beer out to you.

You smiled awkwardly, eyes watery, still half-coughing, and took the bottle from him. Then, out of pure secondhand embarrassment, you started laughing—only to choke a bit on the beer and end up patting your chest. “Sorry.”

Kelce grinned, taking the joint back from you with a shrug. “It’s cool. Ask Rafe. Dude coughs up a whole lung every damn time.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe shot back, but even he had a little grin on his face, those blue eyes of his watching you with quiet amusement.

And you just smiled back, a soft giggle slipping out, your face finally relaxing. That whole insane argument in the car earlier? Not even worth thinking about anymore.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Quit giggling,” Rafe said, hiding a smirk while mixing himself a Jäger-Bull drink in the kitchen.

It was just after 10, and where the house had stood quiet earlier, now it was packed with dozens of guests. The music had kicked up a notch.

Most of them you recognized from school or around town (just from seeing them though). Basically all frat boys, gym bros, wannabe influencer girls/self-proclaimed kook princesses, or gossiping drama queens.

In short: people you couldn’t stand.

And while Kelce played the perfect host—probably spending the next thirty minutes loudly greeting people and taking shots with half of them—you and Rafe had ducked into the kitchen.

And yeah, HE had asked you to come with him. Or, well, kind of. Said something along the lines of “Shit, let’s dip until the first zombie wave passes.”

Obviously, you’d followed him, because (A) it was the obvious choice, (B) who the hell else were you supposed to hang with??? and (C) ... you were way too high to argue anyway.

Ever since your second hit, your whole body had been wrapped in this soft, warm glow, your thoughts nearly (!!!) silenced, and you couldn’t stop smiling and giggling. You were probably looking at him with total heart-eyes right now, but honestly? You felt too good to care.

“Sorry, I just—” you let out another amused chuckle, grabbing some snacks from one of the glass bowls while watching his hands. “That was kinda petty.”

Rafe scoffed and flicked open the Jägermeister bottle. “Nah. If he acts like a little bitch, he gets treated like one.”

Oh, right, context:

Topper had shown up earlier—or more accurately, waddled in behind Ruthie and her girl gang. And surprise, surprise, the second they got what they wanted (aka a ride), they vanished into the bathroom. Poor Topper got left behind, dapping up Kelce while Rafe had stayed on the porch couch, holding his beer in his lap, only giving Topper a slight nod.

You, at least, had had the decency to give him a smile and a small wave—not even feeling awkward about the obvious tension between him and Rafe, which you seemed to be the cause of, but whatever (that joint had absolutely softened your brain).

Meaning, that Rafe had probably just wanted to get away from Topper more than he actually wanted to hang with you, but WHO CARED.

You raised your brows at him, amused. “What even happened though? I can’t believe you’re this pissed just ‘cause he drove Ruthie.”

“Shit, of course. That’s a fucked up move,” Rafe said, now cracking open a Red Bull.

“I don’t buy that,” you replied, cheeks warming a little when he met your eyes. “I mean, I can't believe you'd back down for Ruthie.”

He raised a brow. “You’re being nosy as fuck right now.”

“I mean you were already acting weird at school when Topper mentioned he’d give me a ride,” you said, and um, yeah, WHY did you say that?

Rafe paused, tilting his head slightly, his whole expression switching to defense mode. “Shit, you think this is about you or something?”

You chuckled (girl, get it together) and squinted at him. “I’m just saying, it’s kinda funny how Topper suddenly ends up driving Ruthie even though he told me earlier I didn’t have to worry about a ride. And then you text me, offering to drive instead.”

Okay, maybe you were pushing it a little too far because Rafe looked at you with a frown. "Okay, what the fuck are you trying to say, huh?" he scoffed, disbelief in his voice, gesturing to his chest with an irritated smile. "You think I’m jealous or some shit?"

His reaction just made you giggle (girl next time, just take one hit). “I don’t know—”

“Okay, fuck no, jesus, what the fuck.” Rafe cut you off, shaking his head and squinting like you were giving him a headache. He gestured toward you now. “I picked you up so you wouldn’t end up bitching to me about how Topper ditched you for Ruthie, alright?” Then he motioned between the two of you. “You’re not seriously getting the wrong idea here or anything, right?”

Your smile faded, and then, panicking that your face might give something away, you just shook your head with a baffled little laugh. “What? No, oh my god, I just—I was just saying—”

“Yo, Rafe, there you are!”

Your mouth snapped shut as some guy from school walked into the kitchen, heading straight for Rafe and dapping him up.

Ugh, okay—not just some guy. That was Chris Reid. A walking jock stereotype.

Blonde hair, athletic build, tanned as hell, and captain of the football team. An asshole… and a full head taller than Rafe.

“Kelce said you'd be in here,” Chris said, and his stupid grin landed on you next, eyes scanning you in a way you did not appreciate. “This your girl?”

Heat crept up your neck, and when you caught Rafe’s dark look, you suddenly just wanted to leave. You felt completely unwelcome.

“You actually want something, or are you just here to creep on girls?” Rafe said with a crooked smile, not taking his eyes off Chris.

Reid’s grin only deepened. “Me? Come on, dude, I’d never hit on someone’s girl.” His eyes flicked back to you for a split second, almost like a provocation, before settling on Rafe again. “Nah, I heard you brought some yayo.”

...

Seriously?

You knew Rafe liked to mess around a little at parties, and okay… apparently during the last couple school days too, but dealing?

If you weren’t so high, it would probably hit you harder. But right now, you were just standing there awkwardly, a smile glued to your face because you had no clue what else to do.

Rafe’s eyebrows twitched, like his face couldn’t decide whether to go with annoyed or full on pissed off.

You honestly thought he might swing at Chris and Chris clearly thought the same because he just let out this cocky little chuckle. “Hey, I get it, if you wanna play the sweet little boyfriend role—”

“I’m not her fucking boyfriend,” Rafe finally snapped, his voice cutting through the room hard enough to startle you. He ran a hand down his face, clearly irritated. “You even got cash on you?”

Chris looked between the two of you, that gross little grin still on his face. “Of course.” Then he nodded toward the hallway. “You coming? Sounds like you could use some too.”

Rafe’s jaw tensed, and every part of you hoped he wouldn’t just leave you standing there. But he sighed, frowning, and motioned vaguely with his hand. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Waiting in the guest room then.” Chris gave you one last smirk before turning and disappearing down the hall—and something ugly and heavy settled in your chest.

It’s not like you expected Rafe to be your bestie tonight, and definitely not to act like you were his or anything—wtf, no, omg??? No. That would be peak delusion, holy shit.

No, you’d just kinda hoped… well, yeah, what had you hoped for?

Rafe didn’t owe you anything. He had every right to do what he wanted at this party, with whoever he wanted. He’d invited you as a guest, not as his date.

But still, this hollow feeling crept up and wrapped around your chest, sobering you faster than anything else could’ve.

“I assume you can handle yourself for ten minutes,” Rafe muttered, eyes dull like even he knew he’d just given in to some jock-asshole. There was this weird tone in his voice too, something tired and flat. “Unless you wanna come along and give it a try?”

Your cheeks already hurt from all the fake smiling but this one was worse, because now you weren’t smiling from comfort but because you had no idea what else to do.

You shook your head, chuckling awkwardly, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Oh, no thanks. I’m good here.”

No way in hell you’d do a line in this environment. Plus, being around Reid made your skin crawl. And if Rafe had actually wanted you there with him… well, girl, it doesn’t matter. Let the guy do his thing. Don’t get clingy.

Rafe seemed to hesitate, big blue eyes staring at you with his jaw clenching slightly, then he just nodded and muttered, “Aight,” before following Chris down the hallway.

Something deep inside your chest twisted painfully as you were left alone in the kitchen. Suddenly, this whole party felt like the dumbest decision you’d ever made.

Technically Rafe didn’t even do anything wrong. He didn't owe you any kind of loyalty. But still, the way he’d made very clear that he’d had no interest in you.

Yeah, that stung. Made you feel hurt. Stupid.

The fact that you'd actually—seriously—believed that Rafe might see you as anything even remotely—

“You okay?”

You looked up, startled, as Topper stepped into the kitchen holding a beer, a genuinely concerned look on his face.

Once again, that default smile found its way to your face—probably from relief at seeing someone friendly. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to get a drink,” you lied, gesturing to the untouched cup Rafe had left behind.

Topper glanced at the bottles nearby and raised his eyebrows. “You drink Jägermeister?”

Um…

“Lemme guess. Rafe dipped,” Topper said, now frowning.

The fact that he acknowledged it out loud just made it even more embarrassing.

“Well, he went off with some guy to…” you started, not sure how to finish the sentence.

“Snort coke,” Topper finished for you, clearly annoyed.

You nodded silently.

“He’s such a fucking idiot, I swear to God,” he said, setting his own cup down on the counter with a sigh. “Sorry he’s being such an asshole.”

You raised your brows, not quite following. “It’s fine. I guess that’s just his version of having fun.”

“That’s his version of being stupid,” Topper shot back, brows pulling together. “First he blows up at me about the whole driving situation, then he ditches you? The guy doesn’t know what the hell he wants.”

OH, WHAT???

“Sorry, what?” you asked carefully, trying not to sound too curious.

Topper leaned against the counter, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay, what did he tell you—why I couldn’t drive you?”

Your eyebrows twitched, a sinking feeling already forming. “Well, he said you were picking up Ruthie and her girls, and that’s why he picked me up instead—so I wouldn’t get upset or whatever.”

“He made it sound like I decided that, didn’t he?”

... oh my god. OH MY GOD. DID THAT MEAN...?

“He didn’t say it explicitly, but—”

“What a fucking idiot. I can’t believe it,” Topper said, scoffing and shaking his head. “Ugh, and I’m the dumbass for letting his bullshit slide.” His gaze softened as it met yours. “Honestly, I’m sorry this turned into such a mess.”

You smiled—this time for real—a warm feeling blooming in your chest at the fact that he actually cared, though part of you was still confused why he seemed so riled up about all this.

“It’s all good, really. Just the fact you even offered me a ride in the first place means a lot.”

Topper nodded, then hesitated before saying, “Cara told me you weren’t sure about coming tonight. Or more like... didn’t feel great about going without her.”

God, at this point you didn’t even know who had texted what to whom anymore.

Also, you probably should’ve been a little annoyed that Cara had shared that with him but if you were being honest, you’d kind of figured that out the moment she’d asked Topper to give you a ride. And right now, you didn’t even care, because honestly? You were just glad not to be standing alone in some random corner.

So you nodded, a little embarrassed. “Well, yeah. I mean, I barely know anyone here.” You chuckled awkwardly. “And it just feels weird showing up to a party by yourself.”

But instead of laughing or making some dumb comment, Topper just furrowed his brows. “And that idiot still left you here?”

“What? Yeah—I mean, no,” you said, smiling nervously. “He’s free to do whatever he wants.”

Topper just looked at you for a second, his expression softening like he was trying to figure you out. Then he nodded, grabbing his drink again. "So are you", he said and tilted his head toward the door. “Me and a buddy are looking for two beer pong players. Was actually trying to find Kelce, but I think he’s stuck playing party host for a while. You down?”

You didn’t even think—just nodded with a smile, cheeks still warm from the aftereffects of the joint, and relieved to be included in something,. “Sure.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Damn, nice shot!”

You high-fived Rob as he held his hand up after you landed the ball in one of the opposing team’s cups.

“Thanks,” you said with a sheepish smile.

Rob—who was actually named Robert Lewis—had come all the way from Wilmington for Kelce’s party, and even though he was technically Topper’s rival in bigger surf tournaments, the two of them still seemed to be really good friends. And we’re not talking about that performative, hyper-masculine/bro-chill/we-might-be-toxic kind of guy friendship either—like, they were actually genuine.

Topper had even told you Rob was the better surfer by far, but the guy didn’t flaunt it or tease him about it. It was kinda sweet.

And Rob was sweet to you too. He’d greeted you right away, offered you a handshake (like, okay, manners king??), introduced himself, and was excited to play on your team.

Long story short: he wasn’t some Kook from Figure 8, and it showed.

Topper was teamed up with Molly Crane. WHICH WAS A FUCKING CELEBRATION FOR YOU, BECAUSE OMGGG?? A FAMILIAR FACE??

You had even hugged her when you saw her because you were so happy to see someone you knew and actually got along with.

And all three of them were just... nice. Chill. No dumb comments, no weird mixed signals, no constant mood swings. You actually felt comfortable for once.

And because the joint was wearing off and you were starting to feel a little tired, you’d ended up taking a few sips of Rafe’s fresh Jäger-Bull drink he had left behind to get your energy back.

That crazy-ass combo did make your heart race a little faster, and yeah, it freaked you out a bit because like, hehehehe what the fuck??? Butttt you’d already had a beer and half your current drink plus like three cups from beer pong, and so far you were totally fine HIHIHIHIHII.

Maybe even too fine, because playing with Rob was... NDNXDXNDUSXNK, he looked good, OKAY? Like objectively handsome (okay, scratch that—he was exactly your type), and also sweet and respectful, BUT still kinda flirty???

BEST. OF. BOTH. WORLDS.

And it seemed like he was genuinely interested in you. He asked where you were from, how you knew Topper, what you did besides going to parties, and even asked what perfume you were wearing because “damn, it smells really good” (THAT BASTARD WAS SMOOTH).

So yeah. To sum it up: you were having a great time, felt extremely at ease, and that was a very dangerous combination—because the way Rob so obviously showed he liked you, yeah, that gave you a big confidence boost.

So while you were having the time of your life, you just kind of... tuned everything else out. The loud music and chatter, the crowd, the screaming girls getting pushed into the pool by drunk dudes.

You even tuned out your own thoughts, just let yourself enjoy the moment, completely forgetting all the anxiety you’d felt before this party.

Including Rafe.

Who had totally disappeared ever since he left with asshole Chris Reid to go do god-knows-what sketchy shit. Like, why should you care that he’d ditched you? That he basically traded your presence for a line of coke? Or that he had acted genuinely offended when Chris had assumed you were his girlfriend? Like OKAY I GET IT.

No really—you were fine. Everything was great—

“Hey, watch out.” Rob reached out and gently pulled you toward him, saving you from a soccer ball that would’ve smacked right into your hip (“sorry” came the shout from some drunk guy in the distance).

You looked up at Rob, startled by the close proximity, your cheeks heating up, the warmth of his hands still on your shoulders, his smile, and girl, DO NOT FALL FOR THIS RANDOM GUY RIGHT NOW.

But it was getting really hard not to, because in the following, you two were seriously a great team—and more importantly, he wasn’t sending you any confusing signals like some people.

“Nice game,” he said after sinking the final shot that won you the round.

You just chuckled, your whole body buzzing warm. “You landed most of the shots though.”

Rob smirked, eyes twinkling a little as he looked at you. “Sorry—if I’d been more focused, it would’ve been even more.”

BOIIIIII.

“Nice win,” Topper said as he walked over to your side with Molly. “Up for another round?”

Honestly, you really had to pee… and all that standing around was starting to get exhausting, especially now that the backyard had gotten way more crowded in the last half hour.

Molly seemed to feel the same. “Maybe later, I need a quick breather first.”

A few seconds later, you both found yourselves giggling in the downstairs bathroom.

You were peeing while Molly sat on the edge of the bathtub—your heart pounding, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. Your vision was… well, not trashed exactly, but yeah, you were definitely feeling it.

Shit, but you felt good. Free, open, not like some socially awkward fish anymore.

You and Molly talked about this and that, giggling like two silly, smitten girls over Rob and sharing your mutual suffering about the hell that was senior year.

You felt genuinely happy—thankful for Topper and Molly (and obviously Rob, hihihii), even for Kelce, who’d welcomed you so warmly and actually seemed kinda caring after your coughing fit because of the joint.

You and Molly were about to head back to Topper and Rob when your phone buzzed.

Probably Cara.

“Go ahead, I’ll join you in a minute,” you said to Molly with a smile, then stumbled with a surprised chuckle to the edge of the tub, sitting down, ignoring the sudden funny feeling in your stomach.

Ready to shoot Cara a quick update, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Rafe’s name on your screen. It started beating just a little bit faster as you texted him back.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Rafe shoved his phone back into the pocket of his shorts, jaw clenched, not even bothering to reply to your shitty-ass pic.

Had you really managed to catch some dude named Mickey—or Mikey, or whatever the hell that name you tried to spell was—within the thirty goddamn minutes he’d left you alone? And on top of that, gone into the bathroom with him to—

He cut the thought off with a sharp shake of his head, a frown settling in. Why the fuck did such an image flash in his head again?

Rafe gritted his teeth. He’d only left to deal with that asshole Chris and his loser friends, selling them a few grams (and also snort some lines because why not). He wouldn’t even have left you behind if he didn’t desperately need the cash to meet Barry’s deadline.

Fuck—and there it was again. Another picture, clear as day. You, in that stupidly good-looking outfit tonight, pressed against the bathroom door—

What the actual fuck.

Rafe rubbed his eyes, a heavy, sick feeling sitting in his stomach. Jesus fucking Christ, he needed another line. This shit was getting unhinged.

He lined up a clean stripe of white on the kitchen counter with his phone, ignoring the looks of some bickering bitches, and snorted it off in one go.

Rubbing his nose, he inhaled deep, the familiar kick spreading through his veins like wildfire.

Better.

But then—another image. This time from his own point of view. You in front of him, his pants around his ankles, your pretty lips on—

NO. NO, FUCK THAT. What the actual—like, actually, holy shit.

Rafe’s breathing was heavy now, his heart pounding in his ears, and his brain kept flashing images he couldn’t stop if he tried.

Frustrated and irritated, he ran a hand through his hair, pissed at himself and at the fact that he had no idea where the fuck these thoughts were coming from.

Then he spotted that fucker Reid across the room, chatting up some chick like he wasn’t a walking STD, and the memory hit him—the way that bastard had looked at you earlier when he’d walked into the kitchen. How his eyes had lingered on you. That slimy-ass grin.

The fucking fact that he’d had the balls to do it right in front of Rafe.

Shit, you weren’t Rafe’s fucking girlfriend. Fuck, no—not even close. But the idea that you could’ve been—and that Reid still had had the audacity to look at you like that—lit something vile, something filthy and twisted in Rafe’s gut.

And then it hit him harder: this whole fucking party was filled with greasy assholes like Chris Reid, looking for some poor girl to get laid.

And one of them had probably latched onto you while Rafe had been gone, maybe even fed you drinks, pretended to be all nice and charming just to pull some sleazy shit, and that made Rafe’s blood boil on a whole different level.

You weren’t some cheap party girl who let any random dickhead get handsy. Plus, the way you’d texted Rafe, made clear you weren’t exactly sober.

Fuck no. That thought alone had his jaw locking tight.

And before he even knew what he was doing, before he could stop to question the wild, confusing feeling building inside him, his feet were already moving.

He shoved past sweaty, perfumed, half-drunk bitches and pricks as he stormed out of the kitchen and into the hallway, brows furrowed, pulse hammering.

He came to a halt in front of the downstairs bathroom door, ignoring the group of girls waiting in line, and grabbed the doorknob.

His heart did something weird as it didn’t budge.

“Wait your turn, Cameron,” said some irrelevant chick who wasn’t even worth looking at.

Rafe ignored her—her, and the rising storm inside him over why the fuck he was even doing this—and knocked on the door.

Once. Twice. Four times—

The door creaked open. He lifted his chin, ready to confront the bastard inside but all the tension in his shoulders dropped the moment he saw your face.

Eyes glassy, wide with surprise, still slightly red from the joint, your skin glimmering like it had just been washed, and your lips slightly parted as you met his gaze.

In your breath, he caught Red Bull, beer, and something else.

“Did you puke?” Rafe raised his brows, trying to peer through the crack in the door to make sure—

“Yeah,” you replied with a half-tired smile and a little chuckle. “But I’m good now.”

Jesus Christ.

Rafe felt like a fucking joke. At this point, he was seriously considering if he’d done way too much earlier because why the fuck was he even here right now?

“Cameron, take your girlfriend somewhere else, some of us still gotta use the damn bathroom,” said that same dumb bitch’s voice again.

Rafe glared at her, ready to snap that you weren’t his fucking girlfriend, but before he could say anything, you just let out a chuckling “sorry” toward the bitch and softly stumbled forward.

Toward him.

Your hand, landing briefly on his chest—just enough to steady yourself—sent a sharp jolt of something through him. You gave him an awkward “sorry” and when you immediately backed away, something in Rafe wanted to pull you back but fuck that, holy shit.

And because the bitches in line were already clucking impatiently behind you, Rafe put a hand on your back and said, “Move,” guiding you through the crowded hallway.

“Where to?” you asked, almost too quietly to hear over the pounding bass.

“Kitchen,” Rafe replied dryly.

This was exactly why he didn’t want a damn girl clinging to him. No annoying girlfriend. No clingy chick of any kind.

He hadn’t come to this fucking party to play goddamn babysitter.

Honestly, he could punch himself in the face. He’d only come looking for you so that no dirty asshole had a chance to get handsy. Rafe had some decency. He wasn’t about to leave a drunk girl in the hands of some rando loser.

With a scowl, he placed his hands gently on your shoulders when some other girl almost stumbled right into you. Rafe almost opened his mouth to snap at her but clenched his jaw instead, confused as hell why he was suddenly so on edge.

Once in the less crowded kitchen, he hesitated before letting go of you.

You leaned back against the counter with a tipsy smile—but it faded the moment your eyes met his.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice was nervous, almost apologetic.

A strange pull tugged at Rafe’s chest but he shoved it aside, annoyed, and stepped next to you toward the bottles.

“Why were you alone?” he asked, pouring a shot of vodka.

“I wasn’t,” you replied. “Molly was with me before.”

Molly Crane. That was the name you’d tried to type earlier. Not some fucking Mickey.

Holy shit—was Rafe actually losing it?

He let out an irritated scoff, brows furrowed as he set the bottle down. “Such a good friend, leaving you alone to puke.”

“Funny thing coming from you,” you said with a half-laugh, and Rafe could feel your gaze on him.

He clenched his jaw, then threw back the shot, the bitter taste hitting his tongue and burning all the way down.

Meeting your eyes with a crooked grin, he said, “Yeah? The fuck’s that supposed to mean, huh? You pissed because you couldn’t be alone for thirty minutes? You do realize I’m not your fucking babysitter.”

Your expression shifted, and something about it pulled a hollow feeling straight through his chest.

“I was joking…”

Rafe gritted his teeth, overwhelmed by the mess of confusing shit swarming his head. He ran a hand down his face. He needed to chill the fuck out. Either he’d done too many lines or not enough.

You gently pushed yourself off the counter, a sad smile playing on your lips. “I think I should go find Molly. Don’t want her to worry.”

What about me?

The thought hit him like a fucking truck—crazy, embarrassing, pathetic as fuck—and yet there it was, leaving him almost sober in its wake.

Fuck.

He just didn’t get why you suddenly wanted to get away from him.

Fuck, seriously, what the fuck. Why do I even care?

“Or… did you want something?” you asked hesitantly, a flicker of vulnerability in your voice Rafe didn’t know how to process.

He shook his head, irritated, keeping his mouth shut—because clearly his brain was on some fuckery, and the last thing he needed was to start saying that shit out loud.

Your brows twitched, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. “I just thought... you texted me, asking where I was, and—”

“Ayo, Rafe! Y/N! We were just looking for you.”

Kelce’s voice boomed over the music as he barged into the kitchen with some random dude in tow—

Oh fuck no. Fucking hell no.

Not this fucking asshole.

Stupid fucking grinning Robert Lewis.

Topper’s dumbass surfer buddy who Kelce, for some unknown, brain-dead reason, seemed to worship.

Rafe already wanted to punch him. But instead, he forced a fake-ass smile as Robert came up, hand outstretched for a dap.

“Good to see you, man,” Robert said with that dumb fucking grin. “How you doing?”

Rafe just nodded, subtle shake of the head, corners of his mouth pulled down. “The usual shit.”

Robert laughed like it was the funniest fucking shit he’d heard all night, and the moment his eyes landed on you, Rafe felt a twitch in his fingers—ready to swing on this fucker.

And fucking hell, the way he looked at you. That big-ass smile. That glimmer in his eyes like you two were already familiar which was ridiculous because—

“And you, Y/N?” Robert asked, voice all warm like he gave a shit. “You doing okay? Molly told us you wanted to stay behind.”

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

Rafe thought he’d misheard—his ears were already ringing from the coke and the insanely loud music (fucking Carnival playing for the fourth time tonight), so maybe it was just his brain tripping again.

But the way you looked up at that grinning asshole, eyes all dreamy and soft, a smile so sweet Rafe didn’t even know you had it in you—it felt like someone smashed a baseball bat right into his skull.

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m all good,” you said, a soft chuckle slipping from your lips. “My stomach just freaked out a bit after the beer pong drinks, but I’m good now.”

Funny. Yeah, real fucking funny. You and that douchebag playing beer pong together? Funniest shit Rafe had ever heard.

Kelce laughed. “Ahhh, shit, classic mistake. Weed and alcohol are not the best of friends.”

“My fault,” Robert said with that fake-ass innocent smile. “Should’ve made sure you weren’t drinking all of Topper’s hits.”

Rafe tensed instantly, alarm bells blaring and he didn’t even know why—no, actually, he did know. This fucker had been trying to smooth-talk you while Rafe had been gone, get you drunk, play his little fake-charm game, and wrap you around his goddamn finger.

God, Rafe would love to slam his fist into that smug face right about now. And fucking Topper too, for setting up this whole bullshit game in the first place.

And you? Why the fuck were you falling for this crap? Looking at that loser you’d known for maybe a couple of hours like he was the only guy in the room?

Rafe had spent an entire fucking week with you—every day—for that damn school project, trying to make you feel at ease, and you still hadn’t warmed up to him. But this greasy little fucker? All it took was one night?

Fucking ridiculous.

He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand. Couldn’t make sense of this fucked-up chaos inside him. The rage. The insane thoughts. The way he suddenly wanted—needed—you to look at him the way you just looked at that piece of shit.

FUCK.

What the fuck had Barry mixed into that coke?

And what. the. fuck. was going on with the guys at this damn party that they were looking at you like Rafe wasn’t standing right the fuck there?

Like seriously?!

Rafe never brought girls to parties. And the one fucking time he did—and yeah, okay, it was chill and casual and nothing serious—BUT NONE OF THESE FUCKING IDIOTS KNEW THAT.

NO ONE KNEW YOU WEREN’T RAFE’S HOOKUP OR DATE OR GIRL—AND STILL, THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO ACT LIKE THAT?

Nah. FUCK THAT.

Rafe wasn’t some fucking merchant bringing girls around to be snatched up by whatever fucker got his hands on you first.

At this point, they were asking to get decked.

And Rafe? He’d seen enough. Let enough of this bullshit slide.

Because you didn’t just show up here. You were brought. Invited.

By him.

And if nobody seemed to fucking get that, then it was about damn time he’d change that.

So when Kelce announced a game of Truth or Dare starting in the living room, Rafe didn’t back out despite how much he hated that childish-ass game with every fiber of his being.

Because if this meant he could wipe the stupid fucking smile off Robert Lewis’ face, and shut down every other asshole at this party who thought tonight was their chance to piss him off—he’d gladly take part.

“Aight, party people, get your asses into the living room then”, Kelce said, clasping his hands.

Rafe glanced at you for a second, watching the way you looked at douchebag Robert… the way that fucker placed his hand on your back, leading you out of the kitchen toward the game.

Yeah. That guy? Rafe was fucking him over tonight.

Because he could just about tolerate that loser hanging around Kelce and Topper—Topper had been pissing him off lately anyway, and Kelce was like some dumb puppy always chasing new people—but you?

No fucking way was Rafe letting that wannabe surfer douche try anything with the girl he had brought.

Didn’t matter that you weren’t his girl or whatever.

No, it was about the fucking principle. About the fact that this prick even thought he could lean that far into Rafe’s zone.

And somehow, the thought of how you’d cling to him after he’d chased off Fuckhead Lewis—Rafe being the one you’d gaze at so smiley and sweet—left him with a buzzing feeling in his chest that hit almost as good as the high from a line.

"You coming, dude?" Kelce asked, putting a hand on Rafe's shoulder, a drunk grin on his stupid face.

Funny enough, Rafe didn't push him away because he realized that idiot might just be the key to fucking Lewis over.

So all he said in response was, "Yeah, yeah, sure". A crooked smile appeared on his lips. "Just wanna know if you'd be down to score some extra baggie."

Kelce's shitty grin was answer enough.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

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banzonism · 6 months ago

Text

YOU BELONG WITH ME

one-shot

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: romance, drama, comedy, angst, fluff, slow burn, love pining

tags: football player! jk, photographer! jk, student leader! reader, high school au, chilhood friend, boy next door jk, bff drama, friends to lovers, yeontan cameo

synopsis: Beneath the light banter and playful teasing of childhood friends lies a deep well of unspoken feelings, simmering just out of reach. Quick glances shared during laughter hold more meaning than anyone dares to acknowledge. But everything shifts dramatically when a heartfelt letter reveals unexpected truths, shattering the carefully constructed lives they have built. Will they find their way back to each other and uncover the truth of their feelings? In the end, they must find out if they really belong with each other.

words count: 10k

notes: hello everyone! here's another one-shot from me, and let me tell you i've been thinking about this fic a lot lot lot bc i'm a sucker of this kind of romance, sorry.... inspired by TS "you belong with me” mv but with a twist! if you’re a swiftie, you’ll probably notice quite a few nods to the iconic mv—incorporated some of its most memorable scenes into the story. hope you enjoy this fun, nostalgic ride <3

p.s. dont come for my girl Sana—she might be a little extra in the beginning scenes, but trust me she’s worth it! & threw a Yeontan moment to honor him... fly high, little one 🕊

The gym buzzed with energy as students rushed around, their laughter and conversations creating a lively atmosphere for the school’s event preparations. Colorful decorations filled the room, and tables were piled high with craft supplies. As the student council leader, you moved through the crowd with a clipboard, checking off tasks and motivating your excited team.

“Hey, Miss Y/N!” called out a freshman, her face showing worry. “Can you help us with this banner? It’s too high!”

“Got it!” you answered with determination, quickly heading to where a sturdy ladder was leaning against the wall. You set it up under the spot where the banner needed to go and felt a surge of confidence as you grabbed the banner in one hand and some tape in the other.

Climbing the ladder, each step brought you closer to the colorful paper reaching up to the ceiling. But as you neared the top, your foot slipped a little on the rung. In that quick moment, everything seemed to slow down. “Oh no—” you gasped, trying hard to steady yourself. Before you knew it, you slipped down the ladder and landed with a thud on the polished gym floor. The loud noise echoed in the sudden silence that followed.

Laughter erupted around you, filling the air with amusement. At the center of it all was Sana , the cheerleading captain and your former bestfriend. Her laughter rang out, almost mocking, as she stood with her friends, arms crossed and a smug smirk on her face, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Be careful, Y/N," she mocked, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Being busy might make you grow old faster." Her laughter felt sharp, and it stung even more when you noticed she didn’t offer to help you up.

Heat flooded your cheeks, mixing embarrassment with frustration, but you fought to keep it under control. Taking a deep breath, you stood up and brushed off your shirt, straightening your back. “Alright, everyone, let’s get back to work! We have an event to make special!” you said, putting on a genuine smile that energized the team.

The room buzzed with renewed focus as your enthusiasm spread, pulling everyone back into the excitement of preparing for the event. Sana rolled her eyes and turned away with her group, their giggles trailing behind, but you didn’t let their laughter get you down.

“Y/N, are you okay?” a familiar voice called through the noise. You turned to see Kim Namjoon, the student council secretary and the head editor of the school paper, approaching with a concerned look on his face, a notebook tucked under one arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a grin. “Just stumbled a bit, nothing to worry about.”

“Impressive,” he said, chuckling. “Not many can fall like that and still walk away with confidence.”

"You think?" you grin. "Add it to the school paper column. Speaking of which, I need your help editing later." Namjoon smiles, his warmth reassuring.

While being the heaď of the student council was a big responsibility, you believed that your writing skills were really what helped you lead. Every meeting, every plan for events, and every motivational speech was shaped by your years of writing experience. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was a vital tool that helped define your leadership style.

As the day went on, you guided the team with determination, turning your fall into a funny story rather than a moment of embarrassment. With the gym transforming into a lively celebration of school spirit, you felt a swell of pride in both the team and yourself for staying true to what really mattered.

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

The following day was the big foundation day event, and it turned out to be a tremendous success. As the sun set, you breathed a sigh of relief, feeling proud of how everything had gone. You had led your team to pull off one of the year's most important events, and now you could finally focus on your studies again, catch up on assignments, and enjoy some much-needed relaxation.

But then, things took an unexpected turn.

That evening, the school's football team had a crucial game against a rival school, which brought a huge crowd to the stadium. At first, you had no plans to go; you were determined to finish your essays and study for your upcoming exams. Just as you were about to dive into your books, you received a call from Namjoon.

“Hey Y/N, I know this is really last minute, but can you come by the office?” he asked, sounding urgent.

Curious and a bit worried, you made your way to the editorial office. Being part of the school publication was something you loved, but tonight, you hoped it wouldn’t mean too much extra work.

When you arrived, Namjoon greeted you with a stressed look. “Y/N, I really need your help. You're one of our best writers, and we’re in a tight spot.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s happened?”

“Yunjin, who was supposed to write about tonight’s football game, is sick and can’t make it,” Namjoon explained, urgency in his voice. “We need someone to fill in and write the article for tomorrow’s paper. I know it’s short notice, but you’re our best option. Can you take it on?”

You paused, thinking about all the homework and studying waiting for you at home. “Namjoon, I’m not sure I can do this. Writing sports articles isn’t really my thing.”

Namjoon shot you a reassuring smile. “You just have to write down what happens during the game and maybe ask a few of our players about it afterward. You’re a fantastic writer, Y/N. I know you can handle this.”

Feeling torn, you considered the school, the players who had worked so hard for this moment, and how important it was to share their story with everyone.

“Okay, Joon,” you said with newfound determination. “I’ll do it.”

Namjoon visibly relaxed and handed you a notebook and a press pass. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. I know you’ve already put in a lot of effort for the school. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You smirked and raised an eyebrow. “You better. I’m counting on you for lunch for a week.”

Namjoon laughed. “Deal. Now go make it a great article. Good luck!”

With that, you headed towards the stadium, notebook in hand, ready to take on another challenge.

Later, under the bright lights of the stadium, you were caught up in the exciting atmosphere of the game. The crowd's cheers surrounded you as you walked along the sidelines, your press pass hanging around your neck. The lights created dramatic shadows over the players as they warmed up, and you could feel their energy in the air. You stopped for a moment, heart racing, to write down your initial thoughts about the buzz surrounding the upcoming match and the rival team's arrival.

Then, you saw him.

The golden boy everyone had been talking about. He was someone you had known since you were kids—the one who always made it difficult for you to hold his gaze for long. Memories flooded back of sunny afternoons spent playing in your backyards, the shy smiles exchanged during those brief encounters, and that unmistakable flutter in your stomach whenever he was near.

He stood in the middle of the field, naturally drawing everyone's attention, with his dark hair damp from practicing, strands sticking to his forehead. His jersey fit him perfectly, showcasing his athletic build. You could see the fire in his eyes from where you stood—a mix of determination and passion that made him even more captivating.

When the game ended with an exciting win for your school, the stadium roared with cheers. A wave of pride swelled inside you—not just for the team's victory but for the chance to capture this moment through your writing.

As you lingered on the sidelines, you felt torn about whether to approach him. You had enough material for your article, but a small voice inside you urged that this opportunity was too special to miss. Just as you were about to decide, a familiar voice broke into your thoughts.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turned sharply, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. There he was, striding towards you with that effortless confidence you both admired and envied. His jersey clung to him, damp with sweat, his hair tousled, and that bunny-like smile brighter than the stadium lights surrounding you.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you replied, trying to sound calm even though you felt anything but. “Congratulations on your win!”

“Thanks,” he said, tilting his head with a curious look, making you feel both exposed and energized. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Did you enjoy the game?”

“Of course! For the article tomorrow,” you replied, clutching your notebook like a lifeline. “You know, school paper stuff.”

“How did you find the game?” he asked, his tone light yet genuinely curious as if he wanted your opinion.

“That’s cool. I mean, you’re cool. I mean—you’re great,” you blurted, the words tumbling before you could stop them. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, and the soft chuckle that escaped his lips didn’t make it any easier to compose yourself.

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied, tilting his head slightly as he studied you.

Trying to regain your composure, you cleared your throat. “Could I ask you a few questions about the game?”

“Sure,” he replied effortlessly.

You began asking him the standard post-game questions, scribbling down his answers. But as he spoke, your focus wavered. His voice was smooth and warm, carrying an understated excitement that made you lose track of your notes. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes sparkled when he talked about the team’s victory, how the corner of his lips curled into a smile that made your heart skip a beat. Your attention drifted, and your writing soon became a mess of half-written sentences.

“Hey, babe,” a voice interrupted, snapping you out of your daze.

You looked up to see Sana, the head cheerleader—of course she would be here—striding over with her usual charm. Her cheer uniform fit her perfectly, highlighting her athletic build. In that moment, the butterflies in your stomach shifted to a sinking feeling.

“Oh, hey, Sana,” Jungkook greeted her, and you noticed a change in his tone.

“Great game! You were amazing out there,” Sana said before throwing her arms around him in a sudden hug. Jungkook’s body stiffened briefly, and his expression showed mild discomfort as he pulled away.

When she finally let go, Sana’s gaze shifted to you, her smile on a sharper edge. “What’s this?” she asked, nodding toward your notebook.

“It’s for the school paper,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t into sports writing, Y/N.”

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you debated whether it was worth responding. You were exhausted from the long day, and the last thing you wanted was to engage in her petty comments. But something about her smug tone lit a fire in you.

“And the last time I checked,” you shot back, your eyes lockig onto hers with a glare, “was a year ago. So, you don’t know much about what I’m doing now, Sana.”

The tension in the air thickened, but before you could say more, Jungkook stepped in, his voice calm yet firm. “Hey, what’s going on?”

You forced a polite smile, snapping your notebook shut. “Thanks, Jungkook,” you said abruptly, needing an escape. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go now.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he replied softly, his eyes lingering on you. “See you around.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a sting. Jungkook and Sana had been linked ever since she became the cheerleading captain, though rumors swirled that they weren’t officially a couple. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, but deep down, it did—just a little. This wasn’t just anyone; it was your former best friend and the boy who had unknowingly captured your heart for years.

Later that night, you sat at your desk, struggling to finish an article you had started. The soft light from Jungkook’s room peeked through your curtains, reminding you of how near yet far he felt. His smile and the sound of his voice echoed in your mind. As you lay there, sleep refused to come, and you found yourself thinking about what could have happened if you had ever had the courage to tell him your true feelings.

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

After weeks passed and final exams wrapped up, you threw yourself into your studies. It wasn’t just about making your parents proud or keeping your position as a student leader; it was about getting a scholarship to the university of your dreams, something you had worked toward for years. After weeks of sleepless nights and exhausting tests, your final stretch as a high school senior came to a close.

That afternoon, completely worn out, you headed straight to your room and collapsed onto your bed. When you woke up three hours later, it was dark outside, and your mom called you for dinner. Rubbing your eyes, you stretched and turned toward your window. That’s when you saw that your curtain was slightly open, revealing Jungkook’s room across the way.

He was there, his face faintly lit by a desk lamp, talking animatedly on the phone. Even from a distance, you could see the tension in his posture—his brows were knitted together, his jaw tense, and his hand was tugging at his hair in frustration. Concern rose in your chest. Without thinking, you grabbed a notepad and marker from your desk and quickly jotted down a message.

"Are you okay?"

You held it up to the window, feeling anxious as you waited. It took him a moment to notice you, but when he did, his expression softened a bit. He sighed and wrote back:

"Tired of drama."

Unsure of how to reply, you eventually wrote:

"Sorry."

He looked at your note, and a faint, tired smile flickered across his face. He shook his head gently, as if to say it wasn’t your fault. The simple exchange left a strange heaviness in your chest despite the silence between you. You wondered what troubles he was facing, and for a brief moment, you wished you could reach out and help him.

Jungkook then waved at you, a small gesture that felt like a goodnight. You waved back, signaling for him to get some rest. He smiled again, this time it felt more genuine, before closing his curtain. The room immediately fell silent, but thoughts of him lingered long after he disappeared from view.

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

On a laid-back Sunday afternoon, you decided to take a break from your busy life by diving into a book that had caught your interest. You found a quiet spot on a bench in the park, where the calm surroundings helped soothe your busy mind.

Out of the blue, you were startled by a loud bark. Looking up, you saw a tiny, fluffy Pomeranian running towards you. Its shiny black and brown fur sparkled in the sunlight, and its bright eyes shone with playful energy. A smile spread across your face as the little dog, looking like a cuddly stuffed animal, stopped barking and approached you cautiously.

“Hey there, little buddy,” you said softly, reaching out your hand. The dog sniffed your fingers for a moment and then nuzzled against you, clearly enjoying the attention. Feeling a rush of affection for dogs, you scratched behind its ears and laughed as it playfully licked your hand.

Just then, a voice called out from a distance, “Yeontan!” You looked up to see Jungkook jogging toward you, looking a bit rushed.

“There you are,” he said, picking up the dog and holding it in his arms. “I’m sorry if he bothered you.”

“Oh, not at all,” you replied with a smile, still petting Yeontan. “He’s so cute!”

Jungkook chuckled and scratched Yeontan behind the ear. “He’s not actually mine, though. Taehyung asked me to look after him for a while. He can be quite a handful sometimes.”

“I don’t mind at all,” you said, charmed by the little fluffball. “I love dogs. He’s just too adorable!”

“Right?” Jungkook grinned. “He can be a bit of a troublemaker, though. So, what are you doing here? Just reading?”

“Something like that,” you shrugged. “I needed a break to clear my mind. It helps.”

“That's good to hear. You deserve some time off,” Jungkook replied, his tone growing softer. “So, what’s your plan after graduation? Are you staying here for college?”

You paused, closing your book as you considered your response. “Honestly, I’m not sure. My mom and I haven’t talked much about it, but I’m applying to a few schools that are far away. What about you?”

Jungkook sighed, absentmindedly petting Yeontan. “My dad wants me to stay here and take business classes while focusing on football. He has this whole plan for me to take over his business.”

“Is that what you want?” you asked, tilting your head to study his expression.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. “I don’t want to let him down, but…”

“But what?” you prompted.

“I really loved photography and film,” he said quietly. “I told my dad I wanted to study film, but he wasn’t too excited. He thinks football is my best chance at making it to the national team, and that everything else is just a hobby.”

You frowned, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him. “That sounds rough, Jungkook. It’s great that your dad believes in you, but it’s your life. You should do what makes you happy.”

“That’s what your dad always said, right?” Jungkook remarked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I miss Uncle Seojun. He always encouraged me and was so excited about my photography projects.”

“He really was,” you replied, smiling at the memory of your father. “I remember how thrilled you were when you got that camera for your birthday. You couldn’t stop talking about it!”

He laughed softly, nostalgic. “Yeah, those were good times.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened as he looked at you, momentarily distracted by a stray hair that had fallen over your face. Without thinking, he reached out and gently tucked it behind your ear. The unexpected touch made your heart skip a beat.

“There,” he said softly, almost whispering as if the moment needed a certain quiet. “Now I can see you properly.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you scrambled to find words, but your mind went blank. His hand lingered for a brief moment before he pulled away, and the faint smile he gave you sent your heart racing.

In that moment, everything else faded away—the sounds of the park and even Yeontan’s soft breathing seemed to disappear. You wondered if he could hear how loudly your heart was beating.

You both sat there quietly for a while, with Yeontan curled up between you. It felt like a snapshot of the past, a brief reminder of simpler times before life got more complicated.

But before long, the moment was disrupted. A red car pulled up nearby, and you recognized the girl stepping out—Sana. Of course, it had to be her. With her stylish cap and polished look, she approached like she owned the place.

“Hey, Jungkook! What’s taking you so long to grab Yeontan?” she called out, shattering the peaceful moment you had shared with Jungkook.

Jungkook stood up, brushing off his jeans as if to shake off the experience you’d just had. “I’ve got to go now,” he said, a hint of regret in his voice. “It was really nice talking to you again.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the whirlwind of feelings inside you. “Time to go now, buddy,” you said softly to Yeontan, giving the little dog one last affectionate pat.

Jungkook sank back onto the bench, his smile brightening the moment as he gently took Yeontan’s paw and waved it toward you. “Bye, Yeontan,” you said, unable to suppress the flicker of a smile that danced on your lips despite the weight in your chest.

When Jungkook got on the passenger seat, Sana suddenly whispered to Jungkook, making them like they are kissing on your view, which made Jungkook laugh. You quickly dropped your gaze back to your book, pretending not to notice, acting as if it didn’t bother you. But it did. It always did.

The car pulled away, taking them with it, leaving you alone once again with only your book and the lingering ache in your chest.

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

The office was filled with a low hum of activity, with the sounds of papers being shuffled and keyboards tapping away. You were sitting at your usual desk, surrounded by notes, layout plans, and playlists for the upcoming graduation celebration. It was your last year of school, and as the leader of the organizing committee, you were determined to make the event truly special.

“Hey, Y/N, have you had lunch yet?” a familiar voice cut through your concentration.

Looking up, you saw Namjoon standing there with a warm smile, holding a neatly packed lunchbox.

“I’ll eat later. I was thinking of heading to the cafeteria,” you replied, forcing a tired smile.

“No need for that,” he said, placing the box down in front of you. “I brought you lunch. You’ve been working yourself to the bone lately.”

“Thanks, that really means a lot,” you said, genuinely appreciative.

“Not a problem. You deserve it,” he replied, pulling up a chair to sit next to you. “By the way, have you heard anything about your application to your dream school?”

You leaned back in your chair with a sigh. “No news yet. I’m just waiting and hoping for that scholarship. It all depends on this.”

Namjoon nodded, his expression confident. “You’ll get it. I believe in you.”

“I hope you’re right,” you said quietly, feeling the pressure weighing on you.

“It’s you, Y/N. You’ve been juggling so much—school, committee duties, everything. If anyone can handle it, it’s you,” he said earnestly, and his encouragement brought a small smile to your face.

You talked about school and Namjoon’s plans for college, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. For a moment, the stress you were feeling seemed to lift.

“So… about prom?” he asked casually, tilting his head. “Are you going? Has anyone asked you to go with them?”

You hesitated, playing with your pen. “Not yet. I’m not sure I’ll even go.”

“Why not?” he inquired.

“I’ve been so busy, and I really need to focus on studying for the scholarship. That’s what’s most important for me right now,” you explained, looking away.

Namjoon frowned a little but nodded in understanding. “I get it. But you know… you’ve worked really hard. Maybe you deserve one night to just have fun. Prom is an important event, especially for someone like you who’s given so much to this school. Just think about it, okay?”

You smiled softly, touched by his concern. “Thanks, Namjoon. I’ll think about it.”

He stood up and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Good. Now eat your lunch. You need the energy for everything you’re handling.”

As he walked away, you looked down at the lunchbox and smiled to yourself. Namjoon always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t realize it yourself.

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

Weeks passed, and the gentle light of your desk lamp lit up the messy spread of notes and open textbooks in front of you. You had been studying for hours, going over every possible topic for the entrance exam—a big test that could determine whether you got into your dream school. The clock struck midnight, but you were so focused that you barely noticed the time.

Even so, thoughts of prom kept sneaking into your mind. It wasn’t just that your friend Namjoon had encouraged you to go; it was the fact that prom, the highlight of your senior year, was happening on the same day as your exam. The test was in the morning, and there would be time to get ready afterward, but you wondered if it was worth the rush. Should you focus on your future or let yourself enjoy one night of celebration after all your hard work?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a door open from the other side. You saw Jungkook walked into his room, his hair slightly damp, probably from football practice, and his gym bag hanging over his shoulder. He looked a mix of tired and effortlessly cool.

You quickly turned your attention back to your notes, trying not to seem obvious, but you could sense that he was watching you. When you glanced up again, you noticed him grab a notepad and a marker from his desk. He wrote something down and held it up to his window.

“Are you going to prom tomorrow?”

You froze for a moment, caught off guard by his direct question. Slowly, you grabbed your notepad and wrote back:

“No, studying.”

He read your response and his expression changed—was that disappointment? He sighed and quickly wrote another note, a small smile appearing on his face as he held it up:

“Wish you were"

Your heart skipped a beat. The simplicity of his words affected you more than you anticipated. You smiled back, feeling a mix of flattery and frustration. Prom had only been a distant thought until now, but Jungkook’s quiet hope made you reconsider.

You stood up and waved goodbye, signaling that you were heading downstairs for dinner. Your mom greeted you warmly and asked how your studying was going. You nodded, trying to focus on the meal in front of you, but your mind was elsewhere. Between the entrance exam, the upcoming prom, and Jungkook’s note, you felt like you were at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take.

That morning, your mom took you to the university for an important exam. The car ride felt both long and too short at the same time, with the scenery rushing by as your nerves tightened. This was the moment you had been working towards after many sleepless nights and self-imposed pressure. There was no turning back now.

“I know you’re feeling anxious, sweetheart,” your mom said gently. “But no matter what happens, I’m proud of you. And your dad? He would be so happy.”

You nodded, trying to push down the lump in your throat. Her comforting words eased your anxiety, even as your mind raced with worries about what could go wrong.

When you entered the exam hall, the quietness was almost overwhelming. Other students, just as nervous as you, bent over their papers. Once the exam started, it was just you, the questions in front of you, and your pen. You poured all your effort into each answer, determined to do your best.

As you walked out of the hall afterwards, doubt began to creep in. Did I do enough? you wondered. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself, “I’ve done my best. Now it’s in the hands of fate.”

Back home after lunch, you tried to distract yourself from the exam, but the thoughts kept returning. It wasn’t until exactly 1:00 PM, hours later, that your phone buzzed with a notification. An email awaited you.

Your heart raced as you opened it, and the words “Admission Results” jumped out at you. As you read through the letter, one word stood out: Congratulations.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, and then exclaimed more loudly, “I passed!”

Your mom rushed in, startled by your shout. When she saw the email on your screen, her face lit up with joy. You both started jumping around the room, laughing and crying together.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, wrapping you in a warm hug. “Your dad would be so proud too. I just know it.”

Later, in your room, you began to imagine the life ahead of you at your dream school. New friends, exciting opportunities, and a fresh place to learn and grow. The possibilities felt endless, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly excited about the future.

Your daydream was interrupted by a loud knock on your door. Startled, you turned to see someone you didn’t expect: Sana.

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

She stood in the doorway, exuding her usual confidence, but her face was hard to read. "We need to talk," she said, crossing her arms.

The happiness from your recent achievement quickly faded as you wondered what she wanted. You stood frozen at your door, staring at Sana, completely shocked by her unexpected visit. It felt like ages since she’d last been in your house, let alone your room.

“What are you doing here?” you finally managed to ask, still trying to process her sudden appearance.

Instead of giving a straight answer, she crossed her arms and shot you an intense glare, her voice trembling with emotion. “How could you just leave me in this town? I thought we were going to college together!”

Her outburst hit you hard. “People change, Sana. Plans change. Everything changes,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady even as your heart raced.

“You didn’t even tell me?” she said, her eyes shimmering with tears that threatened to overflow.

You let out a heavy breath, feeling the weight of this tense moment. “How was I supposed to? We weren't really on good terms.”

Without another word, she walked past you, frustration clear in her body language, and sat down on the edge of your bed. “So what? Just because we weren’t talking doesn’t mean you could just vanish on me. Even if we were both acting foolish, you could’ve at least figured out a way to let me know.”

You followed her, feeling unsure whether to comfort her or give her some space. “How did you even find out I was going to another school? I’m not even sure I could pass the entrance exam.”

Sana wiped her eyes, and her frustration melted into vulnerability. “I overheard your mom mentioning it…and Jungkook told me too. And you think so little of yourself. Do you hate me that much?”

Her words cut deep. “I don’t hate you, Sana,” you replied softly, feeling your heart ache with her pain. “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Y/N,” she responded, her voice shaking. “I know I haven't treated you well this year. I—” Her voice broke as she buried her face in her hands, regret washing over her like a tidal wave.

You paused for a moment but then sat down next to her. “I was going to send you a letter,” you admitted. “To explain everything before graduation.”

“A letter?” she repeated, her eyes widening with curiosity. “Let me see it!”

With a heavy heart, you opened your cabinet and took out a box filled with letters you had written to people who had meant a lot to you. With shaky hands, you handed one to her.

As she started to read the letter, you noticed her expression change. Tears filled her eyes as she processed the words you had written from deep within your heart. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt this way. I’m so sorry for making you feel alone. If I could go back in time... I would give up cheerleading if it meant keeping you in my life.”

“Please don’t say that,” you replied quickly, your voice filled with urgency. “Cheerleading was your dream. I regret not being more supportive. I should have been there for you.”

Sana shook her head, a realization dawning upon her. “And I should have been there for you, too. I had no idea what you were going through with your dad’s illness. I thought you were pushing me away, but really, I just wasn’t paying attention.”

The two of you sat together, unpacking the hurt and misunderstandings that had built up over the past year. You shared how your father's health struggles had taken over your life, creating a distance you didn’t know how to overcome. Sana opened up about feeling lost when you stopped responding to her messages, believing you no longer cared about her.

“Remember that time we were supposed to hang out? I saw you hugging Jungkook, and I… I thought maybe you didn’t need me anymore,” you reminded her, the memory still vivid.

Sana’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jungkook? Oh my God, Y/N, he was just comforting me! I was upset about my parents fighting, that’s all!”

As the ridiculousness of it all hit both of you, laughter erupted, slowly easing the tension that had lingered for so long.

“And then,” you added, “I got a call from the hospital. My dad was in surgery, and I couldn’t stay.”

Sana’s expression softened, guilt showing on her face. “I thought you ditched me. I waited for you until I couldn’t anymore.”

When you finally returned home after your dad’s funeral, you had wanted to explain everything, but seeing Sana laughing with her new cheerleading friends had hurt you deeply. “I thought you’d moved on,” you admitted, trying to hold back the pain you still felt.

Sana groaned and covered her face, genuine sorrow washing over her. “We were so foolish.”

You nodded, a smile starting to emerge despite everything. “Yeah, we were.”

As the laughter faded, the weight of the past year began to lift, replaced by a sense of ease that had been absent for so long. Hours passed as you both reminisced, catching up on everything you had missed in each other’s lives. When you looked at the clock, you were surprised to see it was already 4 PM.

“Wow,” Sana said, leaning back with a playful sigh. “We just spent hours untangling a whole year’s worth of misunderstandings. Classic us.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. “Classic us! So, what’s next? How are things going with you and Jungkook?”

Sana's face shifted to one of mock shock. “Me and Jungkook? Oh, no! I think you mean me and his best friend.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, Kim Taehyung? Jungkook’s best friend?”

A sheepish smile appeared on Sana’s face. “Yep! Don't act so surprised. I was always around Jungkook because Taehyung and I... well, there’s definitely more happening there than with Jungkook.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Really? This whole time I thought—”

“Thought what? That Jungkook and I were secretly in love?” Sana laughed dramatically. “Ew, no! He’s like a brother to me. Gross.”

You felt a wave of relief, though a hint of irritation bubbled up too. “Well, how was I supposed to know? You two always hung out, and there was that time you called him ‘babe’ during the football game!”

Sana grinned mischievously. “Oh, that? Totally just messing with you. I wanted to see if you get jealous.”

“Jealous?” you repeated, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s obvious. I have known you since we were little, and you have liked Jungkook since middle school, right?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “You’re the worst.”

“And you’re just in denial about it. It’s painful to watch,” she teased.

Before you could respond, Sana leaned in closer and said, “But honestly, your face every time I was with him? Not subtle at all.”

“Well, excuse me for being human,” you muttered, glaring at her.

Sana just smirked. “Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Jungkook, but there’s definitely something between him and you.”

Your heart raced at her words, but you quickly shook your head. “You’re imagining things.”

Sana rolled her eyes. “Right. I’m the one imagining this. Not the girl who’s been crushing on Jungkook for years.”

“Can we talk about something else, please?” you begged.

“Nope! You can’t get out of this. People always thought we were a couple, but it’s silly because there’s nothing there. The only person I’m into is Taehyung.”

You blinked, trying to grasp all the new information. “So... you and Taehyung?”

“Yep!” she said, grinning. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure Jungkook knows you’re interested. Not that he doesn’t already.”

“Sana!” you shouted, throwing a pillow at her.

You both burst into laughter, the earlier tension completely gone. For the first time in ages, things felt normal between you and Sana, just like they used to be.

Suddenly, Sana spoke up enthusiastically, crossing her arms like it was settled. “You need to go to this prom!”

You sighed, leaning back against your bed. “No way. I’m not ready for this. I don’t have a dress, I didn’t make plans, and prom starts at 6 PM. Do you even know what time it is?”

Sana rolled her eyes dramatically. “Seriously, Y/N? You know they never start right at 6.”

That made you laugh. “Okay, true.”

“But I still don’t have a dress!” you protested, looking down at your jeans and oversized hoodie. “Even if I did, it's too late to get ready now.”

Sana grinned mischievously and dashed out the door. “Don’t worry! We’re the same size, remember? I’ll grab a dress from my place and be back in no time. Bye!”

Before you could argue, she was gone, leaving you surprised and somewhat amused.

As you leaned back, you reflected on how just hours ago, you wouldn’t have imagined reconnecting with Sana and laughing like old times. Life can be full of surprises.

Moments later, Sana burst through your door, a garment bag draped over her arm, grinning widely. You perked up, but then noticed what she held—a white sparkly long gown.

“Wait a second,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Where’s the other dress? I thought we were going together!”

Sana winced, her smile faltering. “About that... I actually have plans tonight. With Taehyung.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re skipping prom for a guy?”

She raised her hands in mock defense, laughing. “I’m sorry! I can’t help it; I’m just a flawed human!”

You couldn’t help but laugh along, shaking your head at her antics. “Fine, but you owe me—big time.”

Sana smirked and shoved the garment bag into your arms. “Deal! Now go take a shower. We have a lot to do to make you look stunning.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the bag and headed for the bathroom. “You better not do anything weird while I’m gone.”

“Me? Weird? Never!” Sana feigned innocence.

But as soon as you closed the bathroom door, you could hear her giggling outside.

Curiosity got the better of her. Her eyes landed on a small stack of letters sitting on your desk, and one in particular caught her attention. It had Jungkook’s name written on the envelope.

She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed it. “Curiosity kills the cat, but satisfaction brings it back,” she muttered as she opened the letter.

As she read, a sly smile spread across her face. “Oh, this is perfect.” With a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, she tucked the letter into her bag, already planning how to make her night—and yours—unforgettable.

When you returned from your shower, wrapped in a towel and ready to get started, Sana was all business. “Alright, sit down. Let’s work some magic.”

The next hour was a flurry of hairspray, brushes, and accessories as Sana worked diligently, turning you into someone who looked ready for a fairytale. By the time she was done, you hardly recognized yourself in the mirror.

“Oh my god,” Sana exclaimed, stepping back to admire her work. “You’re gorgeous! I’m so proud to call you my friend.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm. “Stop it, Sana. You’re just flattering me.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. You look amazing.”

Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door. Your mom peeked in, her eyes going wide in surprise.

“Wow,” she said, placing a hand on her chest. “You’re... stunning, my darling.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you replied, trying to hide your blush.

“I thought you weren’t going,” she added, tilting her head in confusion.

“Change of plans,” you said casually.

Your mom turned to Sana. “What about you? Aren’t you going out?”

Sana grinned, ready with her excuse. “I have something important to do tonight.”

You smirked, catching onto the little fib. “Yeah, important,” you teased quietly, getting a playful shove from Sana in return.

As your mom stepped out, Sana handed you your sandals, the final touch, and gave you an encouraging smile. “Alright, Cinderella, it’s time for the ball. It’s almost 7 PM!”

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

Jungkook tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited at a red light. The lights from the cars in front of him blurred as his thoughts drifted back to a note he had received from you the night before. It simply said, “No, studying.” It was straightforward and so very “you.” You were focused on your future and not swayed by a high school dance. That dedication was just one of the many things he admired about you—your ability to stay on track and ignore distractions.

But part of him selfishly wished you would go to the dance. It wasn’t about the glitz and glamour; he just wanted to see you there, enjoying yourself for once. You had worked so hard all year, and no one deserved a moment of fun more than you. And if he was honest, he simply wanted to see you smile.

He laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head at his own thoughts. What was he imagining? He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything like that. He was just your neighbor, your friend—the guy who chatted with you casually and often caught glimpses of you through your room window when your light turned on.

A car behind him honked, snapping him back to reality. The light had changed to green. He pressed the gas and moved forward, only to hear his phone buzz in the passenger seat. He took a quick look at the screen during the next stop—texts from Sana.

Sana: Sorry, I’m gonna ditch you tonight. Sorry not sorry.

Sana: But I’ve got something to give you right now. Please meet me. Thanks.

Jungkook sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment. He wasn’t surprised that Sana had backed out. It was typical of her behavior, probably running off for some adventure with Taehyung. He didn’t really care; he didn’t have high hopes for the night anyway. The excitement of prom had faded the moment you decided not to attend.

Still, the weight of his disappointment settled deeper in his heart. For a brief moment, he had imagined that tonight could be special—his chance to finally tell you how he felt. It was his last year of high school, and if he didn’t speak up now, he might never get the chance.

With a sigh, Jungkook turned his car toward Sana’s house. His thoughts raced, torn between the reality of you not being there and the small, foolish hope that maybe—just maybe—you might change your mind and show up. Although, he thought bitterly, what were the chances you felt the same way about him?

Yet, there was a little voice in the back of his mind encouraging him to take the risk. To go for it, even if it meant putting everything on the line. Because if not tonight, then when would he ever find the courage to say anything?

It all started when you moved into the neighborhood. Jungkook had heard some talk at school about a new student joining their class, but honestly, he didn’t care much about gossip. That changed one afternoon when Jungkook found himself in a bad mood after spilling his favorite treat—banana milk. As he grumbled about how his day couldn’t get any worse, you appeared, handing him a fresh carton with a simple, “Here.”

At that moment, Jungkook thought you might be an angel. He didn’t know you well yet, but your quiet kindness left a mark on him. It wasn’t something big or flashy, just a small gesture of support that meant a lot. From then on, you became friends—not best friends like you were with Sana, but close enough for him to pick up on little things about you, like how much you loved reading, how your face lit up when you talked about your favorite subjects, and how determined you were in everything you did.

You were one of the few who encouraged him to take photos, aside from his dad. When Jungkook got a camera for his birthday, he was excited that you agreed to model for him. Over time, you became one of his favorite people to photograph. There was something special about the way you carried yourself—elegant yet strong—that made every picture meaningful.

As time went on, Jungkook noticed a change in you. He would see you walking home from school, looking down and seeming to shut the world out. It wasn’t until later that he found out the truth: your father had passed away after being ill for a long time. Jungkook wanted to reach out, but you had withdrawn from school and social life. He understood that you needed time alone to grieve. Still, he couldn’t shake the concern he felt. Things had changed between you and Sana too; you weren’t talking as much anymore, and Jungkook wondered what had shifted.

He thought about asking Sana about it, but hesitated. It didn’t feel right since she had her own things going on. For a while, Jungkook even thought Sana was interested in him because she was always around, laughing and chatting. But soon he realized her attention was focused on his best friend, Taehyung. Ever since he introduced them, Sana had been trying to get Taehyung’s attention, and Jungkook ended up as her unintentional sidekick.

That sometimes frustrated him, especially when Sana interrupted moments he wanted to share with you. Like that one day you were sitting together on a bench while he was walking Taehyung’s dog, Yeontan, who had a lot of energy. Suddenly, Yeontan broke free and darted away, and Jungkook had rushed to catch him, unexpectedly running right into you. At that moment, it felt like fate.

When senior year began, you returned as a new person—stronger and more confident, with a spark in your eyes that caught everyone’s attention. As the newly elected student leader, you tackled every challenge with determination. Jungkook watched in awe. How could someone who had faced so much come back even brighter? When he found out you were watching the school’s big football game, he played like it was the most important game of his life. Every move was made with the thought of impressing you. When the team won, he secretly hoped that you had noticed him.

But it wasn’t just your accomplishments that captivated him. It was the way you hummed while studying, the light in your eyes when discussing your future, and your unwavering determination. The more time Jungkook spent with you, the deeper his feelings grew.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore. It felt complicated and overwhelming, and he couldn’t ignore it. But along with those feelings came frustration. Jungkook often felt unworthy of you. You were amazing in every way, while he thought of himself as just Jungkook. Even when he tried to pull away from his feelings, they would rush back, like waves that wouldn’t stop.

Jungkook arrived at Sana’s house, where she greeted him with a big smile. She held up an envelope, waving it around excitedly.

“Here,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Make sure you read this at the prom. Or else.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Or else what?”

Sana leaned in, lowering her voice for dramatic effect. “Or else I’ll share that karaoke video of you singing ‘Baby Shark’ at the top of your lungs last summer.”

Jungkook groaned, grabbing the envelope from her. “Seriously? That was for my little cousin’s party!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that,” she teased, barely holding back her laughter. “Now go! And don’t mess this up.”

— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —

After your mom insisted on giving you a ride and your friend Sana decided not to come with you for some unclear reason, you figured a late arrival would be alright. As you walked into the venue, the lively music greeted you, and then you spotted Namjoon, who had a huge, welcoming smile on his face.

“Oh, wow, you actually made it!” he exclaimed, practically lifting you off the ground with his excitement.

“Someone talked me into it,” you replied, thinking about Sana’s enthusiastic pep talk earlier.

“Whoever that is, I owe them one! By the way, how did your entrance exam go?”

You smiled. “I passed!”

His face lit up even more. “Oh my god, I knew you would! I’m so proud of you!”

“Should we celebrate?”

And celebrate you did. The night turned into a blur of music, dancing, and laughter. Namjoon had a knack for making everything feel light and fun. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt like yourself again—free from stress and the heaviness of the past year.

But even while dancing and singing along to the songs, you couldn’t help but wonder about Jungkook. You remembered Sana saying he was supposed to be here—and even more confusing, that he was going to be her partner. The thought of him with her nagged at you, even though she had assured you there was nothing romantic going on.

Why are you even thinking about him? you thought, scolding yourself. Just because Sana said everything is fine doesn’t mean he feels the same way about you. Your thoughts were interrupted when Namjoon handed you a drink and pulled you back into the moment. “Come on, no sad thoughts tonight!” he said, grinning widely.

You laughed and accepted the drink, allowing yourself to be swept up in the music and the joy of the evening. Whatever happened later, you decided, could wait until tomorrow. For now, you were going to dance the night away.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was sitting away from the dance floor with his football teammates, lazily holding a drink. He wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying until Jimin leaned over with a cheeky grin.

“Hey, I just saw Y/N on the dance floor,” Jimin said casually, almost like he didn’t just drop a huge surprise.

Jungkook sat up straight, surprised. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Jimin replied, dragging out the word for more suspense. “But... she’s with Namjoon.”

The smile that had started to form on Jungkook’s face vanished. Of course you were with Namjoon. He felt a familiar wave of jealousy wash over him, even though he knew it was silly—there was nothing romantic between you two, right? Still, he couldn’t help his mind from racing.

As he glanced down at the dance floor, he spotted you right away. You were laughing, your face bright in the colorful lights as you danced with carefree joy. Despite the sting in his chest, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. You looked so happy, and that mattered to him.

“She looks amazing,” he thought, feeling a bit of a ache in his heart.

Jimin leaned closer, grinning playfully. “You’re so down bad, man. When are you going to tell her? Keeping it inside for years is painful to watch.”

“Shut up, Jimin,” Jungkook muttered, grabbing the drink from Jimin’s hand and standing up quickly.

As he walked away, something slipped from his pocket and fell to the floor.

“Uh, Jungkook? You dropped something,” Jimin called out, picking it up.

Jungkook turned around, snatching the envelope before Jimin could look closer and shoved it back into his pocket.

He made his way to the restroom, his thoughts racing. After closing the door behind him, he leaned against the sink and pulled out the envelope again.

He had completely forgotten about it in the excitement of the night. Slowly, he opened it, curiosity bubbling inside him. As he read the first few lines, his breath caught in his throat.

You excused yourself, telling Namjoon that you needed a break and wanted to find the comfort room. He nodded and kindly pointed you in the right direction. As you walked away from the crowd, the noise of the venue faded slightly, and you welcomed the moment of solitude.

But before you could push the door open, you stopped in your tracks. Jungkook was standing there, looking like he’d just seen a ghost. His eyes widened as they met yours. You gave him a small wave, unsure of what to make of his expression, but before you could say anything, he grabbed your wrist and gently pulled you outside.

“Jungkook, wait! What’s going on?” you protested, but he didn’t stop until you were far away from the venue, out of sight and earshot of the crowd.

Finally, you tugged your arm free, your breath slightly uneven. “What’s going on? Why did you bring me here?”

He looked at you, his jaw tightening like he was wrestling with something he couldn’t hold back any longer. Then he blurted out, “Do you still like me?”

You froze. “Pardon?”

“Do you have feelings for me?” His voice was more urgent this time, his eyes searching yours.

“What—Jungkook, I’m confused! What’s happening?” you stammered, until your gaze dropped to his hand. He was holding something—a letter. A very familiar letter. Your heart sank. No, this can’t be happening, you thought.

“Where did you get that?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. It was the letter. The one you wrote when you thought you had no chance with him. The one you hesitated to give because it felt too vulnerable, too raw. And now, he was holding it.

Dear Jungkook,

There’s so much I’ve been meaning to say, but I never quite found the right moment—or maybe I just didn’t have the courage. You’ve been such an important part of my life, and honestly, I can’t imagine it without you.

We’ve known each other for so long, and I still remember the little things—like the time when we were kids, and you cried because your favorite drink spilled. I gave you mine, and you smiled like the world was okay again. It might sound silly, but that moment has stayed with me.

As time has passed, I’ve come to realize that my feelings for you have deepened in ways I didn’t expect. Maybe it was during those awkward moments in middle school when you were there to help me out without making things weird. Your kindness in those moments really meant the world to me and made me like you even more.

I want to assure you that I’m not writing this to complicate our friendship because that means the world to me. I just felt it was time to be honest, especially with all the buzz around you and Sana. Regardless of what’s happening between you two, your happiness is what truly matters to me. She’s great, and you deserve nothing but the best.

Most of all, I want to thank you. Thank you for being my friend, for capturing memories through your photos when I didn’t know how to see myself, and for being there when I needed someone, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. Thank you for being a part of my dad’s life as well—I know he would be proud of the person you’re becoming.

I’m sorry for the times when I pushed you away or made it hard to talk. I know you wanted to connect, and I regret not opening up sooner. You know I’ve had my struggles, but I hope we can still be just like before.

No matter what happens, I hope you always choose what makes you happiest. You deserve that, Jungkook. I hope I’ll get to see you thriving, chasing your dreams, and smiling that smile that makes everything feel okay.

See you around.

Love,

Y/N

You should’ve known better. She always had a knack for getting involved in things she shouldn't, and this time was no different.

“Answer me,” Jungkook urged again, his voice softer now but still serious.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. “Yes, Jungkook. I did have feelings for you,” you confessed, your voice shaking. “And... I still do.”

Before you could say anything else, Jungkook stepped closer, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was gentle yet charged, filled with all the feelings he hadn’t found the words for. It felt like time stopped, the noise of everyone else fading away until there was just the two of you.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled—a real, open smile that lit up his face. “I like you too, Y/N. I’ve liked you for so long. I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”

Your breath caught, not in surprise this time, but in the overwhelming realization that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you had been waiting for.

He kissed you again, and it felt deeper and more passionate, your mouths moving together as if they’d always belonged that way. Jungkook pulled back slightly, both of you catching your breath while still holding onto each other, his eyes shining with joy. "I can't believe this is actually happening," he murmured.

You raised an eyebrow, still reeling from everything. "Neither can I. You dragged me out here, kissed me, and now what? Do we just head back to prom like nothing happened?"

As you stood there with Jungkook, still processing everything, a voice crackled over the speakers from inside the venue.

“Attention, everyone! The moment you’ve all been waiting for—the announcement of our prom king and queen!”

You turned to Jungkook, your hand still in his. “We should probably head back.”

Jungkook shook his head, grinning. “As if I’d win prom king. And there’s no way you'd win, unless you consideration of just how breathtaking you are tonight."

You tilted your head, smirking. “What if I do win prom queen? Don’t you want to be there for my big moment?”

You both laughed at the thought. But before you could say anything else, the emcee’s voice rang out.

“And this year’s prom king is… Mr. Jeon Jungkook!”

You both froze. You stared at him in disbelief. “No way.”

Jungkook blinked, confused. “Did they—? Are we hearing the same thing?”

The crowd inside erupted with cheers, and before Jungkook could react, the emcee continued, “And this year’s prom queen is none other than Ms. Y/N L/N!”

Your jaw dropped as you looked at Jungkook, astonished. “Okay, now I know this is a joke. Sana definitely set this up.”

Jungkook grabbed your hand and began leading you back toward the venue. “Well, come on, Your Majesty. Let’s go claim our crowns!”

As you entered the hall, all eyes turned to you, clapping and cheering. Jungkook’s friends were the loudest, practically bouncing with excitement.

You and Jungkook were brought up onto the stage, where the emcee placed crowns on your heads. Jungkook leaned down and whispered, “I guess we’re more popular than we thought.”

You snorted, trying not to laugh in front of everyone.

As the first notes of a slow song filled the air, the emcee gestured to the dance floor. “And now, the prom king and queen’s dance!”

Jungkook extended his hand to you, his grin widening. “Shall we, Your Highness?”

You rolled your eyes playfully but took his hand. “Let’s not trip over our crowns, Your Majesty.”

As you both danced under the sparkling lights, the crowd faded into the background, leaving just the two of you. This wasn’t just any dance—it was a moment that felt timeless, a memory forming in your heart.

You hadn’t even wanted to come tonight, yet here you were, wrapped in Jungkook’s warm embrace, feeling as if everything had led to this unexpected moment. Looking into his eyes, you understood—this wasn’t just the end of the night; it was the start of something even greater.

For the first time, it all made sense. Like two pieces of a puzzle that had been searching for each other, you fit together effortlessly, naturally, as if this was where you always belong to each other.

end.

#jungkook #jungkook and reader #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook romance #you belong with me #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook recs #jungkook fic recs #jungkook highschool au #taylor swift

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loveafterdeath-if · 1 month ago

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Yeah, similarly to what another anon said, I was kinda hoping for this to be a story about moving on after losing a lived one, specifically your partner, which I thought was a beautiful and heartbreaking concept, and while we did get that in the first few chapters, it feels like this plot twist kind of defeats the whole point.

Though, unlike the other anon, I personally will probably continue reading because I think you are an amazing writer and because I love Ekissa. The only thing that makes me not sure about continuing is that the situation is a bit awkward, makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, so I was wondering about how you were going to manage it? Because MCs moving on process obviously gets cut short, but for those of us who are gonna romance someone else, we still need to finish that process, and one important thing when moving on from an ex is time apart, especially for one you were grieving not so long ago. Otherwise old feelings, nostalgia and a lot of other emotions get mixed up and that would probably lead to confusion. (Sorry, for the long paragraph, just a bit worried about how this is gonna continue)

It's heavy spoiler territory, but I'll have to address this for anon. And it'll be a long-ass response, so be prepared,

You are right about one thing, the whole plot falls apart if El is alive, doesn't it? And like someone said in the LAD discord "why love after death then". They didn't phrase it exactly like that, but you know what I mean. The plot does start with El, but it won't end with them. Idk how to explain without giving away too much, lol

There are clues that El isn't really dead in the first chapters. The flowers MC receives, and now players know El was the one offering them. The doc and Athiel never talk about death when discussing El. MC doesn't have the right to go to the funeral or even see El's body. Even L being called by Juliet at the beginning will have its importance. They're small details, nothing too obvious, but they're here.

I'll be honest, sometimes when writing Athiel talking with MC, I struggled to remember El wasn't dead because I tried to make it look and feel like El was dead, so I drowned a bit in that department.

The characters might seem like a lot, but each has their own purpose, big or small. Some are a breath of fresh air for MC since they're not caught up in all the drama and can be objective. Others are here because they'll play an important role later. Then there are those who serve as reminders of the past with El (like the neighbors). And some are just like those background characters in anime; you don't even see their features because they're just there to serve a small purpose and keep the intrigue going. They come and go.

Sorry, I'm talking too much. So how I'll manage it, is by—and it's where it's gonna get tricky—make MC aware of it as soon as possible. There will be a reunion between MC and El. The tricky part is showing that El won't remember MC, no matter how much/if the MC tries to jog their memory.

The past El is dead; the memories won't come back, and if any fragments do resurface, El won't feel the love they once had. It's more like a ghost of memories; their body remember, but it's more mechanical than actual feelings. Like an old habit that won't go.

MC will have to grieve the old El anyway, even with them actually alive.

In El's route, it'll be all about falling in love again, getting them out of this toxic relationship with their mother, helping them learn to love themself again, and living with someone who is El but not the El you used to know. They have trauma, the confidence they once had is gone, they're insecure and they're more reserved than before.

Juliet is like, the first villain before introducing the final boss. What I wanted to do was weave two kinda plots in the same book because I didn't want to make two separate books. Love After Death is Love After Death for a reason. The plan is to make the players realize that El wasn't the focus of this book in the first place.

I hope there won't have any inconsistencies in this story, but if you find any plot holes, you're free to let me know, and I'll do my best to improve. It's only with advice and constructive critique that I can do so. I'm sure there are blind spots I won't see right away; I'm only human😭

#heavy spoilers #inbox #love after death #LAD-if

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ssentimentals · 5 months ago

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im so glad that i found your blog, was looking for some wholesome texts with reader/seungcheol and yours are so nicely written, i enjoy them so much! thank you 🫶🏻 if i could leave a request, i'd love to read something where reader is a foreigner and some miscommunication happens but solved without much drama (with help of vernon or shua maybe). thank you for your blog once again!

awwww this is so cute!! thank you so much for your kind words anonie, i'm happy you're enjoying this blog <3 and of course you can leave a request, hopefully you'll like it!

seungcheol + foreigner!reader

no matter how hard he tried, seungcheol couldn't pinpoint how something so small escalated at rapid speed and turned into a full blown argument which left you both angry and offended. he can't even remember how it started, doesn't have any idea on what even caused you two to start arguing. the whole part of 'not seeing eye to eye' is generally an unfamiliar concept for your relationships, so seungcheol really has a hard time grasping the reality of you not talking to him. it hurts too bad, hurts much stronger than he expected; cheol knows that fights happen and that it's normal, but somehow he still thought that you two will be spared from this.

'she's not picking up?' vernon asks and seungcheol shakes his head. 'and she's not at home?'

'she's at the gym.' seungcheol answers. by this point he learned your schedule by heart. 'should be back home in thirty minutes or so.'

this is ridicilous. both the argument and his moping. cheol knew very well that coming from different cultural backgrounds will echo in the relationships dynamic one way or another: different past, upbringing, culture, language have a huge impact on the personalities and views. he was ready for some tension but you both settled into this relationship so smoothly that he honestly forgot about cultural differences. he should've known that they'll pop on in some way.

'go over it with me again.' seungcheol asks, sighing. 'from the scratch and make it logical, please. start with what i did wrong then move to why it was incorrect.'

vernon, god bless him, is not tired of explaining again. he was the first person seungcheol called to when all of this happened and his younger friend agreed to help readily. in a calm tone vernon helps seungcheol understand your angle, how his words that held no malice intent managed to come out wrong. 'it's not that big of a deal though,' vernon adds, seeing how seungcheol frowned even deeper. 'i mean, it's not ideal but like, it happens, it's okay. there's no way you could've known, so it's normal.'

'even so, it sucks.' seungcheol sighs, rubbing his eyes. he understands that you two just got a bit too emotional over everything, but he still feels a huge sense of guilt on his shoulders.

'i promise you it's not that big of a deal.' vernon reassures.

seungcheol nods. even if it's not that big of a deal having you not to talk him is the worst thing that could ever happen. he gets up, dusting his jeans off. vernon eyes him carefully and then smiles. 'you good?'

'yeah. gotta go and make it right.'

seungcheol waits for around ten minutes in front of your house when he notices your lonely figure in the distance. clad in your workout gear, he can see even from there that you're sulking, walking in a slow speed. without thinking twice, seungcheol runs to meet you, his legs carrying him faster than wind to your side. when you notice him you pause at first and he almost thinks that he is fucking up here too, but then you start running towards him and oh. oh.

'baby,' seungcheol breathes out, catching you when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his hips. with strong hands he stabilizes you, holding you securely close to his chest. 'baby, my baby.'

'cheollie,' you mutter, hugging him tight. 'i'm so-'

'no, shh,' seungcheol interrupts. 'it's me who's sorry, okay? i am sorry, i didn't know. i promise i didn't know-'

'i know!' you lean back and hit him lightly at the shoulder. 'let me finish! i know that you had no idea, cheol. i'm sorry for reacting the way i did.'

seungcheol breathes out in relief. he really got incredibly lucky with you, huh? 'i'd never say anything intentionally hurtful to you,' he promises sincerely, making you smile softly. 'never, baby. hurting you will hurt me more.'

'i know,' you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. 'i know, cheol.'

'i love you,' seungcheol whispers. 'so much, babygirl. so much.'

you giggle and instead of answering, kiss him sweetly on the lips.

a/n: hope it was fine!! let me know what you think :') - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

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the-kr8tor · 8 months ago

Text

High on the Feeling

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Summary: Hobie goes to the dentist and you leave with a very giggly and sweet Hobie high on anesthesia.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw food mentions, talks of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

You've practically flipped through every single magazine in the dentist’s waiting room while you wait for Hobie. He's been complaining about the annoying ache in his molar that has hindered him from doing his responsibilities for the past few weeks. And after some convincing on your end (and a lot of smooches and coddling), he finally accepted that he needed a tooth extraction.

Now, you'd think that with his abilities that a regular ol' anesthesia wouldn't even work on him. But judging from the lack of swearing and screaming behind the tooth shaped door, you and Hobie's hypothesis were dead wrong.

You pick at your nails while you wait, and listen to the cheery pop song that's starting to make you more annoyed than the hospital-like smell of the place. The walls are painted stark white with a bunch of Ikea bought shelves perched on it where a bunch of teeth related decor sits and a handful of picture frames filled with stock photos of smiling people. You feel unnerved by the choice in decoration. Couldn't they just put infographics on how to properly brush your teeth like a normal dentist?

As the thought passes by your mind, the tooth shaped door opens and out comes Hobie stumbling over his own feet. Boots stomp loudly on the tiled floors, and you immediately run towards him to catch his flailing body.

Thankfully, you catch him in time, his head falls on your shoulder as his arms fall limp on his sides. His muffled groans reverberate, making you turn towards the rushing dentist assistant with her hands frantically pushing a wheelchair that you surmise was supposed to be Hobie's ride out.

“Is everything okay?” You ask both the nurse and Hobie, who's basically laying his entire weight on you. You feel his drool leaking onto your shirt. Or his shirt for that matter.

“I'm sorry, he just launched himself out of the wheelchair!” She sighs tiredly. “He keeps saying that London needs him. And that he's Spider-Man.”

Your eyes widen for a second before fixing your expression. “...Oh,” you say, laughing nervously. You put your arms under his armpits to hold him better. But it doesn't make it any easier to carry all 6 feet and three inches of Hobie. “How did it go? Is he alright? Except for being a drama queen.” You joke so that the woman forgets what Hobie told her.

Fortunately, she chuckles. “Yeah, the procedure went well. Although, he was a lightweight with the anesthesia. Like he was out out.”

“Really?” You furrow your brows questioningly while you hobble towards the wheelchair to sit him down or your hold on him will fail since he's tethering to the side now. “I thought you might've needed more of it than less.”

“Us too, he's just a bit loopy but he'll be okay after a few hours.” She helps you put Hobie on the chair, he falls unceremoniously on it with a clatter of metal. “I suggest you drive him home.” She winces when Hobie mumbles something incoherent with a giggle right after. He looks like a happy camper.

“Yeah, for sure.” You think he looks adorable with him looking like he's high up in cloud nine. He seems fine except for his droopy eyes and mouth, and all the drool pooling in the corner of his lips. At least he's not in pain anymore. Taking a handkerchief from your jean pocket, you gently dab at the corner of his lips, to which he hums appreciatively. “Thank you, I'll take it from here.”

She smiles as she hands you the push handles of the wheelchair over to you. “Of course—oh, I almost forgot. We kind of promised him ice cream.”

“Coconut!” Hobie suddenly yells, perking up from his seat with wide eyes. The other people waiting in the room jumps from their seats. If something bad happens to him because of the anesthesia, you're going to sue this place to the ground. You place your hand on his shoulder, which he immediately calms down and looks up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Coconut ice cream to be exact.” The nurse gives you an apologetic look.

“Good thing I know where to get some.” You smile down at Hobie, only to find him boyishly smiling up at you.

“You're pretty.” He whispers breathlessly like you've taken the air from his lungs. His hand holds the back of yours, patting it softly. He looks as handsome as ever even with a cotton ball shoved in his mouth.

“Thank you, Hobs, you're pretty too.” You feel like melting on the spot as he smiles at you. “Let's go home first and then I'll get you a whole pint.” Hopefully he'll be sober by then, although you're loving his lovestruck gaze on you.

“Home?” He asks while you push him towards the exit.

“Yeah, we live together, Hobie.” You giggle, nudging the top of his head with your chin. The bells hanging above the door jingles when an attendant opens it for you. The cooling autumn air greets you and Hobie.

“Woah.” He sighs like he couldn't believe your words. “We married?”

You pause right next to the van, heart squeezing in your chest. “Oh, Hobie.” His question is the most adorable thing you've ever heard.

“Oh no,” he utters like he hurt you. Stumbling out of the chair, he turns towards you to rub your arms just like he always does whenever you need comfort.

“Sit down, Hobie, you might fall—” His hands cradling your cheeks stop you from continuing. You see his eyes well up with tears, pretty hazel eyes glimmering under the afternoon sun. “Oh, baby, don't cry.”

“We're not married?” His lips wobbles, “that's bonkers.”

“Do you want us to be—?”

“Yes.” He says before you could finish your sentence. You hold him by his waist, helping him with his balance.

You chuckle with a soft smile, hand reaching up to rub your thumb along his chin as you peck the tip of his nose. “Tell you what, we'll talk about it in the car.”

“Really?” Hobie's eyes light up. You've only seen him like this whenever he gets home early on patrol only to see you waiting for him happily.

“Yes really. We’ll feed our guests coconut ice cream.”

He drops his head back, chuckling deeply. You raise his head back up in fear of him choking on the cotton ball. Once his head is upright on his neck once again, he grins at you. “You know ‘m Spider-Man, right, love?”

Your guffaw echoes around the parking lot, “off you go in the van, Spider-Man.” Guiding him towards the van, you turn the corner to open the passenger door for him.

Hobie takes a big whiff, and you look on with an endeared smile. “I smell pine.”

“Yeah, it's the scent thing we bought at the gas station.” You point at the swinging 2d pine tree in the rearview mirror, other hand placed on the small of his back, making sure that he doesn't fall.

“I don't fancy pine.” He pouts uncharacteristically, making you clamp down your lips to quiet your giddy laughter.

“It was the only thing available. We'll get a new one, okay?” Kissing his shoulder, ready to guide him on the seat, he leans in for a proper one but you move away before he could. He pouts again, brows fully knitted together. “Sorry, but we're in public, Hobs, and you have a bloody cotton in your mouth.” You really want to kiss him, you really do, but he probably can't tell his right from his left right now.

Hobie scrunches his nose, hand reaching up his mouth but you stop him halfway before he could yank it out. “Why?” Swatting your hand away, he playfully fights with you.

You continue to fight with his long arms, you two must've looked like a couple of kids baby fighting in the middle of the parking lot with your hands slapping his own away. “Because, you can't— Hobie! You can't take it off!”

“But I want to snog you.” If it wasn't for his haze filled eyes, you'd think that he's playing with you.

“I promise you can snog me as much as you want later when you're well aware of your surroundings—!” His hands manage to grab hold each of your wrists, braceleting his fingers around them. You fight a giggle, acting like you mean business but the amusement in your eyes says otherwise. “Get in the car please.”

“You promise later?” Hobie clicks his forehead against your own. Eyes fully closed, sighing quietly.

Rubbing his back, you let him calm down from his high for a moment. “Yes, I promise—” you hear soft snores. “Are you asleep?!”

After wrangling Hobie into the passenger seat, making sure that his seatbelt is properly settled, you finally pull out of the parking lot. Once you manage to get back on the road, you glance towards Hobie, who's looking out the window with his face squished on the glass.

“You okay over there?” Patting his leg, you get his attention, and you swear he looked like he just realized you were in the car with him when his entire expression lit up like a billboard in New York. “I wish I had a camera right now.”

“What for?” He places his head on the head rest, cheek smooshed on the leather, eyes sparkling as he looks at you softly.

“To take a picture of you.”

“I want to take a picture of you.” He says softly, “a million pictures of you.”

“Can one of those pictures be with you too?” You grin, trying to focus on the road ahead instead of looking at the adorable sight next to you.

“If you want to.” His eyes flutter close, but he's clearly fighting sleep.

“Well, I want to.” You stop the car when the light turns red, a perfect opportunity to hold his hand. “You can nap if you want. I'll wake you up when we're home.”

“I want to pick flowers for you.” You swear your heart jumps out of your chest. “But only your favourites.”

“And I'll get you coconut ice cream as much as you want.”

His eyes closes to the hum of the engine. “I'll share it with you.”

“I know you will, Hobs.” Kissing the back of his hand, you let him go just as when the light turns green.

Hobie has always been sweet on you, but this time, he's beyond just being sweet. Your teeth feel like it's rotting from how incredibly saccharine he is. And you love every second of it, but you wish that the meds wear off so you could be with the same Hobie who hogs the blanket at night and who wakes you up with his cold feet against your thigh.

—

You cuddle close to Hobie whilst you feed him spoonfuls of coconut ice cream on the sofa. The anesthesia has completely worn off, sobering up to his old self. You've given him his pain meds and you've lit up a scented candle for him to relax more. Crumpet sleeps next to him, face snuggled up against his side, unbothered by everything that's happening around her. Your head finds penchant atop his chest as his palm rests above your stomach after he casually flung your shirt over his hand to feel your warmth.

“How's the pain?” You ask, while he draws patterns over your soft skin.

“Throbbin’, a three right now. Nothin' I can't handle though.” He says while you scoop out another spoonful for him. “I think they took more than one tooth.” He says while he opens his mouth for you to feed him another dollop.

“Do you want me to check?” You tease, pointing at his bottom lip with the spoon, looking up at him with a smirk.

“Maybe later,” he squeezes your nose before letting go with a chuckle. “What else did I say other than tellin' people my secret?”

“They didn't believe you anyway, thanks to the meds.” A drop of ice cream falls from the bowl down to your hand, licking it off, you let the sweet treat melt in your mouth after giving it a taste. He looks at you like you're the dessert. Smiling, you perch both of your legs on his lap, to which he just grins wider at. “You really want to know?”

“Was I that embarrassin’?” Hobie nudges the crown of your head with his nose to tell you that it's his turn to be fed. Arm pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Blackmail worthy,” you joke, you move to take another mouthful of ice cream but he beats you to it by taking your wrist to lead the spoon towards his mouth instead. “Rude.” You giggle and he pinches your side.

“C’mon, tell me.” He wipes away a bit of cream from the corner of your lips with his thumb, which he quickly licks away, flustering you in your seat. He smirks victoriously, eyebrows raising smugly. He knows what he's done.

“Fine,” you laugh, pushing at his chest lightly. “you asked if we were married. And you cried when I said no.”

“That's… the right reaction.” He tilts his head in the same way like he's hiding a surprise for you. The last time he did this was when he got you your favourite pasta from a restaurant across the city.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you mean?” Your heart thuds loudly in your chest.

“Even my high self knows about it.” He side glances at you, while you're left pondering what he meant, he takes the bowl of ice cream from your hands. “My turn to feed you, lovie.”

“Hobie,” your eyes shimmers under the cinnamon smelling candle light, you hug his middle with a shaking arm. “What do you mean?”

He makes a face, shrugging while a bright smile spreads across his face. “Nothin', love.”

You laugh giddily, waking up Crumpet from her nap. “Okay then—wait, you're fucking with me aren't you?” Narrowing your eyes, you shut your mouth as he tries to feed you a scoop.

“Open up,” Hobie holds the spoon up for you, winking as you gaze at him softly. You still don't open your mouth, so with a glint in his eyes, he leans close to you, smashing his lips to yours, tasting the coconut on your lips while you laugh against his lips as the kiss turns from a playful one to a gentle, loving kiss.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @/mushroom-graphics-allotment

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universefcb · 4 months ago

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can you write a fic where pau cuba is sick and reader takes care of him??

SLY KITTEN, HECTOR FORT

Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

sy: He gets sick and extremely cranky. You take care of him like a giant baby!

a/n: Sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

warnings: It does not have.

It was a cold and cloudy day in Barcelona, and you just wanted to stay home, under the covers. But of course, that wasn't going to happen after you received a message from Pau:

I think I'm dying. Will you come see me?

You laughed to yourself, already imagining his drama. A sick Pau Cubarsí was synonymous with double the fuss, triple the neediness and a level of affection that only appeared in these rare graces. Sighing, you picked up your bag and headed towards his apartment.

The Giant Baby

The door was unlocked, so you walked in without knocking.

“Pau?” he called, looking around.

The room was a mess. There was a blanket on the floor, a half-empty mug of tea, and a pile of sheets next to the couch. And there, huddled under a thick building, was he.

The messy hair, red nose and half-open eyes stared at you as if you were the only hope for salvation.

“Finally…” he murmured, his voice hoarse and raspy. “I thought I would have to say my last words alone.”

You crossed your arms, holding back a laugh.

“My God, Pau, you look like you’re on the verge of death.”

“Because I am,” he grumbled, clutching the comforter to his face. “My head hurts, my throat is on fire… and I’m so cold.”

You moved, sitting next to him on the couch. Carefully, you placed the back of your hand on his forehead. It was too hot.

“You have a high fever,” he said, concerned. “Have you taken any medicine?”

He shook his head, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

“I couldn’t get up. I’m too weak… I think my time has come.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile escaped.

“My God, what a baby. How did you survive without me?”

He opened one eye.

“I don’t know. You must live here to always take care of me.”

Your heart gave a strange beat, but you ignored it.

“Be quiet and wait for me here. I’ll get the medicine.”

You went to the kitchen and made yourself some hot tea, grabbing a paracetamol tablet before heading back to the couch.

“Come on, big baby, time to drink this.”

He grimaced.

"I don't want."

"No longer…"

“It tastes bad.”

You furrowed an eyebrow.

“Would you rather continue with a fever?”

He was silent for a moment before muttering,

“Will you take care of me later?”

You laughed.

“I’m already taking care of it, right?”

“No… I want affection.”

His heart melted a little.

“If you take the medicine, I will cuddle you until you fall asleep.”

He looked at you for a few seconds, analyzing whether your proposal was serious. Then, he took the glass and the pill, taking everything quickly.

“Now you have to fulfill your promise,” he said.

You laughed softly and started to run your fingers through his hair, feeling him slowly relax. But he didn't give you time, pulling you to lie down with him on the couch.

“Your hair smells good…” he murmured after a while, hiding his face against you.

His face heated up.

“It’s just shampoo, silly.”

“No. It smells like you.”

His heart skipped another beat. Pau reported saying things like that, but sick, feverish, and clingy, he seemed to have no filter at all.

“You’re very cunning when you’re sick, you know that?”

He shifted slightly and slid even closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Only when it’s you taking care of me,” he murmured against her skin.

You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Do you want me to continue the affection?”

He let out a low sound, almost a purr, and nodded. Her fingers slid through his soft strands again, and before long, Pau's breathing became heavier.

“Stay here with me?” he asked softly.

“I'm going to stay anyway.”

He sighed contentedly and snuggled even closer to you.

#barcelonafanfic #pau cubarsí fanfic #fc barcelona #pau cubarsi #pau cubarsi x femeni!reader #hector fort x reader #pau cubarsi imagine #pau cubarsí x reader #universefcb #pablo gavi x reader #pau cubarsi x you #pau cubarsi x reader #pau cubarsí x y/n #pau cubarsí #pau cubarsí x you #pau Cubarsí x fem!girl

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formulakracing · 1 year ago

Text

"you belong here" - s.v.

pairing: gf!reader x aston martin!sebastian vettel

word count: 1.5k

warnings: (slight) age gap relationship, a little bit of cursing here and there, seb being absolutely down bad for the reader, some (slight) angst, the general public being judgmental, (slight) slut shaming, the drivers being little shits (as always), yadayadayada

a/n: i am a perfectionist when it comes to writing personalities, mannerisms, cadences of words, etc. so if i happened to not do the best job with this fic, please be patient with me!!! this is my first time writing for seb!!! i am open to feedback!!! <3

"okay, from the top. how many drivers are there?"

"twenty."

"nope!" he shakes his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, "there are nineteen drivers. sorry love, but you were incorrect."

"sebastian," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "you needed to specify if you were included. because if you weren't included, there would be nineteen other drivers. if you were, there would be twenty."

"that's why it's called a trick question," his hand squeezes yours, "your hands are clammy, by the way."

"maybe because i'm nervous?" you counter, "this is my first time tagging along to a grand prix, you know."

"i know," he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, "i'm sorry for being a little pest."

"you're not a pest," your heart swells at the gesture, "i'm just anxious to meet everyone, that's all."

"oh they'll love you," confidence oozes out of his words, "i have no doubts about that."

sebastian vettel, four time world drivers' champion, was your boyfriend of the last year or so. the two of you met online, as you had slid into his dms on instagram after a very intoxicated evening out with friends.

since you had a love for formula one since you were a teenager, you admired drivers such as lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, daniel ricciardo, and well, sebastian.

you weren't quite sure where the love for the sport came from, but you could remember the sleepless nights you spent on youtube, eagerly clicking through racing highlights through various grand prixes. the sleepovers where your friends would be doing makeovers on you or painting your nails as you chattered about all of the driver drama and lore.

so, when you learned that mr. vettel was very single, and very open to the world of dating, you decided to shoot your shot. it took about six or seven drinks, but you mustered the courage to type out those fateful words.

i heard your single. we should change that.

shockingly, you received a response not too long after sending the message.

i believe it's *you're and not your. why should i take you up on your offer? you're a very beautiful woman but i need a little more information before i take you out on a date. ;)

from that message, the two of you chatted constantly, getting to know one another in-between shifts at your job, and his free time between races, press conferences, and training sessions.

eventually, he asked for your number, requesting a facetime call. you obliged, the two of you talking for hours upon hours that night. only a week or so later, he flew you out to his place in switzerland, requesting that you spend the weekend with him.

you did, falling for him the moment you met him in person. well, not like it was difficult by any means. with his charming aura and goofy persona, you felt comfortable almost immediately, letting your walls come crashing down.

nothing was too much or too out-of-pocket. you could make all of the vulgar jokes you wished, and he would laugh right along, only escalating the joke further. you could cry on his shoulder about anything, and he would happily rub your back, wiping away the tears that fell. he would hold you every night you slept together, not letting go until you wriggled away in the mornings.

and now, here you were, hand-in-hand as you entered the paddock. your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls on lance stroll, sebastian's fellow driver and teammate.

upon seeing you, his mouth curves into a bright smile, "look who it is!"

"i know you're not that excited to see me," sebastian pouts, "or did you really miss me that much?"

lance rolls his eyes at sebastian, sticking out his right hand, "good morning! i'm lance. i'm the other aston martin driver. well, you probably already know that."

"it's nice to meet you," you suppress a giggle, "i've heard a lot about you!"

"oh have you?" lance arches a brow, turning to sebastian, "have you been talking shit?"

"always pooks," sebastian chuckles, "not really. i just happen to talk a lot about racing. i'm sure she's tired of it by now."

"oh never," you flash sebastian a radiant grin, "i never get tired of all of the racing talk. i've loved formula one since i was about thirteen or so."

"that's awesome!" lance gushes, "you have yourself a keeper then, seb."

"i know i do," you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, "should we go meet some fans? i promise they won't bite."

"fans?" you echo, a shiver running down your spine.

"well yeah," lance nods, "we have some time before we need to meet up with everyone. we usually chat with some fans, hand out some autographs. nothing too serious or glamorous."

"if you say so," you mumble, the words so quiet you were shocked you heard them.

it wasn't like you were dreading interacting with fans, it was just that you were a bit daunted by the idea.

ever since sebastian went public with you about a month ago, the reaction from the public was mixed. one half was adamant that you were too young for the driver, as there was an almost fifteen year age gap between the two of you. the plethora of negative comments that flooded the comment section of your instagram posts was almost too much to bear.

the other half, however, was very supportive, voicing that they "shipped" the two of you or that you were good for the driver. some comments even went as far to say that you were "a breath of fresh air", and that sebastian needed someone like you in his life.

yet, as the three of you stroll out of the paddock, you hoped for the latter. that the fans would be kind, welcoming you with open arms.

you could only dream, right?

"sebastian!"

"sebastian over here!"

voices flurry about, calling from all directions. everywhere all around, it was almost a sea of green, fans donning aston martin gear from head to toe. people of all ages flooded your field of vision, children hoisted on their parents shoulders to men and women in their seventies, maybe even their eighties.

"baby, can i see your purse?" his breath fans against your ear, snapping out of your trance.

"yeah," you nod, fumbling with your bag, "y-you need your sharpie, right?"

"hey," fingers find yours, intertwining them together, "it's just you and i. forget everyone else. just think about you and i."

"it's hard to-" you protest, yet you're swiftly cut off by a voice rising above the midst of the crowd.

"who invited the slut?"

sebastian's brows furrow, his eyes narrowing into slits, "what the fuck?"

more voices cut in, jeering.

"put her back in her crib! where she belongs!"

"you heard what i said! who invited that slut beside you?"

"goddamn," lance mutters under his breath, "what the fuck are they on right now?"

tears well up, threatening to spill over as you duck your head, lower lip trembling. sebastian senses your energy shift, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. he pulls you in close, pressing gentle kisses along your temple.

"come on, let's go back to the paddock. you don't deserve this."

lance flashes you a sympathetic glance before raising a hand, giving the crowd the finger, "whoever said that, this is for you!"

every aspect of the walk back is blurred as the tears fall. your lips are sealed tightly shut, suppressing the sobs rising in your chest.

you were barely here an hour and fans were already heckling you.

could you even last the weekend here?

did you even belong here?

"hey," his voice is soft, "come here."

blinking, you realize that he had taken you back to his motorhome, a private space for just the two of you. his arms are open, inviting you in. you nearly collapse into his chest, burying your head in it as he rubs your back.

"i'm so sorry."

"you don't have to be sorry," you shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat, "they're right. i don't belong here."

"stop that," fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head up, "you do belong here. you belong here just as much as anyone else does. i need you here."

"you promise?"

"i promise baby," sebastian tucks a few wisps of hair behind your ear, "you're irreplaceable. who cares what they think? just focus on me. it's just you and i this weekend, okay?"

"okay," you nod, sniffling slightly.

"you know what i think?" he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"what?" you inquire, the tears dissipating as he brings you in closer.

"they're just jealous that i have the most breathtaking, stunning, kindest, funniest girlfriend in the whole wide world. and no one, i mean no one, can take that away from me. you're mine baby. and nothing is ever going to change that."

you find yourself nearly crumbling into his chest once again, "you mean that?"

"of course i do. now, let's go try this again. if anyone is rude or hateful, i'll just spit on them, okay?"

#sebastian vettel #seb vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x y/n #aston martin #aston martin racing

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lilislegacy · 3 months ago

Note

Are you aware of the hate you are getting right now for defending percabeth in that one cotg post? I’m sorry :(

Why yes, yes I am. I've received some lovely asks over the past few hours (not that it's anything new)

It's okay though because I deserve it, on some level. I started it by responding critically to an individual's post. That is not something I have ever done before, and I knew that by doing it, I could receive some serious backlash. I signed up for it. So don't be sorry! I need to learn to to work through comments like these.

Hear me when I say this: People who don't like percabeth and don't like Annabeth are NOT bad people. Oftentimes, I find the reasons how they justify it to be quite problematic, which I have talked a lot about, but that is just my own personal perspective. I'm not ashamed to post my opinions on here and point out things that I find problematic, but my intention is never to hurt, offend, or criticize individuals.

So, I don't regret what I posted and I stand by it. That said, I was a bit aggressive, and the way they all responded to me could have been a lot worse. At the end of the day, we are discussing fictional characters from children's books. It's not that deep, and I refuse to get into an online battle over it. I'm pretty sure that we all mean well. So nobody—I repeat, nobody—respond to them negatively, and especially not in my defense. Quite honestly, I'm very embarrassed that there's even an ounce of drama surrounding my name, because that is so not my intention or who I am as a person.

I love you all very much. And to the anti-percabeth and anti-annabeth fans who read this, even though we disagree on viewpoints, my intention is never to hurt any of you. I am truly sorry if I have. I try and bring different perspectives to the conversation, and sometimes I get too passionate about it and get myself in trouble lol. I am sure @fate-of-the-envious and the other posters who responded to my post are lovely people. Maybe we'd even be friends in real life. But I'm not perfect and they're not perfect and when we disagree this hard on something, there tends to be some tension. Like I said in the original post, I appreciate where they are coming from and understand what they are saying. I only hope that they can understand what I am saying, too.

I think there is so much good and so much beauty in Percy and Annabeth's relationsip. It's definitely flawed, just like the two of them are—and I think I have been pretty good about acknowledging their flaws. However, I think their ability to overcome those flaws and continue to love and protect each other, as best friends and as partners, is such a beautiful narrative. I'll never shut up about that or stop defending them. But it's okay that people disagree and I refuse to make enemies over it. So even though I have and will call Percy and Annabeth out for their downfalls, I love them and I'm gonna keep posting about why I love them. And the other side will keep posting critically about them. But overall, I'm really proud that we as a fandom can have discussions like these and listen to different perspectives, while also being passionate about how we feel.

Also, whichever side you're on, we can all agree on two things, right?

1) We love PJO, and 2) Rick needs to get it together LOL

#i came on strong lol #that’s my fault and I knew what I was getting into #they could have been a lot meaner to me #my fault guys!#now im gonna take a minute and go lay down on a cold floor lol #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo

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m1guelsgf · 4 months ago

Note

Request enemies to lovers with Axel?

hiiiii sorry this took me so long but i hope u like it and i hope u don't mind diaz!reader. if so just lmk and i will write you another version <3 enjoy!

alacran

axel kovacevic x diaz!reader

it was the first day of the sekai tekai and the arena was buzzing with excitement. all the worlds best fighters had made it to barecelona. this was no all valley. there wouldn't be any 'easy' matches. everyone who was here had fought and earned the spot that they have.

being on miyagi do's team was a blessing and a curse. you had been fighting alongside your brother since he started learning (it was the only way your mom would agree to letting him take the lessons) and now the both of you have the ultimate chance to prove yourselves. on the world stage at the sekai tekai. of course, miguel was still salty over losing the captain spot but you knew he would get over it eventually. robby was his best friend, thankfully after years of drama involving both sam and you. you knew miguel would eventually be able to be happy for him.

the announcer began explaining away the sekai tekai and the rules, introducing all the teams and letting you all know what your day had in store for you.

"it's a beautiful day to make a first impression."

you looked around the mat at all your competitors. fighters you will have to face at some point. you peered over at tory from your spot on the mat and frowned. you had been good friends with tory, starting when she started dating your brother. it didn't even phase you when she started dating robby, your ex, because you two were such good friends. no matter what has happened, all the drama, you and tory had always been there for each other and now she's on the other side of the mat.

"come on, let's go get changed." sam waved you over and you followed her out of the arena. you could see the weight on her shoulders and her concern for tory. you could see it on everyone, but especially robby and sam.

at the aquarium, you were watching all the captains get a group shot together.

"they're really going out of their way to let us know how special the captains are."

"yeah i'm getting that." miguel spoke, arms crossed and his eyes set on the group. it didn't take a genius to see that he was still seething over the captain debacle.

"it seems like everyone already knows each other." you commented, observing people going at each other and yelling. "and it's not friendly."

"maybe it's like prison. just punch the toughest guy square in the jaw on day one." demitri suggested.

you, hawk, and miguel turned to face him, evaluating what he had just said. "not sure where we should start then."

"what about ivan drago over there?" hawk nodded in the direction of one of the captains and you turned to look.

the first thing you noticed were his eyes. they drew you in really close and you could get lost in them if you weren't careful. he towered over everyone and his expression was serious as his gaze all but burned lazers through you.

"you there in the back, focus, come on!" the photographer got his attention back and the boy managed a half smile.

"he's been checking you out since we were at the arena." hawk nudged you with his elbow and you promptly nudged him back a little harder. "ouch."

"ugh." miguel rolled his eyes, disgusted at the notion that someone had been checking out his little sister. "i'm gonna catch up with sam, stay with her." he spoke to hawk and he nodded.

"i'm not a child miggy!" you called out after him and huffed, knowing hawk and demitri wouldn't let you out of their sight at miguel's order. no, you would have to be more clever. "hey guys, is that a polar bear?"

"where?" they spoke in unison and whipped around to see what you were talking about.

"they really shouldn't have one here in captivity, it's far from the best conservatory." demitri spoke and for a moment, they forgot that they were mad at each other while you quickly ran in the first direction you could.

quickly making your way through the halls of the aquarium, you were turning to look over your shoulder so much that you bumped into someone and sent yourself straight to the ground. you peered at their shoes, noticing they were still upright and let your gaze follow upwards until your heart dropped.

it was the boy. the ivan drago look alike. the guy hawk said had been checking you out was now standing above you, staring down at you with the same expressionless face as before. and then he utters his first words to you.

"watch where you're going."

"excuse me?" you immediately responded, brows furrowing as you stood yourself up.

"that's what you should have said." he shot back, posture rigid. he was almost like a statue.

your mouth parted to say something but you didn't know what to say. you narrowed your eyes at him. he was cute, but not cute enough to talk to you like that.

"y/n!"

thankfully, before you two could stand there gaping at each other, miguel had called your name from the end of the corridor. his arms were crossed and you could tell you were in for it.

"let's go."

you turned to follow miguel, not before throwing one last glare in the boy's direction.

"what the hell did i tell you?"

"technically, you told demitri and hawk to watch me. like a child." you spoke pointedly back at your brother.

"dude, mom told me to keep an eye on you and to keep you out of trouble. it's not my fault she doesn't trust you after everything." miguel referenced your cobra kai days after his injury where you partied, fought, and had a severe lack of respect for your family. "you really think i wanna babysit you while i'm in spain with my girlfriend? if you don't want a babysitter then grow the hell up."

you only raised your middle fingers in a childish display of disrespect and walked away from him. you spent the rest of the afternoon stuck between hawk and demitri who were competing on who could name the most sea creatures.

after the first day of challenges, where it seemed like everyone but miguel got properly washed on the mat, you decided to go down to one of the exercise rooms in the hotel. you had been stewing over what miguel said and your interaction with the boy, who you now know is named axel, so you really just wanted to escape into your head to the sound of your playlist while you beat the ever loving fuck out of the punching bag.

you thought back on axel, letting your anger towards him motivate you into throwing harder punches, making the bag inch across the floor with every blow of your fists or kicks. you hated that he was such a jerk because he was cute. you hated admiting it to yourself but it excited you when hawk told you he had been checking you out. you hadn't dated since robby (after miguel's injury you just couldn't see him the same) and you were looking forward to dating someone outside your immediate friend group. you felt stupid for getting your hopes up.

and you felt stupid in general. miguel was right. you had no one to blame but yourself for being on a short leash in the middle of spain. it was you who came home late all those times and yelled at your mom and yaya and caused so much trouble. you started imagining the bag as your past self, letting out loud yells of effort as you practiced different combinations.

"where was this on the mat?" a deep voice penetrated the music blasting into your ears from your headphones. you turned around to face axel, who was analyzing you.

when you saw him on the mat, you got a good idea of his skills based on the brief take down of both yoon and kwon.

and while your heart thumped against your chest because of the way he was looking at you and the way his white t-shirt outlined his frame, you were still annoyed at him. "excuse me but i have to go." you wiped your sweat, grabbing your gym bag and making your way to the door that was being blocked by axel. "excuse me." you reiterated, looking into his eyes that had a slight humor in them. "what?"

"you're pretty when you have manners." axel smiled at you and it angered you even further. instead of responding, you managed to squeeze through while passing underneath his arm. your hips brushed against his and you both went warm in the face.

you walked away from him, not before turning to look at him over your shoulder again. he was watching you leave, arms crossed over his chest while he leaned against the door frame.

that night you dream about him.

the second day of challenges was rough. you had held your own just fine but if it wasn't for miguel, you all would have had to go home. on top of that, daniel was missing for the entire day. the cherry on top though was learning that your mom was in the hospital.

"that's not fair, i should be there." you pleaded to johnny. you weren't as close with him as miguel was but he saw you as one of his kids.

"i know sweetheart, but me and miguel are gonna make sure she's okay." johnny placed his hands on your shoulders. "between you and me? miguel wouldn't be able to handle staying, not knowing if she's okay. i can't handle it. we both get caught up in our feelings and lose focus. but you're strong. you can do this. i need you to be here."

warm tears started rolling down your face when you realized he was right. miguel was in his room, sobbing while packing his bags and you were taking it better than the both of them. it's not that you didn't care, no your stomach was in knots and your heart was threatening to crawl out of your throat, you just knew there was nothing you could do except hope for the best.

"take care of her. call me as soon as you see her i don't care if it's still the middle of the night here. call me when you know she's okay." you hugged johnny tightly and he hugged you back in a fatherly way. you hadn't been hugged like this since the last time you saw your actual dad and that memory was slowly fading. johnny's hug communicated just how much he loved and cared for your family.

"okay." he whispered into your hair and kissed your forehead. "i'll go get miguel."

you sighed once johnny left your room and not long after, sam, robby, demitri, and eli trailed in.

"you okay?" robby asked cautiously. he had always been gentler with you but especially after everything. even though you had broken up ages ago, he never stopped caring about you and neither did you about him. you were good friends.

"i need a drink." you grabbed your purse and walked past them, out of your room. they all followed you.

at the bar, you had been on a slightly destructive path. you were nearing the threshold and about to cross over from being charmingly tipsy to just drunk.

"do you really need another?" tory asked, taking a seat besides you. "rough day?"

"you don't even know." you looked at your friend before taking a sip of your new drink.

"you didn't suck out there." she complimented in her own way.

"thanks." you replied dryly. the alcohol was starting to sour your mood and you could feel your head beginning to spin.

"are you okay?"

"no." you stood up, walking out of the bar. tory tried following but was stopped by robby. you stumbled your way down to the beach, dropping into the sand like a bag of bricks. you held your head in your hands, sitting with your knees to your chest as you tried to ground yourself.

it was all too much though. you started thinking about your mom and how much you needed her to be okay. other than when miguel got hurt, you hadn't been this scared before. the difference was, you were able to ride with miguel in the ambulance. your mom was across the globe and you wouldn't be able to tell if she was okay until they did. you had so many regrets about your mom. you weren't always the easiest child and lord knows you got into it with her too many times to count. that didn't mean you didn't love her though. she was the person you loved the most in the world after all her sacrifices for you and your brother.

you sat in the sand like that for a while, unaware of the people passing and the person watching you intently.

"too much to drink?" you recognized axel's voice and it plucked your heartstrings.

looking up at him with your glassy eyes, you saw his expression change. sniffling, you respond. "i'm really not in the mood right now so if you could please just fuck off, i would really appreciate it. thanks."

"i don't feel right just leaving you here." he responded, tone now serious. "i'll go back to practicing where i was. when you're ready to go back to the hotel just tell me."

and before you could respond, he was back at his spot in the sand practicing his kata.

you wallow for a bit longer, letting the sound of the ocean drown out all the other noise rattling around in your head. you checked your phone for any calls or messages but you had none. they were probably barely taking off. you used your phone as a mirror and wiped your face of any tears and snot that may have trickled and you slowly stood up. your head wasn't spinning any more but you still felt the effects of the alcohol as you stumbled your way towards axel through the sand.

his back was turned to you and you could see dark purple bruises on his back.

"jesus, what happened to you?"

this time was axel's turn to be surprised. "bo staff competition." he pulled his shirt over his head.

"right." you distinctly remember the announcer praising axel for not having a single point against him. untouchable. as he called him. your drunk brain was loosely connecting dots, like the shouts you had heard from the exercise room while axel and his sensei were training.

"ready?"

"yeah."

the two of you set off into the night, neither of you knowing what to talk about if anything.

axel felt conflicted. the only reason he had been so cold towards you was because he thought it would help him shove his feelings down. he liked you. he thought you were beautiful and talented and he wanted to get to know you but it would also be a devastating distraction for him. by the looks of it, you were dating that guy who had called out to you in the arena. to brush you off and away was supposed to help him focus on the tournament but here he was, walking you back to the hotel while you followed him like a sad little puppy. he wanted to ask what was wrong, why you were by yourself, but he knew it wouldn't lead to anything good so he stayed silent.

"can i ask you something?" when you got no response, you figured it was your queue to keep going. "why do you hate me? like i have a reason to hate you- because you're a stupid jerk, but why do you hate me? why do you-"

"i don't." axel hoped this would seem like a dream when you woke up in the morning rather than a memory. "i just can't like you."

"why? what did i do?" you were looking at him with those puppy dog eyes and he wanted to melt.

"i just can't. leave it alone." he spoke sternly, almost as if scolding a child.

"okay..." you huffed and it was silent for the rest of the walk. every now and then axel would have to grab onto your arms or shoulders to keep you from falling. it made it all so much harder for him. "thank you axel. you didn't have to."

he gave you a warm, unfamiliar smile. "i did. goodnight."

"g'nite." you got into the elevator and from there you can only remember waking up in your bed with a massive headache.

the next day, you had decided to go on a run with hawk. he told you the best way to cure a hangover was to sweat it out and it did help. you were just still confused at the way your night ended.

apparently miguel had called and informed you that your mom was okay and he and johnny were coming back but that moment was lost on you. the same as how you got home. were your dreams getting too realistic or did axel take care of you last night? you didn't know and were afraid to ask anyone. the miyagi do's trust was delicate and the captain of the iron dragon was giving you the cold shoulder when you saw him in passing. he had even started messing with miguel. glaring at him and shoulder checking him throughout the third day of challenges.

you didn't know what his problem was and you weren't eager to find out. especially with zara at his side, who you could only assume was his girlfriend. tory had already made an enemy of her and you weren't keen on doing the same.

"what the hell was that?" miguel asked you when axel shoved his shoulder into him for the nth time. this time was definitely intentional, there was no way to convince himself it was an accident.

"i don't know." you shrugged, glancing at axel who was coldly staring at you.

"stay away from that guy, yeah? he gives me the creeps." miguel places a hand on your back, leading you out of the arena while throwing a questioning glare over his shoulder at axel. you said nothing as your brother led you away.

after beating cobra kai and securing a spot in the semis, you had a bone to pick. your irritation was crawling all over you as you felt axel watching you through your whole match. it made you feel uneasy, being watched so closely. more importantly, it made you nervous. self conscious to the point of having a point landed on you.

"what the hell is your problem?" you asked harshly, slamming the door to the exercise room behind you. axel was alone just as you were the last time, taking his frustrations out on the punching bag.

"manners..." he tsked at you and you scoffed.

"fuck manners." you stepped closer, face heated with anger. "you're being such a pain in my ass and in miggy's and i wanna know why." you demanded.

"miggy." axel sucked his teeth, shaking his head at the affectionate nickname.

"seriously. what is your problem with me and my brother?"

brother? suddenly axel felt bad. "he's your brother?"

"what the fuck else would he be?" you narrowed your eyes, extremely annoyed by your inability to read him. axel didn't respond and you stepped closer. "i want you to leave us alone. stop bothering him and stop watching me."

"or what?" axel knew it was dangerous but he took another step closer to you. the silence hung heavy between the two of you as frustration was being emitted by the both of you. axel had been frustrated about you and now you were here. your eyes looking at him. your soft lips parting to speak. the blush on your cheeks. he just couldn't help himself.

and neither could you. it was like an impule for the both of you, immediately grabbing onto each other and going in for a kiss.

it was rough and angry. axel had been trying so hard to get you out of his head. his own mind and body were betraying himself because of you and he hated it. he hated the way you infected his mind.

and you hated that he had the same effect on you. he had been nothing but annoying since the very first day but you still wanted him. it didn't matter what miguel or anyone else thought. you finally gave in and you wanted this.

he wanted it too. you were pressed against the wall, his teeth grazing your bottom lip making you open your mouth wider for him. he held the back of your head as he kissed you deeper, liking the way your body pressed against his. quickly, you managed to swap postitions so it was him pressed against the wall.

from this vantage point, you were able to provide friction the both of you desperately needed. axel was moaning into your mouth and you were returning them. when your lips parted from each other, a string of saliva connected you two together as you panted breathlessly.

"leave me and my brother alone." you whispered, licking your lips and pecking his one last time before sauntering out of the room.

axel watched you go. he could leave miguel alone, sure. you on the other hand...

#axel kovacevic #axel cobra kai #cobra kai season 6 #axel kovacevic x reader #cobra kai x reader #axel kovacevic x diaz!reader

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