#She's Just Resigned Herself to Her Fate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prael · 2 months ago

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Day 6: Revenge Or Fate

IOI/Gugudan Sejeong x male reader smut

words: 5,611 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"What's that look for?" you ask with all the whimsy you can muster. "I only said that I bought your favourite popcorn. Why are you staring at me as if I just got down on one knee and proposed?"

"You did say you'd marry me someday," Sejeong jokes. Then she does that thing she always does when she's nervous—tugging at the lobe of her ear.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah. I mean when we are both in our sixties. When you have become the crazy cat lady and I the bachelor with a penchant for wine and cigarettes. It's not even close to that time yet."

"Why would you be smoking?" Sejeong wrinkles her nose. She knows you can't stand the smell.

"Because I'll be an ageing bachelor, duh," you answer with a dismissive wave of a hand as you sit by her on the couch. She's got her legs curled up against her chest, the way she always does when it's cold outside. You'd know—she's been sitting like that on your couch every winter since the beginning of time.

She lets out the softest of laughs before it quickly dissipates into silence. She's staring across the room, but not really looking at anything. Her face is painted in melancholy. You know her well enough to know that look, and you hate it. Hate everything it represents. You sigh. The first time you saw her like this was back as teenagers, after the dog she grew up with had been hit by a car. It still hurts your chest.

"You've got that look again," you tell her. "Like there's a million and one things in your mind and none of them particularly good."

"I'm okay. Just tired." Sejeong's smile doesn't quite convince you.

"I wasn't going to say anything. I thought you'd tell me if you wanted me to know, but it's been months since you asked me to come over on a Friday night, so something has happened. I haven't seen this much annoyance behind your eyes since the end of Game Of Thrones. What is it?"

"I'm just feeling overwhelmed, that's all. I wish you weren't so observant."

"You should be used to it by now."

Sejeong flashes a half-hearted smile and takes hold of your hand as she used to do when you were kids. You feel guilty for the way your stomach flutters.

"I guess we have always known each other better than anyone else," she admits, her hand still clasped around yours. It's warm and familiar. You feel the urge to push away, but how can you? It would give far too much away. She has always had this effect on you—you could never distance yourself from her warmth. "He's an asshole."

"You don't need to tell me twice," you chuckle. Then: "Tell me what happened."

"I think he might be cheating."

The air escapes from you at once. The way Sejeong said it is so casual, almost as if she'd resigned herself to this fate a long time ago. And here you are, trying your best to keep your anger under control, like always. But not for her sake—rather, for yours. You know where your feelings belong, and they have no place in the situation at hand. Not today, and definitely not ever. You take a deep breath and look her square in the eye.

"What did he do?"

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," she laughs nervously. She doesn't want to put any more weight on your shoulders than she already has, because that's who she is, you suppose. But how can she expect you to ignore it when she looks like a sad dog staring into the rain on someone's front porch?

"We're best friends. I want to hear everything," you insist.

"He's been acting differently lately." Sejeong pauses. "Distant. Like there's something he isn't telling me."

"Do you think there might be?" you ask carefully.

"It's always something with work. Or a friend that really needs him. Or a family member or—fuck. I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

Sejeong sighs and runs a hand through her hair. There are unshed tears in her eyes. This bastard is making her cry. You want to smash something, preferably his head.

"I don't wanna bother you with this shit," she whispers. She sounds exhausted.

"Don't say that," you retort softly, squeezing her hand in yours. It's clammy. "Don't ever say that again."

She gives a curt nod.

"God knows I've told you enough about my romantic misadventures over the years," you joke. Your chest tightens when Sejeong lets out the tiniest of laughs. Maybe you can still make this right, whatever this is. "Misery loves company."

"You know," she begins, pausing to look at you properly. There is something unreadable in her gaze, something that you've never seen before. It makes you hold your breath in anticipation of whatever is to come. "If there's one person I could choose to be miserable with, it would be you."

For a brief second, you forget that time exists.

"Well, I'm very honoured," you reply eventually. There's another pause where you ponder what to say next. Then, simply, because that seems like the easiest answer: "Do you want me to go beat him up?"

Sejeong laughs and punches you in the arm.

"I thought you were a pacifist?"

"Yeah, but exceptions must be made sometimes."

She raises an eyebrow at you. You can't tell what she's thinking. "For me?"

"Yes."

It feels like standing on a cliff. You want nothing more than to jump, to feel freefall in your whole body. The only problem is that you'll most certainly die. The ground below is made of jagged rocks and bad ideas. Yet, here you stand, willing to do anything in the world for the beautiful girl next to you. Even if it means lying broken beyond repair.

Sejeong breaks your trance when she explains, "There's this girl he works with. We had dinner together with some people from their office two weeks ago, and... I don't know. They just seemed off. She kept looking at him. You know that look? The one where they linger on someone just a bit too long."

"So that's what gave it away?"

"Well, that and the rumour. They had a thing before he met me. It's over now, or it was." A single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, seemingly irritated at herself. You frown. Sejeong has no reason to be ashamed of being hurt. She should be allowed to shed tears, even buckets full if necessary. You wouldn't judge. "At least that's what he said. He promised me it was over. But... God."

You reach forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her lips tremble, so you quickly move your eyes back up. Staring at her lips is dangerous territory.

"You don't deserve this shit," you say resolutely.

Sejeong chuckles sarcastically. "Then why do I keep ending up here?"

That question stings. Not because it's directed at you—it isn't—but rather because you know the answer. Sejeong has been in this kind of position too many times to count. She attracts guys like honey does flies; every single time, with no exceptions. Only the worst seem to make it past the rest. Sejeong gets caught in their deceitful net time and time again, only to inevitably break her heart after months and months of manipulation disguised as devotion.

"Want my honest answer?"

"Yes."

"I think it's because you're the sort of person that believes the best in everyone. And that is a beautiful trait. I love that you do that. I really do. But sometimes..." you trail off, not quite sure how to continue without sounding accusatory.

"Sometimes I get screwed over," Sejeong finishes. You nod in response. "You're right. I guess it's my fault for trusting too easily."

"No," you shake your head. "It's not your fault. That part is absolutely wonderful. It's just..." You're suddenly hesitant. What if Sejeong takes this the wrong way and shuts you out?

"What?" she probes.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'you can't see the tree for the woods'?"

"Sounds stupid."

"It means you can't see what's right in front of your nose," you explain.

Sejeong stares at you for a long time. You think she understands, but it's impossible to know. It would probably be better that way—if she understood and did nothing about it. You aren't supposed to feel this way about her. How many times haven't you imagined what it would be like if things were different? If circumstances were perfect, if her current guy hadn't appeared out of anywhere and swept her off her feet before you'd even realised what was happening.

But that's just your luck.

"Thank you," Sejeong whispers. "Can we, um, watch something? I don't wanna think about this right now."

You let out an awkward cough. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Do you remember when you forced me to watch Twilight, and I spent the entirety of the movie complaining about how terrible it was?"

"You still watched all of them with me." A tiny grin appears on her face. Thank God.

"That was truly the highest form of torture," you joke. "I hope you brought something better today. Please don't tell me you downloaded another movie about sparkly vampires."

Sejeong punches your arm. "I'll have you know I am extremely cultured nowadays."

"Yeah? Show me then."

A couple of hours pass and everything feels decidedly normal. You rest against the arm of the couch and Sejeong rests against you. You make jokes at the expense of the film as you always do and she laughs that soft, carefree laugh of hers. The credits roll and Sejeong sits up, stretching her limbs like a cat after a nap. You smile at the familiarity of it all. For a moment it doesn't matter what she has—or hasn't—been crying over.

"I'm tired," she says. She blinks slowly as if to prove it to herself. It's quite endearing, actually.

"Yeah?" you ask nonchalantly.

"Will you let me stay here tonight?" Her voice is small, unsure. But why? It's not the first time she has stayed here. This place is practically a second home to her.

"Like you need to ask," you retort lightly as you stand up and look down at her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but that's when her phone rings. When she sees his name flashing across the screen, she visibly freezes. Annoyance seeps into you like acid rain. His nerve—to call at such an hour, and expect her to pick up. Sejeong just watches, almost paralyzed, until eventually, she does pick up.

"Hey," is all she says. The reply is much longer. You can't make out the words he's saying but the tone tells you all you need to know.

"I was going to," Sejeong replies tersely. Silence. Then: "I told you already, I went over to—" Pause. She swallows thickly. "You didn't tell me you were going out." A longer stretch of silence, during which his voice gradually increases in volume. Suddenly Sejeong sits bolt upright. Her eyes grow wide with confusion and disbelief.

"Me!?" She shouts. "He's my best friend! I wouldn't—" Another pause. She takes a deep breath. "No. No, that isn't fair. You can't—"

It sounds like he hangs up. Sejeong doesn't move. Her hands are shaking violently.

"Do I even wanna know?"

"I should go home," she murmurs flatly.

"To him? To the guy who's probably just fucked his co-worker?"

Sejeong turns to glare at you, eyes cold as ice. You immediately regret your words.

"I'm sorry," you quickly amend. "That was uncalled for. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" she asks bluntly. Your heartbeat picks up in a hurry. There's anger in her eyes. Anger that could turn against you so quickly.

"Why what?" you reply defensively.

"Why don't you wanna be with anyone? You've rejected every single person who's tried to get close to you since we were sixteen. There's got to be a reason."

The world grinds to a halt. Time, space, and life itself stop existing for a minute while you consider your options. On the one hand, you could lie; come up with a suitable excuse and maybe she won't push for more. On the other hand, you could simply admit to the truth that's haunted you for years.

You open your mouth. Close it. Fuck.

Sejeong stands up, wading in the silence towards you. You can't help but take a step backwards. In that split second, you're sure she knows—and yet you cannot tell.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" Sejeong demands to know.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears. "I don't understand why you're asking me this," you choke out. A part of you wishes you were back there on the cliff. At least then you could've jumped off of your own accord, with a little dignity left intact.

"I need to know," is all Sejeong says. Her gaze is relentless. You hate it. It makes you want to claw your own skin off—and there are truths under there that you plan to take to the grave.

"Why?"

"Because I need to know if what I'm going to do next is the right thing."

She stands beside you now. On the edge of that cliff, though it's starting to feel more like you're on the roof of your car. Staring up at the stars on some forgotten summer night. The jump seems more like a flight.

"I have," you admit. Somehow it seems easier than to try and fight whatever force is controlling the both of you. It feels strangely liberating.

"But you won't allow yourself to do anything about it." You know her well enough to discern a question from a statement, no matter how carefully she might try to veil them as the latter.

"It's complicated," you say quietly. She's so close to you now that you can hear the hitch in her breath. Why is she pushing this? "Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes flit from yours to your lips, then back again. So quickly. One, two. But you saw it. And your entire body tingles in anticipation. You'll dare move away—not now, not when the leap of faith feels more like a hop.

She doesn't say anything else. One more small step and her body collides with yours. Lips press against lips and suddenly, all thought scatters. Sejeong tangles her fingers through your hair and pulls. A gasp escapes you before you regain control and kiss her properly. It's frantic, rushed. Years of pining bleed out with every touch. You grab her, pull her as close to your body as possible, and lose yourself completely. Something is swelling inside you. A feeling so large and uncontainable that you think your chest is going to explode any second.

It is indescribable.

All of it—the sensation of kissing her, holding her—surpasses description. You're falling from that cliff, but she's holding you, and before you can hit the rocks she's dragging you to the couch and climbing on top of you.

It feels unreal. The entire world disappears as your lips find hers again and again and again. You don't care to question what happens after. This moment is yours, forever branded in your memories, and nothing can take that away from you. Even if it ends here—even if she were to walk away now—it would've been worth it. Completely and irrevocably.

When you finally part to catch your breath, you can't help but stare at her in awe. She's so beautiful. A masterpiece. Your hand moves to her cheek almost automatically. Sejeong lets her head fall against it with a soft sigh.

"Wow," she whispers.

"Yeah," you croak.

"Please don't regret this in the morning." Her voice is so quiet, filled with so much pain, that it breaks your heart. Your own fears are secondary.

"I never could," you breathe. Then you lean in to kiss her again, slower this time, savouring every sensation as if it might be the last. By some miracle she responds eagerly, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt as she holds you steady. You have no idea where this leaves the two of you, but you want her closer—now. You reach around and slide your hands under her thighs, pulling gently upwards. She follows your lead, settling against your lap in a way that makes the situation undeniably real.

As you kiss, her hips start moving back and forth. Soft, shallow movements. Little whimpers escape her throat and fall directly into your mouth. Fuck. She moans—actually moans—into the kiss and a violent shiver travels through your whole body. You break away momentarily to look at her face, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes staring back at you.

"Do that again," you whisper against her lips.

"Make me," she pants.

The next kiss is searing, open-mouthed, and accompanied by Sejeong grinding her hips against you. Harder now. Unrelenting. Your hands travel up her waist, slipping beneath her blouse to feel warm skin underneath. You feel every tremble of her body when your fingernails drag lightly across her flesh. A gasp—then she leans backwards, with her arms outstretched and clinging behind your neck, to look you dead in the eye as she continues moving her hips against you.

"Sejeong... What are we—"

"Shh."

Your hands snake further up her shirt. Her back arches in response as she grinds down hard, moaning loudly. Your eyes flutter shut briefly to enjoy the sensations—the sounds—coming from her. You force them open once more because you can't miss this show for anything. You push the shirt up and over her chest. Her hands slip from behind your neck momentarily so that you can get the garment over her head. And then she is there before you, bra and sweatpants-clad, panting softly and waiting.

"Sejeong—"

"Fuck me." It is barely more than a whimper, but it rattles the very core of your being.

"What?"

She lunges forward and kisses you forcefully. There are tears in her eyes—tears you didn't notice until now. Her desperation bleeds through.

"Please," she whispers into your mouth, her voice breaking slightly. "Please."

You can't deny her. How could you? You're unfastening the clasp of her bra and your hands are everywhere on her. Pulling her closer, exploring every inch of bare skin you can get your hands on. Her fingers start unbuttoning your shirt—clumsily, but getting the job done. Once open, her nails dig into your bare shoulders, as if testing out whether you're really here, tangible and real. As if you could disappear at any moment and leave her stranded. A loud groan escapes her when your fingers brush against her nipples.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you murmur into her ear. She whines at the words, nails digging deeper into your skin.

The friction between your legs is driving you mad. You've got the burning urge to pick her up and slam her into the nearest wall, but you savour what you have. First, you kiss her neck, then it's a trail down her collarbones. Your teeth nibble playfully at the skin until she moans, begging you to do something. You obey, leaning in to flick your tongue across a nipple before swirling it around the bud. Her fingers fly into your hair and hold you against her breast.

"Holy shit."

Your mouth latches on tighter. Sucking. Biting. The heat pooling between you grows more intense. Eventually, you detach and move on to the next, eliciting more delicious sounds from the girl above you. All those nights spent fantasising about exactly this don't come close to the real experience. You're supporting her, around the waist and the small of her back, while she leans back in your lap, presenting herself to you.

You appreciate every inch of her slender figure. By eye and then by tongue. You draw constellations along her skin, your touch is feather-light. Across her toned stomach to her hips, then right up the side of her body. She throws an arm above her head and giggles lightly as you lick all the way up underneath it. You follow a path to her armpit. Sejeong giggles more when you begin to nibble there too. When you raise your eyes to meet hers she blushes fiercely.

"Weirdo."

"Just appreciating you," you murmur, pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and up to her neck.

"Mm. I like it," she replies hoarsely.

So you spend some time like this. Appreciating her bare body and making her squirm. Kissing, licking, and biting everything that you can possibly reach until her writhing becomes borderline violent. Then she grabs a hold of your jaw, looks you deep in the eyes, and utters the most sinful words you've ever heard her say.

"Enough teasing. I want to ride your cock now."

Every inch of you lights on fire. From your forehead to the tips of your toes, you feel flames lick at your insides. Sejeong climbs off you without another word and starts pushing her sweats from her hips. You watch, spellbound, as she wiggles out of them. Her panties follow suit.

Then she turns to face you. Standing fully nude, absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word. A goddess. Every bit as perfect as you had imagined. Even your fantasies weren't this good; nowhere near as intoxicating as this moment right now.

"You have ten seconds before I sit on your face instead," she deadpans, you both laugh. At least she hasn't lost her humour.

You unbuckle your belt and shuffle them down as best you can while still seated. Enough that she can reach down and pull your cock free from its confines. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when she wraps her slim fingers around it. Pumping up and down. You're hard already, unbelievably so, and when she drags her thumb across the head of your dick it actually twitches. You suck in a deep breath, willing yourself to focus.

And then she sits on your lap, sliding along the length of your cock. Fuck. She repeats it a few times. Back and forth, slicking your cock with her wetness.

"I always pictured this," she admits.

"Really?" you croak.

"God yeah, I remember back in college. I must have rubbed one out to you more times than I can count." She smirks at you then—a wicked smirk that makes your entire body shiver. A filthy admission to you and you only. She does it again, drags her wetness along you. How on earth are you supposed to remain composed when she says things like that and does things like this? You wrap an arm around her back and pull her closer, staring at her as if seeing her for the very first time.

"You can't say things like that, I'm gonna—"

She cuts you off with her tongue in your mouth. Kissing you like it's the last thing she'll ever do, and your lips the only form of sustenance she'll ever need. It gives way to her frantic little moan, desperate and unrestrained. For the life of you you can't comprehend what is happening, only react, and fuck if it isn't the most incredible experience you've ever had. Her skin is burning against yours, hungry and yielding to your every touch.

Sejeong shifts slightly and grabs a hold of you properly. Your eyes widen when the tip of your dick brushes against something wet, warm, and soft. The very centre of her. She repositions herself, now holding you carefully against her, and then... slides down the length of your cock, pausing halfway down. The pleasure is so acute that you cannot control the way your back arches off the couch, and neither do you control the profanities that spill out from your lips.

A sinful grin spreads across her face. As her legs are pinned around your waist, you cannot move, but Sejeong certainly can. And boy, does she know how. She starts bouncing herself up and down, riding you so expertly and looking so good doing it. You've thought of this so many times—having sex with your best friend, of all people—but you did not picture it like this.

"This okay?" she murmurs in your ear. You hear the smile in her voice.

You utter the only word you can muster: "Yes."

She laughs airily, placing a kiss on your temple as she continues her rhythm. When she moans—a long, drawn-out moan, half-pained, half-pleasured—and throws her head back, you stare up at her, eyes drinking in the beauty that is in a position so incredibly vulnerable yet completely in control. How you long to capture this moment and keep it somewhere safe forever. She looks down at you now. Her heavy-lidded eyes pin you to your spot as much as the physical manifestation of her pinned against your skin. She traces her fingers down your jaw, your neck, and the top of your chest.

"I wish he could see me now," Sejeong hisses, anguish evident in her voice.

"You look so fucking good."

"He doesn't know what he had," she laughs bitterly. "Fuck him."

"Fuck him," you echo. Sejeong smirks and moves her hips more fluidly. Goddamn. Her tight little cunt feels so perfect clenched around your cock.

She watches your face closely as she keeps riding you. As you keep clutching her hips and help her along, grinding deeper. Groaning when she throws her hips forward faster and faster. Her cunt is so hot and tight. She sucks at the life seeping out of your pulsating cock and squeezes it with her inner muscles in ways that no one has ever done before. Sometimes she pulls completely off you, her breath shuddering as you twitch, only to take you deep inside her again.

Your hands have a mind of their own, sneaking upwards to grip her neck. You give it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention. All the while you're staring intensely into her eyes. They've become glassy, intoxicated, more than just wanting but longing for it. Her voice is hoarse, strained, as she says, "How have I been so stupid? All this time—you're right here, and I never—"

"It doesn't matter. None of that matters."

"You're so—fuck."

Her body trembles and she falls forward onto you. She's gripping your arms, nails sinking into your flesh. Sejeong's breath grows increasingly laboured. After a long string of expletives, she lets her head rest on your shoulder as you snake an arm around her back and support her. Her whole body is rigid, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

"Never felt this good," she forces the words out amid moans as you buck your hips up into her, picking up the slack as she begins to falter. The rhythm is quick now, urgent, filled with unbridled passion and everything left unspoken for too long.

When Sejeong cums, you feel it all around you—her pussy quivering, leaking her arousal around you, dripping down your thighs and saturating you, almost drowning in the intensity. It makes her moan into the crook of your neck and rock her hips, fucking herself while trying desperately to quiet the sounds of her ecstasy against your body. But that is unthinkable, to silence someone like that, and you tell her so. Whispering the filthiest things in her ear as she throbs around your cock, dragging out the last tremors of pleasure of her orgasm as much as you possibly can. She spills everything out into your shoulder, every word, every whimper. Until at last, you can feel her sagging in your lap, breathing heavily and spent.

"Keep going," she pants, tightening her grip on your arm. "Don't stop."

She throws herself to the side, pulling you with her, and somehow lands flat on her back with your body on top of her. You wince at the sudden shift. But not for long. Because Sejeong opens her legs wide, hooks her calves around your hips, and tells you again not to stop.

You smirk and lean forward, trapping her beneath your body and capturing her lips in a sensual kiss. It is deliberate, lingering. Her arms fly up and tangle themselves through your hair, locking you together. When your tongues meet, you sigh deeply against her. There is a warmth settling over you. Languid, dream-like. Like you're both floating through clouds, carried away by the sweetest of breezes.

There is nowhere else in the world that you would rather be than right here, between her legs.

You rock into her, once, then twice, each time more intense than the last. The angle is entirely different. You grab a hold of one of her legs and hitch it up a bit, allowing yourself to thrust deeper inside her.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm. Move slower. Nice and slow," she instructs.

And you do. Eventually, a hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck. Sejeong stares into your eyes and your breath catches. Then you're kissing, again and again, but there is not so much desperation and anger anymore, but something else. It is the feel of her hips meeting yours, the way you press your bodies together, the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breaths rush from her lips to yours, from hers into you.

Sweat starts to bead at your temples as you rock into her. Slow, deep, patient strokes. It is not desperate fucking anymore, or an attempt to pour all of your heartbreak into some meaningless action. It's almost reverential—the way you're holding each other, soft and sure. A sweet torture, a sublime suffering, for as long as time allows.

You don't talk. Your mouths say nothing, at least. With your bodies, however, your fingertips whisper praise against her skin. Spirits float free and serenade each other. Sounds escape her that you haven't even dreamed of. Broken, wanton, as if wrenched out of her. They rise above and meet in a higher plane of reality, where two minds are one.

It takes time. A slow build to the crescendo. You know when you've struck the final note by the way she cries out, over and over again, her pretty little hole convulsing, spasming around your cock. She wants to squirm away but has nowhere to go. You refuse to let her. You smile against her neck and sink your teeth into the skin there.

Soon you follow, groaning her name into the warm flesh. It's a flood—your insides are melting, pouring out from your loins and into her heat, her insides contracting, trapping every ounce inside. Hot, sticky, yours. This feeling. It is as if your heart has grown wings, a phoenix born anew from the ashes of who you used to be. You don't have to be lost anymore. She will carry you, always, her fingernails tracing patterns in your damp skin. There is nothing to fear.

Sejeong whines and moans softly as you fill her. One more careful thrust and you still, collapsing on top of her as the waves subside. All the while she is there, stroking the back of your neck and quietly reciting every piece of filth that she can think of.

You wonder whether this will last longer than the night.

God. Would you be okay with that?

When you eventually move back to look at her, to make sure she's okay, there are tears in her eyes. Uncertainty overwhelms you. Before you can react, before you can ask what is wrong, Sejeong cups your cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. This girl. All these years. All the wasted time. It feels right being with her; everything is finally where it should have been all along.

"You were worth the wait," you breathe. You place a kiss against her brow before rolling off and settling next to her.

"Do you..." Her voice fades. She runs a finger along your collarbone, eyes anywhere but yours. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing?

"No," you answer without hesitation. You catch her hand in yours, entangling your fingers, willing her to understand everything that you're unable to tell her.

Sejeong smiles. Genuine, unapologetic. For the first time in months, she looks happy. Fuck him, indeed. "Good," she says with a soft laugh that evaporates any of her lingering doubts. Her eyes flick to your lips and she whispers, "So, uh, we've got some lost time to make up for."

"Yeah?" you whisper while rolling her back over and climbing over her. "If there's a debt to be paid..." You start trailing kisses down her neck, down her sternum, grinning at the tiny shivers it elicits. "What better time than now?"

Your kisses lead you over her toned stomach. Once you reach the juncture between her thighs, you pick up her leg and set it over your shoulder. Sejeong is already squirming, anticipating what is to come. You take a look at her—mussed hair and flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, beautiful, tempting. It feels almost gratuitous—that you're able to see her like this. It makes you pull her even closer, and stick your tongue into her center. Her upper body lifts almost immediately and her eyes fly open. A shaky whimper leaves her lips.

She's right. There is a lot of catching up to do. Luckily for her, there's still the whole night ahead of you and a lot more you'd like to show her.

#Sejeong smut #Gugudan smut #ioi smut #male reader #kpop smut #m reader #Sejeong x reader #praelmas #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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dumb-ster-fire · 26 days ago

Text

Inner Circle Banter x fem!reader — Part 1

Azriel x mate!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N tilted her head against Azriel’s shoulder, her fingers tracing along his forearm with lazy affection. Then, in a voice that dropped into something dark, something near-predatory, she whispered,

“You are mine.”

The room went silent.

Azriel arched a brow, barely holding back a smirk as he glanced down at her. Cassian’s eyes widened slightly. Mor stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Then—Y/N giggled. Bright, sweet, utterly unbothered, as if she hadn’t just sounded like a vengeful spirit claiming its next victim.

Cassian groaned, running a hand down his face. “I knew it. She’s finally lost it.”

Y/N turned her mischievous grin on him. “Finally?”

Azriel just exhaled, shaking his head as he pulled her closer. “You’re a menace.”

“You love it,” she sang, snuggling into him.

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, his arm tightening around her waist as she nestled into him. “That’s debatable.”

Y/N gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest as if he’d just delivered a mortal wound. “Debatable?!”

Cassian, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a grin. “I mean, he’s not wrong. You are kind of terrifying.”

Y/N turned her head slowly to him, her eyes gleaming. “Good. That means you know better than to cross me.”

Cassian raised his hands in surrender. “See? Terrifying.”

Mor, fully enjoying the chaos, snickered. “Honestly, I don’t know who’s worse. You or Az.”

Azriel just shook his head, his fingers idly stroking along Y/N’s back. “It’s definitely her.”

Y/N gasped again, but this time, a sly smile followed. She lifted herself just enough to whisper in his ear, her lips brushing against his skin as she purred, “And yet, you adore me.”

Azriel stilled. His shadows curled subtly around her, betraying him before he could even open his mouth.

Rhys chuckled from across the room. “He’s doomed, and we all know it.”

Y/N smirked, eyes bright with victory as she nuzzled against Azriel’s shoulder again. “Damn right he is.”

Azriel sighed, but there was no real exasperation in it—just quiet, resigned affection. His fingers continued tracing small, absentminded patterns on Y/N’s back as she lounged against him, entirely too pleased with herself.

Cassian, still grinning, leaned back in his chair. “You know, I think we should take bets on how long it takes before Az fully accepts his fate as a whipped male.”

Y/N lifted a hand, lazily flipping him off without even bothering to sit up. “We both know he already has.”

Azriel didn’t argue. He simply took Y/N’s hand, lowering it from its obscene gesture and kissing her knuckles like the smug bastard he was.

Mor whistled. “Damn, that was smooth.”

Y/N groaned dramatically, tossing her head back. “Ugh, I hate that he’s smooth.”

Azriel smirked, shadows curling playfully around her wrist before dissipating. “No, you don’t.”

Y/N grumbled under her breath, refusing to dignify that with a response.

Amren, who had been silently sipping her wine the entire time, finally chimed in. “If I have to endure one more minute of you two making heart eyes at each other, I’m going to start throwing furniture.”

Y/N lifted her head just enough to peer at Amren. “Bold of you to assume Rhys wouldn’t just shield everything before you even got a chance.”

Rhys, sprawled lazily in his chair, merely shrugged. “I mean, I would, but I’d let her throw Cassian first.”

Cassian let out an offended squawk. “Excuse me?!”

Feyre sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can we go one night without devolving into chaos?”

Y/N tilted her head, pretending to think. “No.”

Azriel’s quiet laugh vibrated against her, and that alone made the entire exchange worth it.

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liz-on-leash · 4 months ago

Note

you are jiheon brother (or father) and you love to sniff her used panties, one day she catches you in the act so you have no more options than stuffing them into her mouth and r*pe her <3

Jiheon × Male Reader

Rape, Incest, Brother-Sister

1,541 words

Don't mind the random drop. I was cleaning my draft and thought I should finish this one and post it. Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

You stuff Jiheon's mouth with her own dirty panties, the acrid stench of your arousal mixed with her fear and utter disgust. The salty tang of sweat mingles with a faint musk, the heady scent of Jiheon's nether regions flooding your senses. You breathe deeply, savoring the exquisite aroma, feeling yourself swell inside your jeans.

Jiheon gags and sputters around the fabric gag, her pretty face contorted in revulsion. Tears roll down her cheeks as she tries in vain to spit out the revolting improvised gag. But you hold it firmly in place, twisting the crotch of the panties into a tight knot at the back of her head.

"Shh, it's okay, Jiheon-ah," you croon sickeningly, petting her hair. "Just hush now while oppa takes care of you."

She whimpers and shakes her head frantically, trying to jerk away from your touch. But she's too weak from the beating you just gave her. Jiheon slumps against the wall, her body quaking with quiet sobs, the gag muffling her cries.

You can't help but give her perky ass a firm smack, watching it jiggle delectably under her short denim shorts. The flimsy twill fabric does little to hide the round globes of her bottom, riding up to expose the creamy tops of her thighs. Your cock throbs at the tantalizing sight.

Cracking your knuckles, you grab Jiheon roughly by the hair and yank her head back. "Keep fighting me and it'll only get worse," you growl menacingly. "Be a good girl now, okay? No more struggling. Your big brother's gonna give you what you need."

She blinks up at you with wide, fear-stricken eyes, tears clinging to her thick lashes. A whimper escapes her gagged mouth at your words. But Jiheon goes limp, submitting herself to your depraved whims with a hopeless sob.

"That's better," you purr, releasing her hair. "Such an obedient little sister you are. I'm gonna fuck you so good now."

Turning her around, you brace Jiheon's chest against the wall, admiring the way her crop top rides up to expose the soft curve of her lower back. Your hand finds its way underneath the hem, caressing the warm skin. She shudders but doesn't resist, resigned to her fate.

You undo the top button of her shorts and slowly unzip them, letting the garment hang open on her slim hips. Your fingers hook into the waistband of her panties and peel them down in excruciating slowness. The fabric clings to her goosebump-covered thighs and you have to tug it past her knees before it finally flutters to the floor, leaving her lower half bare.

"Fuck, what a perfect pretty cunt," you groan, drinking in the sight of Jiheon's glistening pink folds. "I'm going to enjoy this, Jiheon-ah."

Your other hand fumbles with your jeans, urgently unbuttoning them and shoving them along with your boxers down around your thighs. Your throbbing erection springs free, slapping heavily against thigh. The swollen purple head already glistens with precum.

You step forward and grind your bare cock against Jiheon's plump asscheeks, groaning at the silky skin on skin contact. Your length slides between her thighs to nudge insistently at her dripping entrance.

"Get ready, baby," you hiss in her ear. "I'm going to split you open on my fat cock."

Jiheon just whimpers, pushing her face into the crook of her elbow. But you don't care about her pain or humiliation anymore. All you can focus on is the aching need pulsing in your engorged shaft, the primal urge to claim your sister as your own.

You bunch her hips forward, spreading her asscheeks wide open with your thumbs. Lining the broad tip of your cock up with her fluttering labia, you begin to push inside with agonizing slowness. The engorged head stretches her open, forging a path through her clenching walls.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight!" you groan rapturously, fighting the urge to slam balls-deep into her at once. You want to prolong this blissful torture, to make her feel every excruciating inch of your length dragging inside her.

Inch by torturous inch you work your being cock into Jiheon's snug passage, forcing her open to accommodate your girth. She begins to squirm and buck against the invasion, a muffled scream tearing up her throat. But you just slap her ass hard, jolting her forward and driving your cock in deeper.

Finally you bottom out, your pelvis smushing against the backs of her thighs. Jiheon jerks and writhes, trying to escape the thick shaft impaling her. But you just wrap your arms around her from behind, pinning her tight against your chest in an inescapable hold.

"C'mon sis, you feel that?" you groan in her ear, grinding your hips in a filthy circle. "You feel your oppa’s cock splitting your cunt wide open? God I knew you'd feel amazing on my dick..."

Jiheon sobs brokenly, shaking her head and trying to cover her face. Her tight sheath clamps down rhythmically around your length as if trying to buck you out. But you just laugh and start to move, nibbling and sucking on the side of her neck. You hike her leg up high on your hip, tilting her pelvis back to alter the angle of penetration.

You set a brutal pace, jackhammering into Jiheon's upturned pussy with animalistic grunts. The sounds of flesh smacking against flesh echoes obscenely through the room, mingling with your sister's stifled cries. Her pert breasts bounce wildly against the wall with every rough thrust, the flimsy triangles of her bra straining to contain them.

"Take all of it, take my cock like a slut," you snarl, punctuating your words with savage slaps to her ass. Her creamy cheeks jiggle like jello and bloom with red handprints. "Fuck, I'm gonna ruin this pussy, make you my perfect little cock sleeve. You're never gonna let anyone else inside you after I'm done, only I get to fill this cunt from now on!"

With that degrading declaration, you rise up on your toes, hauling Jiheon off the floor and bending her in half. You begin to rut into her wildly from behind, yanking her hips back to meet your savage thrusts. The head of your dick kisses the entrance to her womb with every plunge, the flared tip catching on some inner ridge inside her that makes her clench and spasm.

Jiheon's legs give out and she slumps forward into the wall but you hold her up easily, one arm wrapped around her narrow waist like a steel band. Your other hand whips up and grabs a fistful of her hair, wrenching her head back at a painful angle so you can rub your scruff over the delicate skin of her neck and shoulder.

"P-Pl- Please," she hiccups out between choking sobs, her voice muffled and garbled around her gag. "I c-can't... it's t-too m-much! I'm g-gonna- Ahhhngh!"

Her back arches sharply and she clamps down HARD around you, her inner muscles rippling and fluttering. You feel a flood of liquid heat gush out around your pistoning shaft and splash down your balls. The realization that you just made your sister piss herself in unwilling ecstasy sends you hurtling toward the edge.

"Fuck… cum for me Jiheon-ah!" you roar, slamming into her harder and faster. "Gonna pump you full of my cum and make this womb quicken with my baby! Nnngh your cunt is MINE now, only I get to fuck it, unnnfff!"

Your last word dissolves into an animalistic grunt as your cock jerks and swells inside her, the boiling pressure in your heavy balls finally erupting. You grind your pelvis flush against Jiheon's ass and hold her tight as you begin to unload spurt after spurt of thick cum directly into her spasming womb. It feels like your orgasm lasts an eternity, your cock flexing and pulsing with every wave of pleasure.

By the time you're spent, Jiheon is shaking and shuddering weakly in your bruising grip, completely limp and unresisting. Her entire body is slick with sweat and streaked with tears. A thin trickle of urine paints the inside of her thighs and puddles on the floor between her dangling feet.

You press sloppy kisses over the livid marks marring the back of her neck before carefully unwrapping her wrists and pulling the sodden crotch of her panties out of her mouth. Jiheon immediately begins to retch and cough, sucking in huge gulps of air.

"That's enough playtime for today, baby sister," you rasp, your voice raw with satisfaction. You carefully shift your softening cock out of her abused hole, watching with approval as a river of pearly cum follows in its wake to splatter obscenely down her trembling thighs.

"You got filled up real good. I think you're gonna get pregnant from this, huh? God that'd be something, my baby growing in your belly while you're still dripping with my cum..."

Jiheon sets up a pitiful wail at your words, her body beginning to shudder and quake with great, wracking sobs. But you just smile indulgently and gather her pliant form up in your arms, carrying her off to bed without a care in the world. It's time to pick up right where you left off.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #tw noncon #male reader #short smut #fromis 9 jiheon #jiheon smut #fromis 9 smut

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hopelessromantic5 · 1 year ago

Text

King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.

Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.

As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.

He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.

The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.

No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.

He’d resigned himself to an early death.

Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”

Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.

In the distance, he could hear a sound.

The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.

Visitors were approaching.

It must be fate, he thinks.

As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.

Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.

“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.

Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.

“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.

“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“

“What has he done?”

“Sire?”

“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.

“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.

Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.

“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.

“So this man-“

“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.

“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”

Again no answer.

The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.

The doomed boy nearly gasped.

Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.

The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.

Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.

“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.

Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.

“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“

“I am not my father. Cut him down.”

Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.

What a prince he was.

Well, King, now.

No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.

Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.

The sound of salvation.

Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.

“I said, cut him down.”

The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.

Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.

Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.

Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.

He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.

As was-

“What is your name?”

It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.

He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.

“Merlin.”

The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.

“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”

Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.

King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.

“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.

The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said

“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.

Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.

Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.

Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.

Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.

“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.

“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”

Merlin sighed into her shoulder.

“Alright.”

When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.

Merlin was starting to warm to him already.

“Can I pack first?”

King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.

“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.

If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.

And perhaps, one knowing mother.

#merthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur fic #merlin and arthur #hunith #king arthur #Ealdor #might continue #longer version will probably be on ao3

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girlgenius1111 · 6 months ago

Text

turbulence

barça!teen reader you hate flying, and you hate planes. normally, you manage a fair amount of control over your anxiety, but when you run out of your anxiety medication just before leaving for the preseason games in the US, you lose control, and have no choice but to turn to your teammates for help.

Air travel was just part of your job. It was something you’d never quite gotten used to, but also not something you made a big deal about. At least, not normally.

You had your plane routine; take your anxiety medication, sleep the whole flight if you could, and at the very least, close your eyes all through take off and landing. It was common knowledge among the team that you fell asleep very easily; a bus ride longer than 20 minutes, and you were out cold. No one really batted an eye, then, when you pulled your eyeshades over your face almost as soon as you got in your seat on the plane. However, when one of the steps of your routine failed, the rest of it toppled over like a set of dominos.

A 12.5 hour flight was bad enough to begin with. It wasn’t possible to sleep the whole time, but you’d downloaded a few movies and brought a book with you, so there were suitable distractions. It was manageable, though not ideal.

Until you checked the little pill bottle just before you left for the airport, and realized you were out of your anxiety medication. How it had slipped your mind to refill the bottle after the last flight you’d taken was beyond you, but you genuinely didn’t recall running out.

There was nothing you could do. There wasn’t time to refill your prescription, you had to leave to meet the team in 5 minutes. You stood frozen for a moment, the prospect of not just one flight, not two, but three entire long flights completely unmedicated quickly sending you into a spiral.

Alexia’s voice broke you out of your stupor.

“Chica! It’s time to go!”

Any other day, you would have been annoyed that your captain used her key to let herself in, but today you didn’t have it in you. You were resigned to your fate, grabbing your bag and taking a deep breath, before you headed out to the living room.

Alexia was waiting impatiently, though she grinned when she saw you. “Ready?!”

You tried to match her energy, though her smile faltered, and you were sure you failed. “Yeah! Let’s go!”

The blonde studied you as you walked down to her car with her, and you tried to act as normally as you could, even though internally, you were freaking out. You and Alexia lived in the same building, which was one of the conditions for living alone at 18 that the club had set. She checked on you constantly, showing up unannounced to drag you to dinner at her apartment, or bringing you a protein smoothie that she’d just happened to make extra of. Alexia took her job of watching out for you very seriously, and you couldn’t imagine how much more intense she would be if she found out how bad your anxiety could get.

It didn’t seem like something a professional footballer should have, in your head, so you pretended you didn’t have it. You took your medication, you went to therapy, and you dealt with it all yourself. You didn’t keep many things from Alexia, as she’d quickly become like an older sister to you, but this one thing you just couldn’t bring yourself to admit. No matter how much you wanted to break down and tell her everything you just… couldn’t.

You could feel her worry growing as you got on the bus and bypassed your friends to sit by yourself. They all exchange looks, knowing you to normally match their hyperness and excitement. The seat Vicky was saving for you remained empty; she was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement, and Alexia expected the same behavior out of you. Today, though, you just sunk into an empty row and pulled out your phone.

While Alexia watched you carefully from the front of the bus, you were too busy to notice. You were crafting a text to your therapist, hoping for her to give you some advice for the plane ride. There were only around two hours until take off, and you could feel your nerves grow and grow as you neared the airport.

All through security, the whole way to the gate, and in line to board the plane, you were so quiet and so unlike yourself. It drew the attention of several of your teammates, in fact, until Irene appeared next to you, a very motherly worry on her face.

“Are you alright? You’ve been acting strange today. You haven’t tried to trip Mapi even once.” Irene asked quietly. The teammates near you in line grew a bit quieter, curious as to what your issue was.

Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, and still not feeling particularly like sharing the issue, you just shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well. Just tired.” You lied, conveniently yawning just after you finished talking. It was an anxiety thing, actually, a weird thing you did more often when you were anxious. Of course, no one else knew that.

They all relaxed slightly at your response, especially Alexia, confident that they’d discovered the problem, and it wasn’t much to worry about. As you stepped onto the plane, though, you knew the opposite to be true. There was plenty to be worried about.

“Chica?” Pina asked, realizing you hadn’t been listening to her long, very drawn out story of the mischief her and her sister had gotten into during her last visit.

You hummed quietly, eyes fixed out the window. As a general rule, you tried not to look out the window when you were in the air. It never made you feel anything but panic. You were running out of coping mechanisms that worked, though, and in a last ditch effort to avoid a complete panic attack, you looked out the window. You thought, maybe, it would reassure you to see the plane moving steadily through the air.

It didn’t. Instead, you felt your stomach plummet, to what felt like the earth underneath you. The ground was so very far away. It was likely your imagination, but it felt as though the plane dropped slightly, and you clutched at the arms of your seat, sitting back rigidly in your chair. Eyes shut, inhaling as much as you could through your nose, and out through your mouth.

You felt Claudia’s hand tapping on yours, vaguely heard her voice repeating your name. Pina was the last of your worries, though, and any will you had remaining to keep your embarrassing fear a secret had flown out the window, along with the last of your composure. You were trapped in your head, anxiety swirling around until you couldn’t tell up from down, didn’t know anything except for the fact that you were terrified.

Claudia looked around in panic, having watched you go from somewhat stressed to completely out of it in just a few seconds. She had been trying to distract you from whatever had you acting so odd, but it clearly hadn’t worked. She caught Mapi’s eye, who was sitting next to Ingrid across the aisle. The centerback immediately sat up at the concerned look on the forward’s face.

Gently, Mapi shifted Ingrid’s head off her shoulder where it was resting as the Norwegian slept, and leaned across the aisle, towards Claudia.

“You okay, Pina?” Mapi inquired, resting a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. She didn’t really spare you a glance, assuming that you were out cold, as you normally were on flights.

“Something is wrong, I don’t know what happened.” Claudia said quietly, nodding her head over to you. Mapi looked closer, noticing for the first time how labored your breathing was, how tight your eyes were shut, how hard you gripped the arms of your seat. She’d never seen you like this before, and it scared her.

“Up, Pina.” The Spaniard instructed, sliding into the younger girl’s seat. Pina took Mapi’s old seat, watching anxiously as the older woman placed a hand on your arm.

“Cariño?” Mapi wondered quietly. Your eyes remained shut, your head shaking side to side just slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Maybe you should have told your teammates about your fear of flying. If not right at the beginning, definitely before you tried to take this painfully long flight unmedicated. Now, it was too late. You’d lost completely the ability to speak, not even really able to focus fully on Mapi talking to you. You were stuck, completely out of your depth and with no way to calm yourself down. The only thing that could help was to be safely back on solid ground, and there was simply no way to make that happen right now.

Before Mapi could say another word, a hand fell on her shoulder, tapping impatiently. She looked up, finding her captain looking down at her with a frown on her face.

“Mapi, go back to your seat. You can’t switch seats on an airplane.” Alexia whisper-yelled, clearly grumpy at having to get out of her seat to scold her friend. Surely, she’d made that rule up, but she didn’t have it in her to deal with your and Mapi’s antics, especially not on such a long flight.

Mapi looked at her nervously, though, gesturing back towards you. “Something’s wrong.”

Almost instantly after looking at you, Alexia’s face went from grumpy to dead serious, able to recognize that you were very much not okay. “Up, Mapi.” Alexia instructed, grabbing the defender's arm and hauling her out of her seat. Mapi grumbled indignantly, before she did the same thing to Pina, sending the young forward back to the captain’s empty seat.

Sitting down beside you, your captain tried not to panic herself at the state you were in.

Alexia had seen you upset before, of course she had. Once, you’d knocked on her door in tears after reading some particularly cruel comments about yourself online. Another time, she’d come over to invite you to dinner only to find you curled up on the couch, desperately missing home. When Mapi took her teasing too far, or you sustained even a minor knock during a match, Alexia was always right there to pick you up and help you dust yourself off. She was reliable, she was safe, and she knew how to help you.

Except now, she didn’t. She called your name a few times, but you didn’t react.

For your part, you had no idea who was sitting next to you. It was all you could do to stay planted in your seat, and not go charging up the aisle and into the cockpit to beg the pilot to land. Logically, you knew how ridiculous that was, but your ability to be logical was slipping. Quickly.

Your lungs burned as you hyperventilated, chest pounding and ears ringing. Your body was begging for some kind of relief, anything to get your nervous system to stop overworking itself, even for just a minute. You needed help, you realized. Help you couldn’t give yourself. Forcing your eyes open, you looked to where Pina had been sitting, or had that been Mapi? Either way, you found Alexia staring back at you, her lips moving, but no sound reaching your ears.

“Chiqui, what are you feeling? Are you sick?” Alexia asked gently, reaching across the divider to pull your hand into hers. It was clammy and shaking in her grip, only reinforcing Alexia’s assumption that you were ill. “It’s okay if you feel unwell, just tell me. I can try to help.”

Never in your life had you regretted something as much as you regretted not telling Alexia about your anxiety. Not only did she not know what the issue was, but even if you communicated it to her, you thought it to be terribly unlikely that she’d be able to help at all.

“Come on, talk to me.” Alexia encouraged. If you’d had the ability to do so, you would have shouted at her that you couldn’t talk, obviously. You couldn’t even breathe. Instead, you dug your nails into the palm of your free hand, and forced yourself to suck in a breath.

“Not sick. Anxiety.” You choked out. There was terror written in your voice, so much so that Alexia felt a sharp pang of fear go through her. Just then, the aircraft jolted slightly. It could barely be called turbulence, so minimal that most of the people around you hadn’t even blinked. Your grip had tightened painfully around Alexia’s hand, and understanding dawned across her face.

That was all she needed, and thank god, because you were seconds away from asking the flight attendant for a parachute and taking matters into your own hands.

“Okay, okay. I’ve got you.” Alexia brought your shaky palm to her chest, pressing it right over her heart, before she took a ridiculously exaggerated breath. “Like that, big breath. All you have to do is think about breathing.”

You tried, inhaling and exhaling so quickly you weren’t even sure any oxygen had entered your lungs. Your vision started to go dark around the edges, and you let out a dry sob, clutching even tighter to Alexia’s hand.

“No, no, you’re okay. Stay here with me.” Alexia soothed. She let your hand fall from her chest, instead shoving the armrest in between you both up and out of the way. Scooting closer, she pulled you into her arms and squeezed.

At first, it was suffocating. You were in a plane, an enclosed space to begin with, and you didn’t need that space shrinking any more. You squirmed, trying to escape her grasp, but Alexia held tighter.

“I’ve got you. Focus on the pressure of my arms around you, feel me breathe. Try to match it. You’re okay, cariño. Everything is okay. ”

Not really by choice, your body collapsed against your captain, and you tried to do as she’d instructed. You focused on her, the tight hold she had on you. It felt safe, if you thought about it hard enough.

Safe, not suffocating.

Her chin rested on your head, her hand rubbing up and down your arm. You could feel her every breath with the way she was holding you, and unconsciously, you began to match it.

You gasped in breath after breath in time with the rise and fall of Alexia’s chest. Slower, slower, and slower still until your lungs no longer burned.

In and out. In and out.

Until your fingers and toes stopped tingling, and your muscles began to relax.

Your ears stopped ringing, and you could hear again. The white noise of the plane engine was loud, but you could still hear the crinkle of Irene’s water bottle, and a low voice from somewhere in front of you asking if everything was okay.

Most of all, you could hear Alexia. Still held securely in her arms, she kept up a running dialogue, not allowing herself to fall silent for even a second.

“There you go, nena. You’re going so well. We’re almost there, and we’ll be off this plane, and everything will be okay. You’re safe, you’re okay. Everything is okay.”

It was only now that you’d calmed down a bit more that you could process the past few minutes, or however long the period of time you’d panicked had been. Alexia had known exactly what to do, almost as if she was going through a list in her mind.

She’d tried to get you to listen to her, to breathe. When that hadn’t worked, she’d put pressure around you, hugging you tightly even as you resisted for a moment. She’d stayed calm herself, keeping her breathing and her voice steady. She’d know just what to say, just what to do, and you’d never been more glad for anything in your entire life.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away from her slightly so you could reach for your water. Alexia beat you to it, unscrewing the cap and handing you the bottle, though you were still shaking slightly. You chugged a few sips, feeling your face grow redder and redder as you realized how much of a scene you’d probably caused.

“Of course.” Alexia replied, taking the bottle once you were done and tucking it back into your bag. She draped an arm across your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. And while you were embarrassed, there wasn’t much fight left in you to shake her off, and honestly, you still really needed a hug.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, this time a stray tear sliding down your cheek. You wiped it away impatiently, wishing that Mapi would stop staring at you from across the aisle, and that Irene would stop turning around to check on you.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.” Alexia dismissed. “You had no control over that happening. It just happens sometimes.”

“Do you have them too?” You wondered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Alexia shook her head, and you felt yourself blush harder. Of course she didn’t.

“No, my sister does though. And a few teammates.”

That last part surprised you. “Really? Teammates?”

“Mhm. Even footballers can have anxiety, cari.” Alexia chuckled, though she frowned when you didn’t laugh with her. “What happened today?”

You found that you couldn’t look her in the eye, shifting out from under her arm and sinking down in your seat. “Panic attack.”

You didn’t need to be looking at her to know that she was giving you a look. “I know that. Why did it happen today? I didn’t even know you had panic attacks.”

Swallowing roughly, you continued to stare at the seat in front of you. “I ran out of my medicine. I normally take it before flights.”

Alexia blinked at you. “Before every flight? And you never told me?”

You could hear the hurt in her tone; she’d gone out of her way to be there for you, to be someone you could trust, and now she felt like she’d failed.

“I wanted to tell you, Ale, I just… I was embarrassed. I shouldn’t be like this, especially not about flying. It’s part of our job. Normally, I have it handled.”

Alexia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Cariño, you don’t need to be embarrassed about this. It’s not your fault, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I wish you’d told me, because you don’t have to handle this all on your own.”

“I know, I know.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Alexia shook her head again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t be sorry, please. Just know I’m here.”

You nodded, letting your head rest on your captain’s shoulder. You felt better, definitely, but anxiety still twisted in your stomach. It was better, though, because you knew you weren’t alone. You were never alone with this team, and never alone with Ale around.

You’d be reminded of this, repeatedly, on the remaining flights around the US. When Mapi threw M&Ms at you across the aisle, trying to see how many you could catch in your mouth. When Irene bought you a stress ball, and Pina made a list of movies she thought you should watch. And when Alexia held your hand through take off and landing, sticking close by you until you were safely back on the ground in Barcelona. A plane ride and your anxiety had nothing on the determination of your captain, and you should have never doubted that.

this is short and i most certainly despise it but it's been a while since i've posted a fic so :) i hope you enjoy and aren't disappointed!

#barcelona femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #barça femeni x reader

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ducktoo · 1 month ago

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Getaway

Jo Yuri x M!Reader

Note: here’s to the hamster girl that got the big bag from the squid 🫶

It started with excitement. A group chat buzzing with memes about sunsets over the ocean, lists of must-try cruise activities, and an unhealthy number of debates over how many swimsuits one person actually needs. This was supposed to be the trip—five days of relaxation, laughter, and memories with your closest friends.

Then the excuses started rolling in.

First, it was Jihun. “Sorry, man, work’s piling up. I can’t take the time off.” His message was punctuated with a sad face emoji, as if that would soften the blow.

Next, Minji dropped out, claiming some vague “family emergency.” You tried to sympathize until you saw her Instagram story of her at a café with her dog, captioned Much-needed chill day.

By the time Seungmin admitted he “forgot” about his cousin’s wedding, you were already resigned to your fate. One by one, your friends bailed, leaving you holding the metaphorical bag—and the very literal cruise ticket.

Cancelling wasn’t an option. Non-refundable, non-exchangeable, non-everything, because you’d been too cheap to spring for the insurance. You’d planned for the luxury cabin, imagining yourself waking up to ocean views and feeling like royalty with your close friends. But with everyone else backing out, your budget evaporated faster than the group chat notifications.

Which led to this: you, booking a shared cabin with a stranger. It was either that or throw away the money you didn’t have to lose.

“You’ll be fine,” you told yourself as you stared at the confirmation email. “It’s just five days. How bad could it be?”

Yuri tugged the strap of her duffel bag higher on her shoulder, sighing as she handed over her cruise ticket at the check-in counter. She was supposed to be here with her family—her parents, her older sister—but life had a way of throwing curveballs.

Her sister had come down with the flu two days before the trip. Nothing too serious, but enough that her parents decided to stay home to take care of her. “You should still go,” her mother had insisted. “We already paid for your ticket. Think of it as a break.”

Yuri didn’t argue. A break sounded… necessary.

After Squid Game Season 2 aired, her world had been flipped upside down. Fame was exhilarating, sure, but it was also overwhelming. Endless interviews, promotional events, fans recognizing her on the street. It felt like she was constantly on, with no time to just breathe.

She’d thought about cancelling. Spending five days alone on a cruise ship wasn’t exactly her idea of fun. But her mother’s words lingered: You need a break, Yuri. Go.

So here she was, trying to convince herself that five days of ocean views and buffet dinners could somehow make her feel like herself again.

The only catch? She’d been bumped to a shared cabin because of a last-minute shuffle in bookings. “It’ll be fine,” the cruise rep had told her over the phone. “It’s just a roommate. You’ll hardly notice them.”

Yuri rolled her eyes at the memory. Hardly notice them?

Yeah, right.

If this was anything like her recent luck, her roommate would either be a chatterbox who didn’t know the meaning of personal space or some fan who wouldn’t stop asking about the show.

She stepped into the tiny cabin, already dreading the next five days.

The cruise ship looms large in the harbor, its pristine white exterior gleaming under the midday sun. You pause for a moment, clutching your duffel bag, letting the salty breeze wash over you. The idea of going on this cruise solo still feels surreal, but with all your friends bailing at the last minute, you weren’t about to let the ticket—and your deposit—go to waste.

The fact that you’d been downgraded to a shared cabin? Well, that was a bitter pill you were still swallowing.

Cabin 512A. The number taunts you as you make your way down the narrow, carpeted hallways.

The luggage wheels behind you squeak, the only sound in the otherwise quiet corridor. You grip the keycard tightly, your heart thumping faster than it should. Sharing a cabin with a stranger was bound to be awkward, but you’d convinced yourself it couldn’t be that bad.

The door beeps as you slide the keycard, and you step inside. It’s… snug. Two single beds crammed into a space that feels more like a walk-in closet with delusions of grandeur. One bed is already claimed, judging by the neatly folded hoodie and headphones resting on it.

You hear a faint sound—a soft hum—from the bathroom. Your brows knit together. It’s familiar. Too familiar.

The door creaks open before you can dwell on it further, and your new cabinmate steps out. She’s small, dressed in an oversized sweater and denim shorts, her hair casually tied up. For a moment, her gaze locks with yours, her eyes wide and questioning.

“UH…hi,” she says, her voice soft but steady. “You must be my roommate.”

You nod, but you’re not really listening. Your brain is short-circuiting, trying to process what you’re seeing.

Jo Yuri.

Not just your cabinmate—Jo Yuri, the breakout star from Squid Game Season 2. You’d binge-watched the entire season when it came out a few months ago, captivated by her performance. She played one of the more appealing characters: the underdog who managed to power through the entirety of the season. People online had been calling her the “puppy of the season.”

And now, she’s standing in front of you, looking more ordinary than you ever thought possible. No makeup, no stylists, just a girl with messy hair and an easy smile.

“Uh… yeah,” you finally manage, trying to play it cool. “That’s me. Roommate. Hi.”

She chuckles, her smile widening. “You okay there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shake your head quickly, attempting to compose yourself. “No, no. It’s just… you look really familiar.”

Her expression shifts slightly, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. “Ah,” she says, her tone light but guarded. “You’ve seen it?”

You don’t need her to elaborate. “Squid Game?” you ask, careful to keep your voice neutral.

“Yeah.” She shrugs, leaning casually against the wall. “That’d do it.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you scramble to fill it. “You were great in it,” you blurt out, cringing internally at how fanboy-ish you sound. “Like, really great. One of the best parts of the season.”

Her lips quirk into a smile, but there’s a hint of weariness in it. “Thanks. Appreciate that.”

You sense there’s more she’s not saying, but you don’t push. Instead, you gesture to your bed. “Uh, mind if I unpack?”

“Go for it,” she says, stepping aside.

The awkwardness lingers as you start unpacking, but you catch her glancing at you a couple of times, like she’s sizing you up. It’s weird—sharing a room with someone who’s been on your screen, who people have written essays and theories about online.

Finally, she breaks the silence. “So… what made you come on this cruise?”

You hesitate, debating how much to share. “Friends bailed,” you admit with a shrug. “Didn’t want to waste the ticket. What about you?”

She snorts, perching on the edge of her bed. “Needed a break. Too many people. Too much noise.”

“Isn’t that ironic?” you tease, surprising yourself with your boldness. “Considering, you know… you.”

Her laugh is light, genuine. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

The conversation eases after that, flowing like a gentle current. You don’t mention Squid Game again, and she doesn’t bring it up either. Instead, you talk about the ship, the itinerary, and the overly enthusiastic cruise director you’d both spotted during boarding.

But in the back of your mind, you’re still reeling. Jo Yuri, in the flesh. And somehow, you’re supposed to survive five days of sharing a cabin with her without making a complete fool of yourself.

You’re still reeling from the whole “roommate with a stranger” situation when Yuri suggests exploring the ship. It feels like the right thing to do—anything to avoid sitting in the cabin together, surrounded by the thick air of awkward silence.

“Uh… sure,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Lead the way?”

Yuri raises an eyebrow at you, her expression somewhere between amused and unimpressed. “You’re really going to make me decide everything, huh?”

“No, no, I just—uh—thought maybe you… had a plan,” you mumble, stumbling over your words.

Her lips twitch into a small smirk. “Relax, I’m not gonna bite.”

You try, you really do, but relaxing is easier said than done when you’re walking shoulder to shoulder with someone like Jo Yuri. She’s effortlessly cool, with her confident stride and casual yet chic outfit that screams “I’m too cool for this, but I’m here anyway.” Meanwhile, you feel like a bundle of frayed nerves, overthinking every step and every word.

The first stop is the promenade deck. It’s lined with shops selling overpriced souvenirs, jewellery, and random knick-knacks you definitely don’t need.

“Look at this,” Yuri says, holding up a sparkly snow globe with a tiny replica of the ship inside. “A whole fifteen dollars for something that’s going to collect dust on a shelf.”

You laugh nervously, unsure if you’re supposed to agree or argue. “Yeah, it’s, uh… it’s definitely not worth it.”

She narrows her eyes at you, clearly catching on to your awkward vibe. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You blink, feeling your ears heat up. “I talk! I just… don’t want to say anything dumb.”

Yuri tilts her head, studying you for a moment. Then, to your surprise, she bursts out laughing. It’s not mocking��more like she finds your honesty refreshing. “You’re not as scary as you look.”

“I don’t look scary,” you protest, though your voice comes out weaker than you’d like.

“Mm, debatable,” she teases, nudging your arm.

You’re about to respond when the two of you pass by a small café on the deck. The smell of fresh pastries wafts out, and Yuri stops abruptly, sniffing the air like a cartoon character.

“Okay, we’re going in,” she declares.

Before you can protest, she grabs your wrist and pulls you inside. The café is cozy, with warm lighting and a display case full of pastries that look almost too good to eat. Yuri walks up to the counter, her eyes scanning the options with laser focus.

“Two croissants,” she says, turning to you. “And you’re paying.”

“What? Why?” you stammer, fumbling for your wallet.

“Because I’m cute and you’re trying to make a good first impression,” she says, deadpan, though her eyes twinkle with mischief.

You have no comeback for that, so you hand over the money and follow her to a small table by the window.

Yuri takes a bite of her croissant and lets out a satisfied hum. “Okay, I’ll admit it. This is worth the overpriced cruise food.”

You nibble on yours, trying to act casual. “Yeah, it’s, uh… not bad.”

After finishing your snacks, the two of you wander out onto the open deck. The sea stretches endlessly in every direction, the horizon blending seamlessly with the sky. The sound of waves and the salty breeze are oddly calming.

“So,” Yuri says, breaking the silence. “What’s the first thing you wanna do tomorrow?”

You glance at her, surprised she’s asking. “Uh… I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be polite!”

“Polite is boring,” she says with a smirk. “But fine. How about karaoke? I saw a lounge near the theatre earlier.”

You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. “Karaoke? Like… singing?”

“No, like interpretive dance,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Yes, singing. Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” you lie, though the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of her is already giving you secondhanded anxiety.

“Good,” she says, her grin widening. “Because I’m definitely dragging you tomorrow.”

You wake up to the sound of waves gently lapping against the ship and faint footsteps outside the cabin. It takes a moment for you to remember where you are—and who you’re sharing the space with.

Rolling over, you see Yuri still fast asleep, her face buried in the pillow and her hair a chaotic mess. It’s oddly endearing, watching her like this, but you quickly snap out of it before she wakes up and catches you staring.

Not wanting to linger in the tiny cabin, you freshen up quietly and head to the deck to catch the sunrise. You don’t expect Yuri to join you, but just as the horizon starts to blush with orange and pink, you hear her voice.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asks, leaning on the railing beside you, still in her oversized hoodie. Her hair is slightly more presentable now, but you notice a faint crease on her cheek from the pillow.

“Something like that,” you reply, offering her a small smile.

For a while, the two of you stand there in silence, the morning air crisp and salty. The awkwardness from yesterday lingers faintly, but it feels more like background noise now, drowned out by the tranquillity of the moment.

“I’m starving,” she finally says, breaking the quiet.

You laugh. “I think they’re serving breakfast already. Want to head down?”

She nods, and the two of you make your way to the dining hall. It’s bustling but not chaotic, and you manage to snag a table near the window. Yuri piles her plate with fruit, eggs, and enough toast to feed a small village.

“Do you always eat this much in the morning?” you tease, gesturing to her plate.

She narrows her eyes at you, mock offense dripping from her tone. “I’m stocking up for the day. Don’t judge me.”

You chuckle and take a bite of your food, the atmosphere between you two finally starting to loosen.

After breakfast, the day unfolds naturally. You both decide to explore the ship, starting with the pool deck. The sun is warm, the water glistening, and you’re surprised to find how easy it is to talk to Yuri now.

“I can’t believe how big this place is,” she says, spinning in place to take it all in.

“Yeah, it’s like a floating city,” you agree.

She grins at you. “Still down for the karaoke? I’m kind of amazing at karaoke.”

“Oh really? Amazing, huh?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t believe me?” she challenges, her tone playful.

“Surely someone here among us is not a singer, huh.”

The two of you continue wandering, checking out the shops, the gym, and even a small art gallery tucked away on one of the lower decks. Yuri lingers in front of a painting of a ship caught in a storm, her expression thoughtful.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, curious.

She shrugs but doesn’t look away from the painting. “I was just thinking… it’s crazy how people used to travel like this all the time, not knowing if they’d make it.”

“That’s kind of a downer,” you joke lightly, trying to break the mood.

She laughs softly and nudges your arm. “Sorry, I get weird sometimes. Let’s go find that karaoke bar.”

By the time evening rolls around, you’re both sitting in the lounge, sipping on mocktails with tiny umbrellas in them. Yuri sips hers thoughtfully, the sunset casting a golden glow over her face.

“I’m glad I didn’t cancel this trip,” she admits, almost to herself.

You glance at her, surprised. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

She shrugs, but there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s not so bad having a decent person to share it with.”

For a moment, you’re caught off guard, unsure how to respond. But then you see the way her eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, and you realize she’s being genuine.

“Yeah,” you say softly, feeling the awkward tension between you two finally dissolve. “It’s not so bad.”

As the night stretches on, the ship seems to come alive with laughter and music, and you and Yuri find yourselves in the karaoke bar after all. She picks an upbeat song you don’t know but belts it out like a pro, her confidence infectious.

When she finishes, breathless and laughing, you can’t help but clap louder than anyone else in the room. She bows dramatically, blowing you a playful kiss before hopping off the stage.

“Your turn,” she says, sliding into the seat next to you.

“Oh hell no…” you protest, shaking your head.

“Too bad,” she replies, grabbing your arm and dragging you up to the stage. “We’re doing a duet. Here's a private lesson with a professional.”

And just like that, day two ends with the two of you laughing so hard you can barely breathe, the awkwardness from yesterday now nothing more than a distant memory.

Day three begins with a comfortable silence between you and Yuri as you both sip your morning coffee on the balcony. By now, you’ve grown accustomed to her quirks: the way she furrows her brows when she’s deep in thought, how she adds a ridiculous amount of sugar to her coffee, and how she taps her nails rhythmically on the table when she’s bored.

“You’re staring,” Yuri says without looking up from her phone, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“Am not,” you reply quickly, turning your gaze to the horizon. The sun is already high, and the shimmering ocean stretches endlessly.

After breakfast, the ship announces its arrival at a nearby island, and Yuri excitedly suggests signing up for the snorkelling excursion. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing,” she says, practically bouncing in place.

You agree, not entirely for the snorkelling but because her enthusiasm is contagious.

The excursion is a dream. The guides take you to a secluded reef with crystal-clear waters teeming with marine life. As you put on your gear and dive in, the world beneath the waves feels magical. Schools of vibrant fish dart around coral formations, and the water is so clear you can see every detail.

At one point, Yuri taps your shoulder underwater and gestures wildly to a sea turtle gliding gracefully past. You laugh—or at least try to, but it comes out as a muffled gurgle. Yuri seems to find this hilarious, and even with her snorkel on, you can tell she’s grinning.

When you resurface, she flicks water at you playfully. “Did you see how close it was?!”

“I did,” you reply, trying to shake the water out of your hair. “But you nearly scared it off with your flailing.”

“I was pointing, not flailing,” she retorts, sticking her tongue out.

The day ends with a quiet dinner back on the ship. You both opt for a small, cozy restaurant instead of the bustling buffet. Over plates of grilled seafood and pasta, Yuri shares more about her life—her dreams, her fears, and the little things that make her who she is.

“You know,” she says, twirling her fork absentmindedly, “I didn’t expect to actually enjoy this trip. I thought it’d be awkward sharing a room with a stranger, but… it’s been nice.”

Her words catch you off guard, but you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it has.”

By day four, you and Yuri have become a dynamic duo. It’s no longer just about sharing a cabin—it’s about sharing the entire experience.

The morning starts with a group yoga class on the deck. Yuri insists on trying it, claiming it’ll be “relaxing.” You’re skeptical, especially when you realize how uncoordinated you are compared to her.

“Downward dog,” the instructor calls out.

You glance at Yuri, who’s already in perfect form, her movements graceful and fluid. Meanwhile, you’re struggling not to topple over.

“Need help?” she whispers, barely holding back her laughter.

“I’m f-fine,” you mutter through gritted teeth, your arms trembling. Don't even mention the fact that your back cracks with every slight movement.

Suffice to say, Yuri had a lot of fun holding her laugh when glancing at you.

After yoga, the two of you grab smoothies from the ship’s café and spend the rest of the morning lounging by the pool. Yuri pulls out a book she brought along, while you scroll through your phone. Every so often, she nudges you with her foot, pointing out something funny in her book or making a sarcastic comment about the poolside drama happening around you.

In the afternoon, the ship hosts a trivia competition. Yuri’s eyes light up when she hears about it, and she drags you to the event.

“You’re good at trivia, right?” she asks.

“Uhh…Define ‘good,’” you reply, already regretting your life choices.

The game is chaotic, with questions ranging from history to pop culture. Yuri surprises you with her knowledge of obscure facts—she nails the question about 18th-century composers but completely blanks when asked about the capital of Switzerland.

“It’s Zurich, right?” she whispers to you.

“No, it’s Bern,” you reply, smirking.

She glares at you, whispering back, “If you’re wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Despite a few missteps, you manage to place second. Yuri proudly dons the sailor hat prize and refuses to take it off for the rest of the day.

That evening, you attend the ship’s formal dinner. Yuri, dressed in a sleek black dress, turns heads as she walks into the dining hall. You’re about to compliment her, but she beats you to it.

“You clean up nicely,” she says, eyeing your outfit.

“So do you,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.

The night ends with the two of you sitting on the deck, watching the stars. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the sound of waves and the occasional laughter of other passengers.

“This trip’s going to feel too short,” Yuri says softly, her gaze fixed on the sky.

You don’t respond immediately, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. Instead, you simply sit there, hoping the moment will stretch just a little longer.

The final day arrives with a bittersweet air. Breakfast feels quieter, and even Yuri’s usual sarcastic remarks are softer, almost hesitant.

“We should make the most of today,” she says, her voice determined but tinged with sadness.

And so, you do.

The two of you spend the morning doing all the things you hadn’t tried yet—arcade games, mini-golf, and even a cheesy photo booth where you both don silly props for the camera.

“Smile!” Yuri says, throwing her arm around your shoulder and holding up a fake moustache.

The resulting photo is ridiculous, but it’s one you know you’ll treasure.

In the afternoon, the ship docks at another island, and you both decide to go for a casual hike along the coast. The trail is quiet, with stunning views of the ocean. At one point, Yuri stops to take a photo, the wind catching her hair just right.

“Send me that one,” you say, pretending to be casual.

“Why? Planning to frame it?” she teases, but her cheeks turn pink.

The final evening arrives too soon. The ship hosts a farewell party, and the two of you join the crowd on the deck, dancing to live music. Yuri’s laughter is infectious as she spins you around, her energy lighting up the night.

And with the ship nears the port, reality sets in. The two of you return to your cabin to pack, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, as you stand by the railing one last time, Yuri hands you a folded piece of paper.

“In case we don’t run into each other again,” she says, her voice quiet.

You unfold it to find her phone number.

“Yuri—”

“Don’t say anything cheesy,” she interrupts, though her smile is soft.

When the ship finally docks and you part ways, you can’t help but feel like this is only the beginning of something bigger. But for now, you're contented with the short getaway with your lucky cabinmate, already reminiscing about it as you look at her back slowly disappearing to the crowd.

And hopefully, she enjoyed your company as much as she enjoyed yours.

#jo yuri #yuri izone #yuri fluff #izone fluff #squid game #squid game jun hee #junhee #x reader #kpop x reader

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but-a-humble-goon · 2 months ago

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I like to think Cass just straight up abducts Stephanie off the streets sometimes for tiny things. She'll be waiting for the bus or something by herself and Batgirl drops down on a grapple line, surprise cape glomps her from above and snatches her up onto a nearby gargoyle to be like "how do I use adblock?" or sometimes she wants Steph to try this new smoothie flavor she just discovered. At first Stephanie protested but as with a lot of things that come with being Batgirl's best friend she's more or less resigned to her fate at this point.

#cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #stephanie brown #spoiler #robin #batgirl #dc #dcu #comics

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w1w2 · 19 days ago

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Behind the Scenes

Im Nayeon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 4k

Synopsis: Y/N, a rising model finally gets a break in her busy schedule to visit her girlfriend, Nayeon, on the set of TWICE's latest comeback.

Requested by Anon

Notes: Anon, I'm sorry it took so long, are you still here? 😭

Happy Valentines Day Babes! 💋

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Y/N adjusted the hood of her oversized sweater, pulling it up just enough to shield her face from any curious glances. The set of TWICE’s latest comeback shoot was buzzing with activity, staff members scurried around adjusting lights, checking cameras, and coordinating outfits. The air was filled with the hum of excitement, the kind that always surrounded a group as big as TWICE preparing for another stunning comeback.

Slipping past a few crew members, Y/N did her best to blend in, keeping her steps light and head slightly down. But, of course, her efforts were in vain.

“Wait a minute…” a voice murmured behind her.

Y/N barely had time to react before she felt a familiar arm drape itself over her shoulder. She turned her head slightly, only to be met with Jeongyeon’s smirking face.

“Well, well, well… Look who decided to drop by,” Jeongyeon teased, her voice playful but just loud enough to turn a few heads.

Momo, standing a few feet away, gasped dramatically. “Is that Y/N, the famous model? What a rare sighting!”

Y/N groaned, already regretting not wearing a disguise. “Shh! You’re gonna blow my cover,” she whispered urgently, swatting at Jeongyeon’s arm.

Jeongyeon chuckled, leaning in conspiratorially. “You do realize that half the staff already saw you, right?”

Y/N sighed, resigning herself to her fate. “Well, so much for a sneaky entrance.”

Before she could even attempt to hide again, a few other TWICE members caught sight of her. Sana let out an excited squeal, rushing over to link arms with her. Dahyun and Chaeyoung soon followed, grinning ear to ear.

“Look who’s here to support her girlfriend,” Jihyo teased, giving Y/N a knowing look.

Y/N laughed, playfully nudging her. “What, am I not allowed to visit my favorite girls?”

“You mean one favorite girl,” Sana corrected with a wink.

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, she felt something, a shift in the air, a presence she could recognize anywhere. Her gaze instinctively drifted toward the main stage, where Nayeon was in the middle of shooting her solo scene.

Dressed in a sleek yet playful outfit, Nayeon radiated confidence as she moved effortlessly with the music. Her expressions shifted flawlessly between alluring and cheerful, and Y/N found herself completely captivated.

“She’s mesmerizing, huh?” Jihyo whispered beside her.

Y/N didn’t even attempt to deny it. “Always.”

Just then, Nayeon turned slightly, her gaze sweeping over the set and for a brief second, their eyes met. Y/N swore she saw the faintest flicker of surprise cross Nayeon’s face before it melted into something softer, something that made Y/N’s heart race.

But before Nayeon could react, the director called for another take, pulling her focus back.

Y/N leaned against a nearby equipment case, arms crossed, as she continued watching Nayeon perform. She had been in this position countless times before, whether at concerts, fan events, or late-night rehearsals, but it never got old. No matter how many times she saw Nayeon on stage, that familiar rush of admiration always hit her like a tidal wave.

It was mesmerizing, the way Nayeon commanded attention without even trying. The effortless charm, the way she could shift from playful to breathtakingly elegant in a heartbeat, was something only she could pull off. She was a natural performer, born to be under the spotlight.

Y/N’s eyes traced every movement, how Nayeon twirled with ease, her hair catching the light in soft waves, how her expression morphed from sultry confidence to bright-eyed warmth within seconds. It was hypnotic, and Y/N found herself utterly entranced.

She wasn’t the only one.

The staff, the backup dancers, even the members who had seen her perform a million times before, all eyes were locked on her. It wasn’t just beauty. It was presence. That intangible glow that made Nayeon stand out, no matter the setting.

But Y/N knew it wasn’t just for the cameras.

Between takes, subtle as a whisper, Nayeon’s gaze flickered toward her, a millisecond of acknowledgment hidden beneath her idol façade. It was quick, but Y/N caught it, every time. Like a silent confirmation. I see you. You’re here.

“She’s unreal,” Y/N murmured under her breath, not even realizing she had spoken out loud.

A knowing chuckle came from beside her. “What was that?”

Y/N blinked, turning her head just in time to see Jihyo’s smirk.

“Huh? Nothing!”

Momo, who had been leaning in on the conversation, snickered. “Oh, sure. It’s not like we just caught you staring at her like she hung the stars in the sky.”

“I—” Y/N started, but before she could finish, Sana let out a dramatic sigh, clasping her hands together.

“It’s so romantic, isn’t it?” she swooned, nudging Dahyun. “The way Y/N looks at Nayeon, like she’s the only person in the world…”

Dahyun, ever the instigator, feigned wiping away a tear. “True love.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. “Oh my God, you guys are impossible.”

“Face it, Y/N,” Jihyo added, crossing her arms. “You’ve been completely mesmerized since you got here.”

Y/N tried to play it cool, but the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her. She shrugged with forced nonchalance. “I mean… can you blame me? She is the most beautiful person here.”

That statement, said with such sincerity, earned her a round of teasing “oohs” and knowing grins from the girls.

“Hopeless,” Jeongyeon muttered with a shake of her head, though the amused glint in her eyes gave her away.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the small grin tugging at her lips was impossible to hide.

On stage, Nayeon had just finished her take, brushing loose strands of hair from her face as the director gave her a few notes. But instead of immediately stepping back to check the footage, she turned, eyes sweeping over the set, searching.

And then she found her.

Y/N felt her breath hitch as Nayeon’s gaze landed on her, locking in place. This wasn’t the quick, fleeting glance from earlier. This was deliberate. Lingering.

The warmth in Nayeon’s expression softened even further, her lips twitching in a way that said, I caught you staring.

Y/N swallowed, torn between playing it off and giving in to the moment.

Nayeon raised an eyebrow, the smallest tilt of her head teasing, Enjoying the view?

Y/N smirked and lifted a hand, forming a tiny heart with her fingers.

For a moment, it looked like Nayeon was going to laugh, but she bit her lip, fighting the smile that threatened to break her composed image. With one last glance, she turned back to the director, pretending to focus on the monitor.

Beside her, Jihyo let out an exaggerated groan. “Ugh. You two are so obvious.”

Momo mimicked gagging. “Disgustingly cute. I’m gonna need a break.”

Y/N simply laughed, eyes never leaving Nayeon. “And yet, she still makes it feel like it’s just us in the room.”

The second the director called for a break, Nayeon wasted no time. One moment, she was nodding along to feedback from the staff, and the next, she was running toward Y/N, her long strides full of purpose.

Y/N barely had a second to react before she was hit with the full force of Nayeon’s excitement. With a squeal, Nayeon threw herself into Y/N’s arms, wrapping her up in a tight hug that nearly knocked the breath out of her. Y/N stumbled back a step, but her hands instinctively found Nayeon’s waist, steadying both of them as warmth bloomed in her chest.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she tightened her hold, relishing the way Nayeon clung to her like she had been waiting for this moment all day. "Well, someone is excited to see me," Y/N teased, her voice laced with amusement.

Nayeon scoffed against her shoulder, her voice muffled. "Shut up."

Y/N smirked, tilting her head slightly. "Miss me, bunny?"

At that, Nayeon finally pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her arms still looped tightly around her waist. She narrowed her eyes as if pretending to be unimpressed, but the slight pout of her lips and the way her fingers curled into Y/N’s sweater told a different story.

"Nope," she lied, lifting her chin slightly in faux defiance.

Y/N quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? So if I let go right now, you wouldn’t care?"

For a split second, Nayeon hesitated, just enough to give herself away. Then, as if realizing she had been caught, she scoffed, tightening her grip even further. "Don’t you dare."

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, completely enamored by her. "I’d never," she reassured, running her hands up and down Nayeon’s back in slow, soothing motions.

Their little bubble of affection, however, was promptly shattered by the sound of an exaggerated gagging noise.

"Oh my God," Jeongyeon groaned, clutching her chest like she was in pain. "Can you two not act like a couple in a romance drama while we’re all standing right here?"

Momo dramatically covered her eyes. "I knew this would happen. I knew the moment Y/N stepped onto this set, we’d have to witness this disgusting display of love."

Dahyun gasped, clutching Chaeyoung’s arm. "I think I just got third-wheeling sickness."

Chaeyoung nodded solemnly. "We might not make it through this."

Sana merely sighed dreamily. "But isn’t it so cute?"

Y/N, thoroughly amused, turned back to Nayeon with a smirk. "Well, they did warn me that dating you meant dealing with the peanut gallery."

Nayeon rolled her eyes but didn’t move away. "They’re just jealous."

Before anyone could respond, Sana gasped dramatically. "Wait! Did she—Did Nayeon just openly admit that she missed Y/N?"

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

"Write this down," Jihyo deadpanned, pretending to pull out her phone. "Nayeon, willingly showing affection? This is historic."

Even Tzuyu, let out a small hum. "I should’ve recorded it. We need proof."

Nayeon groaned loudly but still made no effort to untangle herself from Y/N’s embrace. Instead, she simply turned her head to glare at them. "You’re all so annoying."

Sana giggled. "And yet, you still refuse to let go of Y/N."

Y/N grinned, her hold firm and secure. "Let them talk," she murmured, lowering her voice just enough for Nayeon to hear. "I like having you right here."

Nayeon softened, her lips curving into a quiet smile. "Me too." More exaggerated gagging noises followed, but neither of them cared.

The teasing from the members had finally died down, and the set buzzed with activity once again. Some of the girls were still reviewing their own shots, while others grabbed drinks or relaxed before the next round of filming.

Nayeon, however, had other plans.

Y/N barely had time to register what was happening before Nayeon’s fingers curled around her wrist, tugging her away from the group.

"Come with me," Nayeon whispered, her voice tinged with excitement.

Y/N raised an eyebrow but let herself be led through the maze of equipment and staff. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," Nayeon said mysteriously, glancing over her shoulder with that mischievous glint in her eyes, the one that always meant trouble.

Y/N followed her through a dimly lit hallway, passing various props and set decorations, until Nayeon came to a stop in front of something tucked into the corner, a small, vintage-style photo booth. It looked like it had been set up for some behind-the-scenes fun, probably intended for the members to snap pictures during breaks.

Nayeon grinned in satisfaction. "Perfect."

Y/N chuckled. "What, are we sneaking in a secret photoshoot?"

"Obviously," Nayeon said, dragging her inside before she could protest. She slid the curtain shut, enclosing them in the cozy space, where the only light came from the glowing touchscreen in front of them.

Y/N smirked. "You really just wanted an excuse to take cute couple pics, didn’t you?"

Nayeon scoffed, pretending to be offended. "Excuse you, I need these pictures. It’s essential girlfriend behavior."

Y/N laughed, settling onto the seat beside her. "Alright, alright. Let’s do this."

The screen flickered to life, displaying a countdown for the first shot.

"Okay, first one—cute and classic," Nayeon instructed, leaning in with a soft smile. Y/N mirrored her, tilting her head slightly so their cheeks touched as they both beamed at the camera.

Flash.

"Next, heart pose!"

They quickly formed a heart with their hands, their fingers fitting together perfectly just as the second shot went off.

Flash.

"Okay, silly one!"

Without hesitation, Y/N puffed out her cheeks and crossed her eyes, while Nayeon stuck her tongue out dramatically, pretending to recoil in horror at Y/N’s face.

Flash.

As soon as the camera clicked, Y/N burst into laughter. "Oh, that one is gold."

Nayeon giggled, shaking her head. "Okay, okay—last one. Let’s make it special."

Y/N turned to her, eyes full of curiosity. "What do you mean spe—"

Before she could finish, Nayeon suddenly leaned in and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s lips just as the camera went off.

Flash.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart skipping a beat at the unexpected gesture. But before she could even process it, instinct took over. Without hesitation, she kissed Nayeon back, her hand reaching up to gently cup her cheek.

The warmth of the moment wrapped around them, making the small, enclosed space of the photo booth feel like its own little world.

Flash.

The final click of the camera barely registered as they slowly pulled apart, their foreheads resting together as they exchanged matching smiles.

When the screen displayed the last shot, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. There they were, lips locked, eyes closed, completely lost in each other, while the previous frames captured their playful chaos.

"You so planned that," Y/N accused, her voice soft but teasing as she turned to her girlfriend, who was now grinning like she had just won the lottery.

Nayeon shrugged innocently. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her heart still fluttered as she stared at the photo. "You’re impossible."

"And you love it," Nayeon said smugly, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

Y/N sighed dramatically, but her wide smile betrayed her. "Yeah, yeah."

Nayeon grabbed the printed photo strip as soon as it slid out of the machine. Y/N reached for it, but Nayeon was faster, holding it up just out of reach.

"Oh, no you don’t," Y/N warned.

Nayeon smirked, waving the strip tauntingly. "This is mine now."

"Fine," Y/N said, crossing her arms. "But I’m keeping this."

Before Nayeon could react, Y/N swiftly pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the third photo, the one where Nayeon was making the ridiculous face.

Nayeon gasped. "Y/N, don’t you dare—"

Too late. With a devilish grin, Y/N quickly uploaded it to her Instagram story with the caption: Visual queen, everyone.

The notification popped up on Nayeon’s phone almost immediately. Her eyes widened in horror as she stared at the post.

"You. Did. Not."

Y/N winked. "Oh, but I did."

Nayeon’s expression shifted from disbelief to pure determination. "Oh, you’re dead."

Y/N squeaked as Nayeon lunged at her, barely dodging in time before she bolted out of the photo booth, laughter spilling from her lips.

"GET BACK HERE!" Nayeon shouted, sprinting after her.

The set, once calm, erupted into chaos as Y/N weaved between staff members, backup dancers, and TWICE members alike, dodging obstacles with the agility of someone running for their life.

Momo, watching the spectacle unfold, shook her head. "I knew it was only a matter of time before she got herself in trouble."

Jeongyeon sighed dramatically. "They just had a cute moment, and now they’re reenacting a chase scene from an action movie."

Dahyun had already pulled out her phone to record. "This is peak entertainment."

Chaeyoung leaned over to peek at her screen. "Fans are gonna lose their minds over this."

And lose their minds, they did.

Within minutes, Twitter and Instagram were flooded with fan reactions:

“Y/N and Nayeon are the definition of couple goals!”“She really posted that photo just to get a reaction lmaoo”“Nayeon CHASING Y/N AROUND SET?? HELP I CAN’T BREATHE”“TWICE’s next comeback concept: Catch Me If You Can ft. Nayeon hunting down Y/N”

Meanwhile, Y/N had nearly made her escape. Nearly.

Just as she reached the edge of the set, Nayeon grabbed her hoodie from behind and yanked, sending them both tumbling onto one of the lounge couches in a tangled heap.

"You," Nayeon panted, pinning Y/N down. "Are. The worst."

Y/N, breathless from laughter, grinned up at her. "And yet, you love me."

Nayeon groaned, pretending to be exasperated, but the way she stayed close, her nose nearly brushing Y/N’s, gave her away.

"Unfortunately," she muttered, but her soft smile said otherwise.

Y/N laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair from Nayeon’s face. "Admit it, you love it when I make you chase me."

Nayeon rolled her eyes. "I love winning."

"Debatable," Y/N teased.

Nayeon scoffed before leaning down, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s lips as if to say, This is what winning looks like.

More dramatic groans erupted from the members.

"OH, COME ON!" Jeongyeon threw her hands in the air. "Now we have to witness this too?"

Sana sighed happily. "I live for this romance."

Jihyo shook her head, muttering, "At least wait until we’re not filming, you two."

Nayeon simply grinned before pulling Y/N back into another hug, as if refusing to let her go. And honestly? Y/N didn’t mind one bit.

As the day wound down and the energy on set began to mellow, Y/N found herself instinctively searching for Nayeon. The members were busy wrapping up their final takes, and the crew bustled around organizing equipment, but amid the lingering excitement, Y/N just wanted a quiet moment with her.

She didn’t have to look far.

Nayeon was already waiting for her, leaning against the back wall of the set, tucked away from the noise. Her head tilted slightly as she met Y/N’s gaze, a soft, knowing smile curving her lips. Without a word, Y/N walked over, letting the world fade behind her.

The moment she was close enough, Nayeon reached for her, slipping her arms around Y/N’s waist and pulling her in. Y/N let out a content sigh as she melted into her embrace, her fingers naturally finding their way into Nayeon’s hair, playing with the strands absentmindedly.

"Finally," Nayeon murmured, resting her chin against Y/N’s shoulder. "I’ve been waiting for you to sneak away with me."

Y/N chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "I had to let you finish being a superstar first."

Nayeon hummed. "Mmm. Well, now I just want to be your girlfriend."

Y/N smiled, running her hands up and down Nayeon’s back. "Lucky for you, I love you as both."

At that, Nayeon pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s eyes. The playful glint from earlier had softened into something more tender, more vulnerable. "You know, I hate it when you have to leave."

Y/N sighed, pressing their foreheads together. "I know."

It was always the hardest part, stealing time for each other only to have it cut too short. Y/N had her own packed schedule, and Nayeon had hers, but they always made it work. Somehow, no matter how busy life got, they always found their way back to each other.

"I’ll see you soon, though," Y/N reassured her, brushing her thumb over Nayeon’s cheek. "Promise."

Nayeon sighed dramatically. "That’s not soon enough."

Y/N laughed, tilting her head. "So what, you want me to just stay here? Become the honorary tenth member of TWICE?"

Nayeon smirked. "Wouldn’t be the worst idea. Think of all the time we’d have together."

"Pretty sure JYP would notice," Y/N teased.

"Pfft," Nayeon waved her off. "Details."

Y/N grinned, leaning in to steal another soft kiss, slow and lingering, savoring the moment. Nayeon sighed into it, her fingers tightening around the fabric of Y/N’s hoodie.

When they finally broke apart, Nayeon’s eyes flickered with mischief. Before Y/N could question it, Nayeon suddenly stepped back, still clutching Y/N’s hoodie, and in one swift motion, she peeled it right off of her.

"Hey!" Y/N started, shivering slightly at the sudden loss of warmth.

Nayeon grinned, slipping the oversized hoodie over her. It was far too big for her, the sleeves covering her hands completely, but she looked ridiculously adorable in it.

"This is mine now," she announced proudly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "And why exactly are you stealing my hoodie?"

Nayeon crossed her arms, as if that made her claim on the hoodie more legitimate. "Because it smells like you," she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N stared at her for a moment before shaking her head with a chuckle. "You’re ridiculous."

"And yet, you love me," Nayeon shot back, beaming.

Y/N sighed dramatically, but she couldn’t fight the warmth blooming in her chest. "Yeah, yeah."

She leaned in once more, pressing one last lingering kiss to Nayeon’s lips before whispering, "I really do."

The moment stretched, quiet yet profound, as Y/N and Nayeon remained in their secluded space, unwilling to let reality pull them apart just yet. The world outside their little bubble buzzed with movement. All Y/N could focus on was the way Nayeon’s fingers danced lightly along her wrist, tracing soft, absentminded patterns as if memorizing the shape of her skin.

“I wish we had more time like this,” Nayeon whispered, her voice laced with longing. It wasn’t just a passing sentiment, it was a plea, a quiet confession of how much she missed these moments.

Y/N let out a soft breath, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of Nayeon’s hair behind her ear. Her touch lingered for a second longer than necessary, fingertips brushing the warmth of her cheek. “Me too,” she admitted, voice gentle yet firm. “But I’ll take whatever moments we get.”

Nayeon’s lips curled into a playful pout, though her eyes remained soft, vulnerable. “It’s not enough. I want you here all the time.”

Y/N chuckled, tilting her head slightly. “Greedy, aren’t you?”

Nayeon huffed dramatically, pressing closer, resting her forehead against Y/N’s shoulder. “Only when it comes to you.”

The warmth of her presence, the way she clung to Y/N like she never wanted to let go, sent a shiver of affection down Y/N’s spine. She tightened her arms around Nayeon’s waist, reveling in the way she fit so perfectly in her embrace.

But then, reality intruded.

A voice called from across the set, pulling them back to the present. Nayeon groaned, her grip on Y/N tightening for just a second longer before she reluctantly loosened it. “Already?” she mumbled, voice tinged with frustration.

Y/N smiled knowingly and squeezed her hand. “Go. I probably should get back to work too.”

Nayeon hesitated, her gaze searching Y/N’s. Then, without another word, she leaned in and pressed a quick, featherlight kiss to Y/N’s cheek, her lips lingering just long enough to send Y/N’s heartbeat into overdrive.

“Don’t disappear on me,” she murmured before finally stepping away.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, watching as Nayeon made her way back onto the set. There was a slight reluctance in her movements, a longing glance thrown over her shoulder just before she slipped back into her idol persona. The instant the cameras were on her, she transformed—radiant, confident, breathtaking.

“You’re completely gone for her,” Jihyo’s amused voice interrupted Y/N’s daze, and she turned to find the leader smirking at her knowingly.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, unable to deny it. “I know.”

As if drawn to her, Nayeon stole one last glance in Y/N’s direction, their eyes locking across the set. In that moment, nothing else existed, no cameras, no expectations, no schedules. Just the silent promise between them. No matter the distance, no matter the chaos, I will always find my way back to you.

#kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg x reader #kpop x reader #twice x fem reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice nayeon #im nayeon x reader #nayeon x reader #nayeon x fem reader

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 8 days ago

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one of the reasons why i love ToA so much is the little bits and pieces of the gods we get to see.

so i guess this is really more of a 'this is why i love the gods so much' rather than my usual 'this is why i love ToA' post lmao

but fr, the gods are just sooooo much more fleshed out in ToA. they're more complex, and have these layers to them that pjo and hoo just Did Not convey (and really, only conveyed those things post publication of ToA, which came with the tools on how to decode the gods and read between the lines).

and i'm not even talking about Apollo here. he is by far the most fleshed out god we have because he's the pov character, but i also mean all 12 of the other olympians - they're just so juicy!!

like okay, sure, in pjo and hoo we get glimpses that Dionysus may care more than he lets on, but ToA CONFIRMS this, but not in an 'in your face' way - but in the 'Dionysus picks at Apollo like a little brother would' way, and in that FIRST interaction between Apollo and Dionysus, we can SEE what their relationship was like!!

Hermes is another VERY layered god, ESPECIALLY with pjo's context. but that context ONLY gains its own importance BECAUSE of the story ToA gives us - we would NOT have 'resigned to fate' Hermes without it. or embittered at his favorite brother Hermes. we love this Hermes eheheheheheheh

Artemis also gains more character, and is no longer just the stoic cool badass #Girlboss she's largely presented as - she's scared, she fears for Apollo, so much so she SPLITS. she comes RUNNING to help him in TTT as soon as she could, giving her a softer side, while simultaneously expands on her previous appearances and allowing us to see how she is unconsciously enabling the abuse Apollo's experienced. LAYERS !! !! !!

DEMETER. OOOHHH DEMETER ILY, IN MYTHOLOGY AND THE RRVERSE. BUT FOR COMPLETELY DIFFERENT REASONS LMAO

we can infer Demeter has basically shot herself in the foot by obsessing so much over Persephone, where she NEGLETS her other kids (ex: Lityerses, Meg). myth Demeter would NEVER but rrverse Demeter is still a fav BECAUSE of how flawed she is.

ARESSSSS do i even need to say anything. we KNOW Ares and Apollo are bros because of how often Apollo takes pot-shots at him in his dialogue LMAO true brother behavior

Hades is a chill uncle with Apollo in particular. i mean. *gestures* he used to purposefully mess up Apollo's aim when shooting for no reason. need i say more?

looking back i'm also a little intrigued by how little Poseidon was mentioned - perhaps lending credence to the idea that he and Apollo grew apart over the centuries?

also Hestia's position as the goddess of the hearth and home calls into question how passive she is on olympus BECAUSE of the shitshow it's become!! she defends it!! what has caused the hearth and home, the FIRSTBORN OF KRONOS, of the ENTIRE PANTHEON to be so stagnant in the face of this toxic cycle? the people want to know and so do i.

Hephaestus is trickier to pin down for me because he has little mention, but there's one SPECIFIC one that has stuck in my brain and its the "apollo missed an entire decade watching Hephaestus's newton's cradle INSIDE HIS OFFICE"

what was apollo doing in his office. and why did hephaestus - notorious introvert - let him stay in there. these are the questions we are all dying to know.

ATHENAAAAAAA !! !! !! !! !! that nod she gives apollo at the end. her bet on his SUCCESS. need i say more? she's bros with him trust <3 add in the mythology and it gets SPICY

Aphrodite is arguably a tricky one to pin down too, and honestly we as a fandom have probably taken more from the mythos to pin down her character than with the others, but she's sooooo interesting too!! the eldest olympian. powerful goddess. extremely cunning and ruthless. and yet she's seen as airheaded and vain by practically everyone.

makes you wonder who else is like that. *quick glance at our favorite god* i dunno who that could be. *whistles innocently*

and do i need to say anything about Zeus? about the tragedy of him falling into the cycle he was meant to break? ABOUT THE TRAGEDY OF HOW HE DEF WANTED TO BE A FATHER BUT HIS PARANOIA GOT THE BETTER OF HIM UNTIL HE NO LONGER WAS ONE??

*seizes you by the shoulders* HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS. HOW.

and ofc. one of my FAVORITE gods...Hera. oh, ho ho Hera. you do NOT deserve the hate you get <3 okay maybe a bit of irritation is warranted because you do pull off risky things in hoo but we stan a goddess who takes charge in this house.

YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME SHE'S GONNA BE - well, nicer? is that the right word? - BETTER WITH APOLLO POST-TOA. AFTER SEEING EVERYTHING HE SUFFERED? AFTER SEEING HIM SHED THE MASK? AFTER JASON GRACE?

*pounds mercilessly on the table* I WILL NEVER NOT BE ANNOYING ABOUT THEM I LOVE THEM ALL INCLUDING THE BITS OF CHARACTER FROM THE MINOR GODS WE GET TOO!!

#ramblings of an oracle #the trials of apollo #I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THEM #this came on to me after i thought to myself “man why are you so obsessed with the gods more than the demigods?”#and to that i was like "well probably because there's deeper meaning behind their characters even between the lines.#the demigods' stories are pretty much wrapped up. but the gods? they're fresh. they have CHARACTER now. they're so dysfunctional.#but that makes them INTERESTING! it's a breath of fresh air to explore these more “adult” topics esp in a series typically aimed at kids!“#i love them your honor #trials of apollo #pjo apollo #toa apollo #pjo artemis #pjo hermes #pjo dionysus #pjo hephaestus #pjo ares #pjo aphrodite #pjo hera #pjo zeus #pjo hades #pjo demeter #pjo poseidon #pjo hestia #percy jackon and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year ago

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Humans are weird: Do a human a “Solid”

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On Xenthari it was both culturally acceptable and almost mandatory to participate in duels. They could be fought for honor, profit, social status, or for the sheer thrill of it should one be of that disposition. Participants could even choose champions to fight for them instead making the position of professional duelist a very lucrative occupation.

Lulu did not particularly enjoy the idea of dueling. She never was good with a sword and would more often end up losing, and she lacked enough funds to make hiring someone in her stead near impossible. At school she had few friends and the ones she did have would never volunteer to be her champions when she was eventually challenged to duels.

It wasn’t because she was actively searching for them. She rather liked her quiet life and avoided such confrontations that would lead to a duel being issued. Yet she was a social outcast and picking on her had been deemed a past time for some of the more aggressive students at her school. They would easily disarm her and then take great relish in attacking her.

Duels for those underage were different from official duels. One could not deal a lethal blow in underage duels. Rules stated that while surrender was a great dishonor, a duelist could surrender and forfeit the duel after being dealt one blow. Because Lulu hated fighting she would let her opponents get a blow in and then surrender. With that though came dishonor to her name and her standing as an outcast only further grew.

Lulu had resigned herself to this fate until one day a transfer student came to school.

Her name was Trisha Yulie, but she preferred to be called “Triss”. Her family had sent her to Xenthari after several “incidents” happened at her school back on her homeworld. They thought that being in such a drastically different environment and society would make her appreciate the things she used to have. Little did her parents know that the combative nature of Xenthari would only increase these tendencies; one of which introduced Triss to her new friend, Lulu.

The two had never interacted with each other until one day in the cafeteria Lulu saw Triss near one of the food dispensers. She was rummaging through her pockets and looking upset; Lulu figured the human did not have enough currency to purchase an item.

“Here.” Lulu said as she walked next to Triss.

She leaned forward and put a token into the machine and then smacked the side of it three times in certain places. The machine sputtered and beeped for a moment before a food package emerged from the dispenser. Lulu took it and handed it to Triss.

Looking down at the food Triss smiled as she gratefully took it. “Thanks,” Triss said as she followed Lulu back to a table, “was getting so hungry I started wondering if there were any horses around here.”

Lulu looked at Triss and something must have shown on her face as Triss realized she would have no idea what a horse was. She was just about to explain when a group of students came up behind Llulu and shoved her.

“Get up.” The leader of them laughed. “It’s time for your correction.”

Lulu didn’t need to see who had shoved her as she recognized the voice even before she stood up and turned around.

Ulia, the most popular student and heir to a wealthy transit corporation run by her family, gave a sadistic grin as her gang of lackeys laughed. She loved to pick on Lulu and normally she would have just allowed the duel to happen, but Triss had other ideas.

“Oi, fuck face!” Triss spoke up as Ulia shifted he gaze to Triss. “Me and my new friend here were having a conversation and you weren’t invited, so piss off!”

“How cute.” Ulia chuckled. “You let your dog speak for you now, eh Lulu?”

“Did she just fucking call me a dog?” Triss asked a still silent Lulu. “Have you looked in a mirror? Your face is so ugly it gets flagged for indecent exposure online.”

For the first time Lulu could ever remember she was Ulia’s face twitch in anger.

“I see that I need to teach our new exchange student here some manners.”

Triss sighed loudly. “I was going to give you a chance to apologize, but now I’m just going to kick your ass.”

The surrounding students pulled tables away to form a circle. Ulia drew her sword and activated its power field. The blade lit to life as it was enveloped by a green glow casting shadows across the room.

Ulia grinned as she drew the blade close to her face “Draw your blade so we can end this farce.”

To her surprise Triss shook her head and shrugged off her school jacket revealing a well-toned body of raw muscle. “Don’t need a fancy stick to beat you when I got these.” She shook out her hands and brought them up as clenched fists.

“Your funeral.” Ulia laughed as she took up a ready stance. One of her lackeys stepped between Triss and Ulia and acted as ref. “The duel will begin when I step back out of the ring. First one to verbally surrender or be rendered incapable of continuing the duel will be designated the loser and thus ending the duel. No lethal blows are allowed.”

With that the lackey stepped backwards beginning the duel.

Ulia lunged forward ready to run Triss through with the tip of her sword. Triss stood motionless for the last second until the blade was inches from her.

Pivoting to the side at the last moment Triss avoided the blade as Ulia’s forward momentum kept her going. She was about to spin her blade around when Triss drove a hard right punch directly into her jaw.

The blow was heavy enough to stagger Ulia as she tried to recover but Triss gave her no time. She was within Ulia’s guard in a flash and delivered another blow to the opposite side of Ulia’s jaw.

“Waaagh?” Ulia stammered as she stumbled back into the crowd of onlookers. Her eyes went wide as she gurgled more noises with increasing frustration but no intelligible words came out.

“By now you’ve probably realized your jaw has been completely dislocated from your skull.” Triss spoke as she circled Ulia. “I didn’t want you giving up too early; gotta lot of steam I need to blow off.”

Ulia shoved the people around her away and tried to shout something only for it to be slurred beyond recognition. She brought the sword down hard in a long sweep towards Triss but she backed away to avoid it.

Unleashing a flurry of blows each one capable of cutting through flesh, but Triss continued dodging them left and right like a prize boxer. She opened up another devastating blow to Ulia’s midriff causing her to vomit a large amount of fluid.

The crowd watched with horrified silence. Never had they seen a duel with fists before. It was something utterly foreign to them and had been taught to be barbaric. Yet here was a human who with only her fists was decimating a sword wielder.

Triss circled Ulia who had collapsed to the ground. “You want to give up princess?” she mocked. “Just say the word and…oh wait! You can’t much say anything right now can you?”

Ulia swept her blade for Triss’s ankles. With a swift motion Triss lifted her right foot and brought it down as hard as she could on Ulia’s hand holding the sword, crushing the wrist with a loud wet crunch. The blade fell from Ulia’s hand as she cradled her now broken wrist with her remaining hand.

Triss picked up the blade and inspected it. “What you think Lulu?” Triss called over to Lulu who was standing in the gathered crowd. “She started messing with you; want me to rough her up some more?”

Every eye in the crowd suddenly turned to look at Lulu. Lulu’s mouth opened to speak but nothing came out as Triss continued.

“I wonder, how much credibility do you think you’d lose if you were cut by your own blade?”

She held the blade out against Ulia’s cheek as her eyes went wide. “Bet you’re little groupies here might bail on you.” Triss leaned down and whispered to Ulia. “Or maybe you’re more worried about what your family would say?”

Tears of pure teal formed in the corners of her eyes as Ulia tried to speak only for Triss to shush her by putting a finger over her mouth.

“If you don’t want that to happen, I think you should leave me and my friend alone from now on; else the next time we have this little dispute you won’t end so peacefully.”

With that Ulia nodded and collapsed to the ground.

“Looks like she can’t continue,” Triss announced proudly, dropping the sword in, “I think that means I’m the winner.”

The crowd parted as Triss walked back to Lulu and put an arm over her shoulder. “I think we were having lunch before all that happened, want to get back to it?”

“Ssssure.” Lulu stammered as she let Triss lead her back to their table. As the pair sat down she finally worked up the courage to say “Thank you.”

“For what?” Triss remarked as she tried to pull open the food package Lulu gave her earlier.

“For standing up for me.” Lulu replied. She leaned over and pressed a button on the package and it flash cooked the meal and opened itself.

Triss nodded her thanks and began digging in. “You did me a solid so I do you one; tit for tat.”

“So because I got you lunch you fought a duel for me? Lulu asked, astounded when Lulu nodded.

“A solid is a solid, doesn’t matter if it is equal or not; that’s what friends do for each other.”

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #doing a solid #fighting #dueling

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