#ahhh i’m just kicking my feet here

[fatelcved]

my sister: don’t get me anything for christmas bc you helped me get a dog

me: okay if you’re sure

me on dec 24, sneaking her gift under the tree:

[drgnflyteabox]

something to remember you by

pairing: soap x fem reader summary: your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos. w.c: 3.7k tags/warnings: dubcon, cucking, mild degradation, oral (m + f, rough), hair pulling, un-negotiated kink, dom!soap, clothed man naked reader, teasing scent kink (m + f), one (1) pussy slap, crying, squirting, unprotected sex, some anxiety, reassurance mid-fuck, overstimulation, some aftercare, abrupt but open ending, reader has some internal shame around sex/kink, reader doesn't rlly like her bf

At first, it’s nothing. Dirty talk, suggestive texts, passing comments while he’s on his second deployment with a hand around his cock and you pretending to be into it.

"Think about it, babe," he’s panting, but it’s less sexy when you can tell he’s deepening his voice on purpose like Christian Bale Batman. "Don’t you wanna give me something to remember you by? While I’m out here fighting for you?"

Corny. So fucking corny. Your feet are kicked up on your coffee table, fuzzy-socked, face schlopped with a cooling gel mask. Quarter past 8 o’clock, and he’s trying to sell you on letting one of his army buddies fuck you and take pictures of you. The absurdity makes you almost laugh.

"…babe?" Oh, shit.

"Yeah honey, I’m here." You’d kind of feel bad, if it weren’t for the ick factor. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, he was fine, it was just that since he’d joined the army he’d inched closer and closer to picking up a mic and dictating which body counts were okay to women over podcasts. That, and he’s gotten hornier. Kinkier.

Which is fine, really. Only you don't consider yourself adventurous. Sex is like a chore, something to put you to sleep, to relax the muscles. Relationships are quid pro quo - I suck your dick, you make my parents think I’m succeeding in life, deal?

Not to mention, you've never even considered stepping outside of the idea that sex is between committed couples only, sequestered away and hidden in the closet like old clothes.

"So, are you picturing it?" Schlap schlap schlap. He must’ve added lotion. "You can say no obviously, ughnnn, but I know this guy really well. I'd, ahhh fuck, sit in the other room."

"Thanks for being so considerate," you sound dry, but you’re honestly intrigued. Life has been monotonous since graduation, the transition from study to office… rough.

You aren’t adventurous. But you’re so fucking bored.

"Can I see him first?" On the TV in front of you, muted, Matthew Macfayden confesses his love tearfully in the rain. You want to be bewitched, body and soul. To feel something.

"So you’ll do it? Oh, fuck-" Not what I said, you think. His voice goes high, reedy, trembling with his orgasm. "See how fucking hot this makes me? I’ll send a pic, give me a sec."

It’s a group photo. He’s dressed in his uniform, head shaved, standing next to a group of a dozen or so men. Outlined, at the far corner with a group of guys big enough to dwarf a good third of the rest, is a man with building biceps and a smarmy grin and a confident, wide-legged pose. Hips jutted out. Fuck, he’s hot. You can see his bulge through his pants, through the picture, under a heavy tac vest.

"Get in, get in!" the apartment is clean for once. At least, clean without you getting sick of his clutter and playing maid. Did he do it himself to impress his friend? That makes you snort, but he doesn’t catch it, too preoccupied with his phone.

"Um, woah-" you start, taken aback. It looks like a porn set. There’s a plastic sheet on the ground in front of the couch. "I thought this was supposed to be casual?"

"It is, babe," he’s brushing you off, same as he did the few days leading up to this. You’d gone through some minor confidence and judgment crises, anxiety building like a balloon about to pop. All of which he’d brushed off.

It’s all fun and games, babe. Plus he��s done this before, he’s like a pro, showed me some videos - that was something you hadn't agreed to, just some pictures for him to take on deployments.

Still, trepidation makes you sweat, makes your thighs stick to the brown leather couch when you sit and try to sip water. Your socks crinkle the sheet.

You don’t turn when he arrives, still too nervous, knees stuck together and hands slipping on the glass from condensation when they start talking behind you. There’s too many what ifs - all reasons you’d used to avoid hookups in college, all reasons you wanted to break through your shell now.

Plus, you’re sick of hearing "did you finish?"

"This must be her," says an accented voice, gruff and maybe amused, "ye feelin' shy?"

No. You’re just nervous. Exposed. One of the only conditions you'd pushed was no cuck chair, but now you weren't sure how to feel to be left alone with him soon. This man is so big, so imposing.

"Hi," you say smartly. He looks just like his photo, only bigger. Bulging muscles and the same wide stance when he comes to stand in front of you. It’s only because you can’t stand sitting face-to-face with his crotch that you stand and hold your hand out to shake.

"And polite!" Loud. He introduces himself as Johnny, which makes your boyfriend's eyebrows raise. "So cute." he takes the liberty of bypassing your hand and grabbing your waist.

Oh fuck, he runs hot. His hands burn, even through your shirt. You feel self-conscious, plain, looking up at his probing blue eyes. They’re so intense, captivating, distracting you from the feeling of him getting closer and closer, till your tits are pressed to his.

"Hey-"

The moment breaks. Your boyfriend is looking at you both, unreadable expression on his face. Is he regretting this? Feeling emasculated, maybe? Hard to feel much sympathy when you’re the one about to get fucked.

And it was his idea.

"I’m gonna go to the bedroom," his eyes squint, flitting between the both of you before he scurries away, pants tented.

"Now that that's outta the way," Johnny grunts. "C'mere." And sits down with a grunt, pulling you to him.

You try to pivot, to sit next to him, but he's strong and coordinated so you wind up in his lap, back touching the arm of the couch and your legs slung over his, bum on one thigh.

"That's more like it, no?" there's that wolfish grin again, so close. One hand rests on your knee, possessively, while the other wraps around your shoulders and plays with your shirt. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?"

The hand on your knee moves to your face, gripping your cheeks in a grip hard enough to push your lips out into an embarrassing pout. You struggle a little, pulling at his wrist, but he doesn't budge.

He pulls his phone out, aiming the camera at your face, recording a video through a text-app. You can that it's a groupchat, assured by your boyfriend before that it was totally private, babe. This is jut between us.

"Now say hello," he puts his stubbly cheek next to yours, rubbing like a cat. "And introduce yourself."

"H'llo," you struggle through it, muffled by his grip. Your name is almost unintelligible, and your jaw starts to ache a little.

"Say, can I please suck your cock, sir?"

Your stomach tightens, right down to your pussy, which gushes a little into your panties.

"Cn'I please suck your cock, sir?" he's so fucking forward, just jumping in headfirst. The loss of control, your being told what to do, makes your clit jump. Sex has never been like this - you've never been so acquiescing.

"Of course you can, bonnie!" you're almost tossed to the floor, no gentleness as he pulls you toward him by the hair so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He scoots to the edge of the couch, leaning back against it, and uses that strong arm to rub your face on his bulge. "Get me hard."

He puts his phone on the arm of the couch.

You flounder, hands finding his knees and trying to pull back. He doesn't let you.

"Use your mouth, kiss me," his hand finds a firmer hold on your hair as you start mouthing against him, tasting denim, smelling his musk, letting it get to your head and make you dizzy. "That's right, kitten."

His cock starts to chub under his clothes, and you almost wish you could feel it in your mouth. Oral isn't your favourite, but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and drips into your panties is making you think maybe you were wrong about yourself.

"Up, up," your face is rubbed a little raw by the time you sit up, looking at him. Waiting for instruction. "Everything off, except your panties."

You obey, stripping your shirt and bra and then your shorts. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the apartment, goosebumps dancing along your arms and your belly. Self-consciousness almost has you reaching to cover yourself, until Johnny grabs you by the shoulders and twists you just enough that you're back to facing his phone.

"Look at these," he grunts in your ear, fingers finding your nipples. Pulling them, pinching them. It's not for you, it's for the camera. You feel like an object, an accessory, secondary to getting the shot of the rough pads of his fingers teasing you into whimpers.

You've never been more turned on.

"Nice, eh?" he pulls them up and out, which hurts, but draws a line of pure electricity from your nipples to your clit. "Whatd'ye think, L.T?" the name doesn't register. Army stuff, you assume.

You're turned back around sharply again to face his actual cock. He's pulled it from his fly, thick and leaking, while you were getting undressed. It's unfair, really, nice and long and curved.

"Ask me again," a statement. A command, phone discarded.

"Please can I suck your cock, sir?" the words make your cheeks burn, your body quiver, your clit jump.

"Ye can," laughter this time, worsening your embarrassment. His hand finds your hair again, pulling you down when you're too slow to touch your lips to the head of his dick. "I'm gonnae fuck your face, alright?"

Without waiting, he lifts his hips up and thrust into your mouth. It's not as deep as it can go, but you almost gag, unprepared. The next thrust is deeper, quicker. He's letting you build up to it, letting your hands rest on his knees for balance.

Your nose touches his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of him. Any attempt at hollowing your cheeks, sucking, licking, is futile. He's so quick that the best you can do is hang on for the ride, keeping your teeth in check.

Drool builds and spills past your lips, making wet sounds compete with his frankly pornographic moaning. He's a man possessed, using you while you squeeze your eyes against overwhelmed tears.

Finally he yanks you off of him by the hair, holding you up while you splutter from the unexpected change. Your hands go to your face, trying to wipe.

"None o'that, now," he bats them away, giving you a shake when you keep trying. "Leave it." like you're a bad dog.

Strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his cock, thin and gooey, that fall to your bare chest when he sits up.

You're turned, stood up and then guided to the couch to sit. Johnny slaps your thighs to get you to open them, lifting your feet for you so that your heels rest on the edge of the couch cushions.

"Awe, look how wet she is," he holds your legs, exposing your wet panties to him and to his phone, where he takes a few pictures. Again, you wonder about the appeal of this for your boyfriend. It's hot for you. Degrading, but hot. Or maybe more hot because of the degradation.

"Oh god," you say out of shock. You've never been so fucking wet in your life, and god forbid he sees how swollen with arousal you are underneath.

"Naw, just me," Johnny says, rubbing his knuckles over your pussy through the fabric. "She all wet and frustrated?"

You don't answer, hands keeping you sat up, chest heaving. You're still a little dizzy.

Johnny licks over your panties, mouthing over them not unlike what you did for him only a few minutes before. It's nothing, really, but you're so worked up that it startles a long, drawn-out moan from you.

He continues like this, never actually making contact with where you need it, with your skin. Every one in a while he turns his head to the side and grins, taking a picture or a videoclip while you tip your head back and resist begging him to just get on with it.

His nose presses on your mound, where he drags it down to your hole and sniffs.

That's what breaks your resolve.

"Please," you whine. Your voice is rough from taking his cock in your throat.

"Please what?" he opens his mouth and puts his teeth on you, not biting, just letting you feel them. Gnawing gently.

"Please do it," you look down at him, and even though he's on his knees you know you aren't the one in control. "Please lick my cunt."

A laugh, mean and condescending. Your eyes close in shame, pussy burning for attention.

"This cunt right here?" he pulls the gusset aside, whistling. "This desperate little cunt?"

"Yes, please," you curl your toes into the couch.

Something shifts in his eyes, some unrecognizable flash. It feels like danger, like you're in over your head. Johnny takes two fingers and rubs them over your clit, slowly at first, and then quickly when he feels how slippery you are.

Somewhere, a volcano erupts and it isn't comparable to the heat or the feeling of your clit finally getting attention. It zings through you, making you squeeze your muscles, taught and trembling.

The pads of his fingers are a rough sensation on your swollen skin, the worlds best vibrator, ribbed for your pleasure. All he does is rub, up and down over your clit, quickly and until your face starts to scrunch together in orgasm, trembling hard.

Then he pulls back and slaps you so hard on your pussy you scream.

You almost come from it, shocked, legs kicking out, skin burning and clit pulsing with desperation, back bowing. You keep making sound after, a long and drawn out aaaaaahhhhh while he grins like the cat that got the cream. Takes another picture, the click of the camera loud in the face of your disappointment.

The intensity of it almost brings you to tears, looking at him with betrayal and vulnerability in your face. You feel weak all of a sudden, cored, devoured, pulled apart as soft as slow cooked meat.

Your panties fall back over your skin, a minor comfort against the sting.

"Poor girl," Johnny says with false sympathy. "Let me make it up to ye."

Then you're up again, pulled and pressed against Johnny's chest until he pulls your underwear down and rearranges you to sit on his lap over his spread legs, yours dangling on either side.

"Gonna bounce ye on my cock, alright?" you nod. "Sit on it."

You lift your hips, using his knees for balance, and he guides the head of his cock to your hole. Stops you from sitting back right away with a hand on your hip, squeezing the soft flesh there, and holding you there.

"They're kissing," he laughs. You feel it, your cunt mouthing at him like a conscious being, separate from you. "Ye think they want tae meet each other?"

"Can I?" you don't fight to keep the whine out of your voice. You want to come, you want this aching and this emptiness to end.

"Can ye what?"

"Sit on your cock, please."

"Well, since ye asked so nicely," and then he notches himself properly again, and forces you down with two hands on your waist. You shout, arching, head thrown back. "Bounce on it now, kitten. Show me how badly ye want to come."

And oh god, you do. You rock forward, shaking at the feeling of him, no technique to guide you just pure intuition, brain and cunt and body as one. Distantly, the sound of the camera registers, but it only makes you move faster.

He spreads your cheeks, exposing where you're connected, putting the camera close to the wet clench of your cunt around his cock and - oh, he's filming it. There's no click, just the wet sounds of you riding him.

"Thas'right," he murmurs lowly, maybe for show. "You wanna come?"

"Yes!" you lean back, then, sweat slicked back sticking to his shirt, forgetting where you are and why you're here. Everything narrows down to your pussy, but you feel compelled to keep your hands off your clit even though you know it would make you come quickly.

You want to listen to him, to wait for permission. The thought is searing heat through your core.

Fingers find your face, slipping into your mouth. Your lips wrap around them, sucking like you would've his cock.

His other hand lifts his phone in front of you both, snapping shots of your unfocused eyes, your tits pushed into the air, his smarmy expression. He hooks his fingers then into your cheek, pulling back like a fishhook.

"Good girl," his lips against your ear, stubble scratching the hot skin of your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you for real now, alright?"

You nod, desperately. He pushes you up and off of him, face down in the cushion. He's still clothed, for gods sake, jeans rubbing against the backs of your thighs when he drags your ass back toward him.

The mushroom head of his cock finds your cunt again, pushing in, driving you nuts. You're moaning helplessly, letting him take your boneless arms to hold them behind you.

He fucks you like a man possessed, in a short strokes, barely leaving the hot clutch of your pussy. The sounds, if they were bad before, are worse now, wet and humiliating.

Every thrust feels like he's slowly inflating a balloon inside you, like something pulling taut, like pressure about to burst.

"Fuck, wait!" you shout and turn your head. The pressure is insane, mixed up with a building orgasm, twined together. He hasn't even touched your clit, and yet you're on the precipice.

Johnny leans down, lips on your ear. He slows, but doesn't stop.

"What is it, bonnie?"

"I have to pee," you'd have mumbled it before, but the feeling is so strong you can't help but whimper and cry. "Please let me up."

"Ye aren't gonna pee," he laughs. "Trust me, just trust me." Then keeps pistoning into you.

You feel like jello, like mush, the only solid part of you is about to burst and somehow it makes you feel real anxiety, dampening your enjoyment.

"Johnny-" you whimper, emotion clogging your voice. You feel vulnerable, held down and bared.

In need of reassurance.

"You're alright," he leans back down and nuzzles your wet cheek. "Ye can let go, kitten, I've got ye."

You gasp, pulsing hard around him, the feeling back again, before you gush around his cock, a spray so intense you cry as it forces him out of you.

"Good. Fucking. Girl!" he slaps your ass once, twice, on both cheeks. Rubs your flank like a horse and then plunges back into you when you finish dripping down your legs.

This is purely selfish, him fucking you hard now, jackrabbiting his hips into yours. You hear the phone again, just barely, as your ears ring.

You're raw from coming without any touch to your clit, a weird limbo between being on-edge and oversensitive.

"Gonna give me another," he's growling now, getting impossibly faster. You actually really cry when he reaches around to twist your clit, thrashing under him, not sure if you want to leap off the couch or crawl right back into him. "Come for me!" he shouts, pulling up the hood of your clit to really get at you, rubbing rough circles around your beleaguered little nub.

The second orgasm melts your brain out of your ears, so long and drawn out that you're still shivering with the aftershocks as he pulls out of you and paints your back with his release.

You pant, arm one arm dangling over the edge of the couch while you the other covers your eyes.

Johnny rubs a hand on your thigh, light and gentle, patting your bum as he stands. You move your arm just enough to squint at him.

His jeans are soaked.

You laugh, uninhibited, delirious. He laughs with you.

"All you, darlin'!" he takes another shot of you, pulls your legs apart and takes a picture of your wet, sore hole.

"Is she good?" ah, your boyfriend. He has his own wet spot on the front of his pants.

"She's good," Johnny confirms. "Ye need to take care of her now, right?"

Something in his voice changes. A different kind of authority to the one he used on you, one reserved for soldiers. For men beneath him. At that thought, your pussy makes a valiant effort to clench.

"Yeah, yeah," you hear. Your boyfriend has his phone out, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "These are great man, thanks."

You start to sit up, still shaking, but not wanting to have him see you that way.

"Man, you weren't kidding!" he goes on. Johnny frowns and steps forward to clap him hard on the back and grab his nape.

"Run a bath, do it now. Ye got granola bars?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on."

You're touched by his concern, and wind up soaking in warm bubbles after he leaves. You wonder about the photos, about what you look like. If your boyfriend is satisfied, if Johnny is.

If you were good.

Feels like you were, but somethings changed. Johnny found a soft spot knife-deep inside you and dug himself in, made you fly and made sure you were brought back to earth after, tenderized and then wrapped in comfort.

Beneath the water, you touch your pussy. Not to masturbate, just to feel the soft sore flesh, to remember the feeling of fullness.

Maybe, after his deployment, your boyfriend will want more pictures.

Fresh material.

Beneath the water, your finger curls into yourself and you sigh, satisfied.

[harrysfolklore]

idk if you’re still taking requests but you should do actress!yn who’s been a long time fan of harry since 1d and a fellow solo harrie and they’re the stars of this movie (maybe a romcom 🤔) and then y/n is so nervous around harry and he teases her?? then they realize they have so much in common and it’s just fluff everywhere 🥲

this is honestly one of my favorite blurbs i’ve ever done and i hope you love it as much as i do! enjoy and thank youuu for the request

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram The Bear has been out for a week and you can watch it on Hulu if you haven’t already ok we love u and goodbye!!

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ynfan1 SO SLAY

sza ❤️

ynfan2 ive been here since day one

harryfan1 HARRY LIKED THIS OMG

mtv We stan

harrystyles Amazing show and amazing work from everybody, love it x

↳ harryfan2 HARRY ???

↳harryfan3 his new show obsession now that succession is over

↳ ynfan2 YN IS A LONGTIME 1D FAN LOL I BET SHES CRYING

↳ yourinstagram omg this means a lot, thank you for watching and supporting !

TWITTER

//

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yourinstagram SEASON FINALE OF THE BEAR AIRS TODAY 🥲 thank you for all the love u all have my heart

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ynfan1 SOBBING

zendaya Congratulations little angel 🤍

ynfan2 SHES THE PEOPLE’S PRINCESS

harryfan1 IS THAT?

↳ harryfan2 IM PRETTY SURE IT IS

mtv Crying over the flowers and note 👀

harrystyles Love, love, love

↳ harryfan3 HARRYYYYY

↳ ynfan3 if this ain’t love then what is

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harryupdates Harry and YN out in London today !

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harryfan1 WEEEEEE

ynfan1 OH

harryfan2 COUPLE ALERT SO DAMN RIGJY

ynfan2 chill i bet they’re just friends

harryfan3 NO WAY

ynfan3 the pipeline from being a one direction fan to hanging out with (maybe dating??) harry i’m so here for it

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theharrytea guysss deuxmoi posted this !! i think it might be about harry omg. thoughts ?

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harryfan1 OOOOHHH

harryfan2 harry in a romcom i could DIE

harryfan3 PERIOD DRAMA YES YES

harryfan4 omg makes sense i hope it’s true we need ROMCOMRRY

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yourinstagram scripts coming in and i’m like:

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ynfan1 YAYYYY

zendaya ❤️

harryfan1 harry liked thisssss

ynfan2 we need a movie now that the bear is over

dualipa LEGEND 🤍

harryfan2 harry what are you doing here

TWITTER

TEXT BETWEEN HARRY AND YN

//

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yourinstagram first day of filming check !! hiyaaaa costar ⭐️ @harrystyles

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ynfan1 AHHH

jefezoff 🥰

harryfan1 ITS GETTING REAL

ynfan2 imagine going from one direction dan to harry’s co star

harrystyles Hiiiiiiii x

↳ harryfan2 he was giggling and kicking his feet while typing this

↳ ynfan3 they’re in love

gemmachan Love you both ❤️

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harrystyles Which Brings Me to You. Coming Soon.

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harryfan1 AHHHHH

annetwist ❤️

ynfan1 WHY DID HE CHOOSE THIS PIC

harryfan2 y’all it’s joever

alessando_michele 🍒🤍

harryfan3 those saying that they’re dating don’t know what a work relationship and friendship is

yourinstagram 🥹🥹🥹

ynfan2 i soooo ship this

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harryupdates Harry and YN on set of Which Brings Me to You!

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harryfan1 AHHH

ynfan1 i love them so bad

harryfan2 i can’t wait to see this movie GOD

ynfan2 MY FAIRYTALE COUPLE

harryfan3 FAVES

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yourinstagram today is the day !!! world premiere of which brings me to you 🥲🥲 love u all thanks for the support

picture by the costar, awkward pose by meeee

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ynfan1 AHHH GO BESTIE

kaiagerber love you both sm 🤍

harryfan2 HARRY TOOK THIS I CANT

mtv This is my roman empire

ynfan2 no biggie just harry taking pictures of her

harrystyles Amazing photographer, amazing pose x

↳ harryfan2 are we interrupting something?

↳ynfan3 he’s in love

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harrystyles Which Brings Me to You World Premiere. October, 2023.

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harryfan1 BABY

jefezoff 🙌🏻

ynfan1 oh he hot

yourinstagram excuse me u get credits on my pic but i don’t ??

↳ harrystyles Picture by the costar, charming face by my mum x

↳ harryfan1 HARRY 😭

↳ harryfan2 I LOVE HIM SO BAD

INTERVIEWS

//

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yourinstagram press day ! be ready because tons of content from me and @harrystyles annoying you about our movie is coming sooooooon 🥰

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ynfan1 this is the best day of my life

jefezoff I feel blessed

harryfan1 MY FAVORITE DUO ON EARTH

harrystyles We are charming, aren’t we?

↳ harryfan2 itsg harry has never been more active

annetwist ❤️

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harrystyles We took a Lie Detector Test. The results were pretty interesting. You can watching it in Vanity Fair’s Youtube channel now.

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harryfan1 HEEEELP

harryfan2 WHY DID HE CHOOSE THIS PIC HES SOOOOOO

annetwist ❤️

ynfan1 “have you ever had the hots for a co star before” THEY WEREN’T SNEAKY WITH THAT ONE

yourinstagram liar liar pants on fire

ynfan2 THEY’RE DEFINITELY DATING BYEEEEE

FANS VIA TWITTER

//

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yourinstagram in words of taylor swift: you’re my lover

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harrystyles

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[scarletwinterxx]

LOVE YOUR FICSS AHHH got me kicking my feet🥰 could i req for a bestfriends to lovers with dino! maybe where the members keep teasing him lol tyyy if you take this🫶🏼

hiiiii ~ so.... i got.... carried away?? hahah i was suppose to make it a cute short scenario but i loved it way tooooo much ugh i'm a sucker for bff to lovers trope so here we are😅😅 it's like if you combine mary's song and the alchemy (by tswift), that's how i would describe this fic

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The neon glow of Seoul’s streets reflects off the café window as you stir your latte, the warmth of the cup pressing against your palms. Across from you, Chan is slouched in his chair, one hand lazily swirling his iced latte, the other casually flicking a stray sugar packet at you.

“You good?” you ask, nudging his shin under the table.

He grins, that boyish smirk you’ve seen a thousand times. “Yeah, just thinking about Wonwoo-hyung. He said something dumb again.”

You snort at what he said making Chan chuckle, shaking his head. “He said everyone’s just waiting for us to realize we’re in love.”

You almost choke on your drink. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah. Apparently, Wonwoo-hyung, Seungkwan, and Vernon-hyung are betting on when it’ll happen.”

You blink at him. “They need new hobbies.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Dino exclaims, looking far too pleased that you’re on the same page. “But it got me thinking”

“That’s dangerous”

“Shut up,” he laughs, bumping his foot against yours. “I just don’t get why they think that. I mean, we’re best friends. That’s it.”

“Right?” You lean back, crossing your arms. “It’s not like we’re that close.”

He scoffs. “Exactly! I mean, sure, I always make sure you eat and never let you walk home alone, and you always text me to remind me to bring an umbrella when it rains—”

“Yeah, and we always share food and buy each other coffee without asking…” you mutter, looking at the toast you were sharing moments ago, he called dibs on the strawberries and you let him have it. You hate strawberries.

“And I always know what you’re thinking just by looking at you,” he adds.

You frown. “Okay, that’s normal, though.”

“Super normal.”

“Totally platonic.”

“Exactly.”

Silence settles between you, the sounds of the café humming in the background. Dino is staring at you, and you’re staring at him, and suddenly you’re both squinting like you’ve just tried to read the fine print of a sketchy contract.

“…Do we sound like a couple?” you ask hesitantly.

Dino tilts his head, considering. “Nah.”

“Right?”

“Right.”

Another beat of silence.

“…But if we were a couple, I’d totally be the better half,” he says, grinning. You kick his shin under the table

“Oh, please if anything, I would be the better half.”

Dino just laughs, shaking his head, and you both go back to your drinks like the conversation never happened.

The university field is still buzzing with excitement after the match, but your attention is on one person—Chan. He’s grinning, sweaty, and full of energy as he jogs toward you, clearly eager to hear your praise.

“You saw that, right?” he asks, eyes sparkling.

He plays for the university's soccer team. And you being bestfriend, has never missed a single game. ever.

“You think I didn’t?” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. “You were alright, I guess.”

“Alright?!” He gapes at you like you’ve just insulted his entire existence. “I carried this game.”

Before you can react, he reaches out and flicks your forehead his usual way of showing affection. You swat at his arm, but he just grins wider.

From behind you, Seungkwan sighs dramatically. “Seriously, how do you both not see it?”

You ignore him, focusing instead on the way Chan’s hand lingers on your wrist a little longer than necessary.

The restaurant is buzzing with life, the scent of sizzling meat filling the air as you, Chan, Vernon, and Seungkwan settle into your seats. Chan is busy grilling, as usual, because he claims he “doesn’t trust any of you with the meat.” You let him, happily reaching for a side dish while Vernon sips on his iced tea.

“You were a little too into the game today,” Vernon comments, glancing at you

You shrug. “I always cheer for Chan.”

Seungkwan snorts. “Yeah, and only for Chan.”

You’re about to argue when someone steps up to your table. You glance up, only to see a guy in a jersey from the opposing team standing there, smiling at you.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, noticed you cheering during the game. You seemed really into it.”

Chan’s hand pauses mid-air, chopsticks still holding a piece of meat

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you reply, not sure where this is going.

“I was wondering,” the player continues, shifting on his feet. “Would it be okay if I got your number?”

Silence.

Vernon raises an eyebrow. Seungkwan’s mouth falls open slightly, clearly ready to cause chaos. And Chan? Chan sets his chopsticks down very slowly.

You blink, caught off guard. “Oh. Um—”

“She’s good,” Chan says before you can even process an answer. His voice is light, but you know him too well. There’s something sharp underneath it.

The player looks at him, then back at you. “Oh—are you guys…?”

“Nope,” Seungkwan answers way too fast. Then he smirks. “But go on. I wanna see how this plays out.”

Chan shoots him a glare before turning back to the guy, forcing a smile. “She’s not interested.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Excuse me?”

Chan doesn’t even look at you. “Right?” he prompts, acting like this is a completely normal thing to do.

You open your mouth, then close it. Then look at the player, who is now shifting awkwardly under the weight of whatever weird tension is happening.

“…I mean, I guess I’m not?” you say, though you’re still trying to figure out why you let Chan answer for you.

The player sighs, nodding. “Got it. Well, it was worth a shot. Enjoy your dinner.”

As soon as he walks away, Seungkwan loses it.

“Oh my GOD,” he cackles, slapping the table. “Did you see yourself, Chan? You looked ready to throw hands.”

“I did not,” Chan grumbles, picking up his chopsticks again.

Vernon hums thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

You turn to Chan, arms crossed. “Care to explain what that was?”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “I just saved you from giving your number to some random guy. You’re welcome.”

Seungkwan whistles. “Possessive much?”

Chan glares. “I’m not possessive.”

“Dude, you almost turned that meat into charcoal the second he walked up,” Vernon points out.

You smirk, leaning closer. “Chan… were you jealous?”

He scoffs, eyes flicking to yours before quickly looking away. “Eat your food.”

You don’t push it, but as you take a bite, you notice his ears are very, very red.

Later when the four of you are done you leave the restaurant, full and still giggling from Seungkwan’s dramatic reenactment of Chan’s “alpha male” moment. Especially you. You're having way too much fun with this.

“So, Chan,” you drawl, walking beside him with a mischievous grin. “You never answered my question.”

He sighs, already looking exhausted. “What question?”

“The one about you being jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous.”

Vernon snickers. “Sure, man.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “So, if I had given that guy my number, you would’ve been totally fine with it?”

“Yep,” Chan replies too quickly, staring straight ahead.

Seungkwan gasps dramatically. “Liar.”

You smirk, stepping a little closer. “So if he had asked me out, you wouldn’t have cared at all?”

Chan exhales through his nose, his patience clearly wearing thin. You think you’ve won until he suddenly stops walking. Before you can react, he reaches for the hood of your jacket, yanks it over your head, and pulls the strings tight until only the tip of your nose is peeking out.

“CH—MMMPH!” You flail your arms, completely trapped in your own hoodie.

Vernon straight-up wheezes. Seungkwan is on the ground.

Chan steps behind you, places his hands firmly on your shoulders, and starts pushing you forward.

“There,” he says, smug. “Now you can’t tease me if you can’t see me.”

“LET ME OUT!” you shout, voice muffled.

“Nope.”

“I WILL END YOU.”

“Good luck with that,” he chirps, steering you like a malfunctioning shopping cart.

You struggle but Chan keeps a firm grip, easily guiding you down the street while you helplessly stomp forward.

“You’re such a child,” you grumble.

“And you’re annoying,” he replies. “So this is fair.”

You huff, but underneath it all, you’re grinning. Because no matter how ridiculous he is, no matter how much he denies it—Chan absolutely, definitely cares.

A couple of days passed and now you’re not speaking to Chan.

It started over something ridiculously small—so small that, if you really thought about it, you couldn’t even remember the exact reason it escalated. But what mattered was that it did.

One minute, you were bickering over something dumb, like him eating the last piece of tteokbokki when you clearly had your chopsticks ready to grab it. The next, you were snapping at each other, stubbornness clashing until you finally said, “You know what? Fine.” And then you stopped talking to him.

And because Chan is just as stubborn as you, he decided, Fine. Two can play that game.

So now, you’re both ignoring each other.

It’s been three days.

At first, it was just a cold shoulder situation. Him sitting on the opposite side of the group when you all hung out, you pretending he didn’t exist. But then, it turned into avoiding each other altogether. You didn’t text him. He didn’t text you. You saw him walking into a café the other day and literally turned around.

And now, everyone else has definitely noticed.

“Okay, what is going on?” Seungkwan asks, throwing his hands up.

You sip your drink calmly, acting unbothered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Vernon raises a brow. “You and Chan haven’t said a single word to each other since we all sat down.”

“And?” you say, playing with your straw.

Wonwoo, who’s been watching silently, smirks. “Oh, this is fun.”

From across the table, Chan scoffs. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”

Your eye twitches. Oh, so he does want to play this game?

“Same,” you reply smoothly. “Silence is peaceful.”

Seungkwan fake gags. “I hate this. I hate this. Fix it.”

“Seriously, what happened?” Vernon sighs, looking back and forth between the two of you

Chan shrugs, avoiding eye contact with you. “Nothing.”

You mimic his movement. “Nothing at all.”

Seungkwan claps his hands together. “Okay, I don’t know what kind of pride battle is happening here, but I hate being collateral damage. Fix. It.”

You ignore him, grabbing a fry from your plate. But as you do, Chan—who is apparently also reaching for a fry at the same time—accidentally brushes his fingers against yours.

It’s quick. Barely a second.

But it feels like a moment.

You both freeze.

Your brain says, Move your hand. But your hand? It stays right there. Chan pulls away first, clearing his throat. He grabs his drink and takes a very forced sip. The others are watching.

Wonwoo exchanges a glance with Vernon, who just shakes his head like he can’t believe this is happening. Seungkwan is straight-up vibrating with frustration.

“Are you guys seriously fighting over something dumb?” Seungkwan finally asks. “I swear to God, if this is about food—”

“It’s not about food,” you snap.

Chan scoffs. “Well, technically, it started with food.”

You glare at him. “I knew you did that on purpose.”

He crosses his arms. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Oh, so it was just a coincidence that you stole my tteokbokki right before I grabbed it?”

“Yes?”

The table erupts.

“OH MY GOD,” Seungkwan yells. “THIS WHOLE THING IS ABOUT FOOD?!”

Vernon leans back in his seat, covering his face. “This is a nightmare.”

Wonwoo actually laughs. “So, neither of you broke the silence first because of that?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “It’s the principle of it.”

Chan nods. “Exactly.”

Seungkwan groans, dragging his hands down his face. “You two are so dumb. Just apologize and move on.”

Silence. You glance at Chan. He glances at you but neither of you speaks.

“Oh, this is gonna take forever.”

Another day has passed. The silence is definitely something you're not used to but you went on with your life.

Today you had gym. The moment your gym professor announced that today’s class was going to be track, you felt impending doom settle in your bones. You were not built for this.

Running? Sure, in an emergency. But sprinting laps for fun? Absolutely not.

And of course, because life is so kind to you, disaster struck right when you were about to finish your second lap. One second, you were focused on not dying. The next, your foot caught on absolutely nothing (because the universe simply hates you), and you went down hard.

Pain shot up your ankle instantly, and you barely had time to process the embarrassment before your professor and a classmate rushed over.

"Are you okay?" your professor asked, already kneeling beside you

You winced, testing your foot. "Uh… no?"

Your classmate, a guy from your department, helped you up while you tried not to cry at how much your ankle hurt. Your professor sighed, already pulling out his phone. "Let's get you to the clinic."

So that’s how you ended up here.

Sitting on the clinic bed, holding an ice pack to your now-swollen ankle, wondering how you were going to get home later. Then, just as you were about to doze off from sheer exhaustion...

BANG!

The clinic door slammed open so hard it rattled on its hinges.

You nearly jumped out of your skin. The nurse at the desk let out a startled yelp. And standing in the doorway, panting like he’d just fought for his life, was none other than Lee Chan.

His hair was a mess, his hoodie was slipping off one shoulder, and he looked wrecked.

"Where is she?" he demanded between ragged breaths.

The nurse blinked. "Uh—"

Then he spotted you.

His eyes locked onto your ankle, wrapped in ice, and his whole body stiffened. In the next second, he rushed to your side, grabbing onto the edge of the bed as he caught his breath.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, voice still breathless.

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned. "Chan?"

"Yeah, it's me, obviously!" he snapped, still trying to breathe properly. "I ran across campus! Ran. For you. So start talking—why are you hurt?!"

You stared at him. "How did you even—"

"Vernon," he answered immediately. "Somehow, he found out before I did and called me, and now I’m here. So explain."

You hesitated, suddenly feeling… weird. The two of you were still ignoring each other. You hadn’t spoken in days. And yet, here he was, looking like he’d just sprinted a full marathon with zero hesitation just because you got hurt.

Your heart did something stupid.

"... I tripped."

Chan deadpanned. "You tripped?"

"Yes."

"On what?"

You cleared your throat. "...Air."

"You tripped on air?!" He dragged a hand down his face. "Oh my God."

You scowled, crossing your arms. "Look, it happened, okay? You don’t have to be so dramatic about it."

"Dramatic?" He gaped at you. "You injured yourself! Of course I’m dramatic!"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't ignore the way your chest felt warm. The nurse cleared her throat. "If you're done yelling at each other, she just has a mild sprain. No fracture. She just needs to rest it."

Chan let out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Okay. Good."

Then, without hesitation, he gently grabbed your ankle, adjusting the ice pack like it was the most natural thing in the world. You stiffened, watching him.

"You idiot," he muttered, shaking his head. "Who gets injured running on a track?"

"Me, apparently," you mumbled.

He sighed. "Of course it’s you."

Silence.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, how he hadn't hesitated to come running for you even after all the ignoring.

"...You didn't have to come," you muttered.

Chan scoffed, finally looking up at you. "Don't be stupid. Of course I did."

And just like that, your stupid heart did another stupid thing.

After that, Chan refuses to leave your side. The moment the nurse gives you clearance to leave, he slings your arm over his shoulder and practically carries you out of the clinic before you can even protest.

“Chan, I can walk,” you grumble, trying to wriggle out of his hold.

“Oh, really?” He looks down at you. “Go on, then. Walk.”

You press your lips together. Your ankle still throbs, and you know if you put weight on it, you’ll probably just collapse. But admitting that out loud? Never.

Chan smirks, already knowing. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You scowl. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he sing-songs, leading you toward the front of the campus.

You don’t know when he did it, but at some point, he called Wonwoo. Because by the time you both reach the parking lot, Wonwoo is already waiting by his car, arms crossed.

He looks between you and Chan, then sighs. “Do I even want to know what happened?”

Chan grins. “She tripped on air and almost died.”

You groan. “I did not almost die.”

“She has a sprained ankle,” Chan tells him, ignoring you completely. “So, obviously, we need a ride.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “We?”

Chan just nods like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. I have to make sure she gets home safe.”

You snort. “You just don’t want to go to your next class.”

Chan gasps, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “How dare you? I am a devoted best friend who—okay, yeah, I also don’t want to go to class.”

Wonwoo sighs. “Unbelievable.” But despite all his complaints, he still opens the car door for you, because at the end of the day, Chan is his not-so-secret favorite.

As Chan helps you into the car, you glance up at Wonwoo, smirking. “You know you can say no to him, right?”

Wonwoo shuts the door and deadpans, “No, I can’t.”

From the driver’s seat, he glares at Chan. “And he knows that.”

Chan just grins, victorious. “I absolutely do.”

By the time Wonwoo pulls up in front of your apartment, you’re still trying to process the absolute insanity that is Lee Chan.

“You are not staying over,” you say firmly, already reaching for the car door handle.

Chan, completely ignoring you, hops out of the car and immediately rushes to your side to help you out because, despite how annoying he is, he still refuses to let you walk on your own.

Wonwoo rolls down his window, smirking. “Have fun dealing with him.”

You scowl. “You could stop him, you know.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I could… but I won’t.” Then he turns to Chan. “Don’t burn her place down.”

Chan grins. “No promises!”

Wonwoo sighs like he’s questioning all of his life choices, then drives off, leaving you stuck with the human disaster next to you.

Chan slings your arm over his shoulder again, walking you toward the door. “Alright, let’s get you inside. Do you have food? Should I order something? Do you need pillows? A wheelchair? Life insurance?”

You groan. “Chan, you are not my nurse—”

“Yet here I am,” he says smugly, guiding you into the apartment. The moment you sit down on the couch, Chan kicks off his shoes and makes himself at home like he’s lived here his whole life.

Which, to be fair, he practically has.

He starts rummaging through your kitchen. “Okay, so what’s for dinner? Do you have anything edible?”

You glare at him. “How about you go home and eat there?”

He gasps, offended. “Wow. This is how you treat the person who ran across campus for you?”

You throw a pillow at him. “GO HOME.”

He catches it easily, tossing it onto the couch before coming over and sitting next to you. “Nope. Not happening.”

You sigh, leaning your head back. “Why are you like this?”

Chan shrugs. “Because you’re injured, and someone has to make sure you don’t do anything dumb again.”

You narrow your eyes. “You love calling me dumb, huh?”

He grins. “It’s because you are.”

You reach over to smack him, but he dodges, laughing.

Then, without warning, he stands up and claps his hands together. “Alright, let’s get you some food and then ice your ankle again.”

You stare at him.

And this is why everyone thinks the two of you are dating. Because, despite the relentless teasing, despite the arguing and the chaos that follows wherever you go—Chan is still Chan.

Caring. Attentive. There, always.

You sigh, finally giving up. “Fine. But you’re ordering.”

Chan grins, already pulling out his phone. “Knew you’d cave.”

You roll your eyes, but as he starts scrolling through food options, you can’t help but smile. Maybe having him around isn’t so bad.

Just as you’re about to get comfortable in bed, you hear Chan’s voice from the living room. At first, you assume he’s talking to himself—because honestly, he does that sometimes—but then you hear your mom’s name.

Your stomach drops.

Oh, no.

You push the door open just in time to hear him say “Yeah, she totally wiped out during gym class—sprained her ankle and everything.”

You gasp. “Chan, what the—”

He turns, holding up a finger to silence you while grinning like the menace he is. “Uh-huh. Exactly. She’s way too clumsy, Auntie. I keep telling her to be more careful, but does she listen? Nope.”

You limp toward him as fast as your injury allows. “Hang up! Right now!”

Chan dodges your grab like a trained professional and keeps talking. “No, no, she’s fine. I made sure of it. I called Wonwoo hyung to drive us home, wrapped her ankle properly, even made her eat dinner—” He pauses, then smirks. “Yeah, I am the best, aren’t I?”

You groan, flopping onto the couch in defeat. “I cannot believe you called my mom.”

Chan finally acknowledges you, holding out the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”

You glare. “I hate you.” You snatch the phone from his hand, pressing it to your ear. “Mom, I’m fine. I don’t know why Chan is making it sound like I barely survived.”

Your mother scoffs. “Because you’re you. Of course, I’m going to worry!”

You sigh. “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” she repeats. “If it weren’t for Chan, I wouldn’t have known at all!”

Chan smirks, leaning back on the couch. “You’re welcome.”

You glare at him, but your mom keeps going.

“You better listen to Chan and rest, okay? No unnecessary moving around!”

You groan. “Mom—”

“Promise me.”

You sigh. “Fine. I promise.”

“Good. Now give the phone back to Chan.”

“What? Why?”

Chan immediately reaches for the phone. “Because she likes me more.”

You slap his hand away but hand it over anyway. The moment he takes it, his entire tone changes. “Yes, Auntie? Oh, of course! I’ll make sure she rests. No funny business, I promise.”

You stare at him in horror. “You are such a suck-up.”

He waves you off, still charming your mother over the phone. “Yeah, I’ll stay over tonight just to make sure she doesn’t do anything dumb—”

“CHAN!”

He laughs but eventually wraps up the call, you scowl at him “I cannot believe you just did that.”

Chan shrugs, looking way too pleased with himself. “What can I say? Your mom adores me.”

You cross your arms. “You’re lucky my ankle is sprained, or I’d kick you out.”

A few days pass, and your ankle is mostly healed, which means Chan has finally stopped hovering like a mother hen.

Mostly.

(He still side-eyes you every time you walk too fast, but hey—progress.)

Now, though, you have another problem. Chan’s birthday is coming up. So is Valentine’s Day and because the universe apparently loves to make your life difficult, they’re only a few days apart.

You groan, flopping onto your bed as you scroll through your phone for ideas.

Something soccer-related? Too predictable.

Something music-related? He already has everything.

Something sentimental? Absolutely not.

You don’t even realize you’re pouting until you hear a familiar voice.

“What’s with that face?”

You jolt up. Chan is leaning against your doorframe, arms crossed, a very smug grin on his face.

You blink. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see you looking miserable.” He tilts his head. “What, you failing a test or something?”

You scoff. “Excuse you, I don’t fail tests.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

You scramble for an excuse. “Uh—thinking about what to eat.”

Chan snorts. “Wow. Must be so hard for you.”

"Fine I was thinking about what to get you for your birthday, what do you want?" You ask him

“A new soccer bag?”

“No.”

“Sneakers?”

“Nope.”

“A lifetime supply of banana milk?”

Chan actually pauses at that one, looking tempted. But then he shakes his head. “Nah.”

You groan, flopping onto his couch dramatically. “Chan. It’s your birthday. You have to want something.”

He smirks. “I do.”

You sit up immediately. “Okay, what? Tell me.”

He hesitates, then sighs, looking almost embarrassed. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“Oh, I’m definitely laughing now.”

Chan glares. “Never mind.”

“No, no, c’mon! Tell me!” You poke his arm. “What do you want?”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. Then, finally—after a ridiculous amount of dramatic silence—he mutters,

“Your brownies.”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

He shrugs, suddenly very interested in his hands. “Your brownies. The ones you bake sometimes.”

You stare at him, waiting for him to say more. That’s it? That’s what he wants? Not some expensive gift, not some rare collectible—just… brownies?

You snort. “You’re such a loser.”

Chan glares. “See? I knew you were gonna laugh!”

You grin. “I am laughing. But also—seriously? That’s all you want?”

He shrugs again. “Yeah. They’re my favorite.”

And okay, fine. Maybe that makes your heart do a tiny stupid little somersault. Instead, you stand up, stretching.

“Alright. If the birthday boy wants brownies, then the birthday boy gets brownies.”

Chan blinks. “Wait, really?”

You smirk. “Obviously. You think I’d deny you your wish for your birthday?”

“…Kinda, yeah.”

You grab a pillow and whack him with it.

Chan shows up at your place way too early for someone whose only birthday wish is brownies. You open the door, squinting. “Didn’t we agree on noon?”

He grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, but I got excited.”

You cross your arms. “You’re acting like I’m baking you a five-star gourmet meal and not just brownies.”

Chan gasps. “How dare you undermine the greatness of your brownies?”

You roll your eyes but step aside to let him in. He immediately makes himself at home, plopping onto the kitchen counter like he belongs there.

You narrow your eyes. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs. “Watching.”

“…Why?”

“Because I want to.”

You scoff. “Chan, it’s just brownies.”

“Exactly. My brownies. I need to make sure you don’t mess them up.”

You pick up a wooden spoon and point it at him. “You’re this close to getting kicked out.”

He grins. “No, I’m not.”

You sigh, shaking your head, and start gathering ingredients. The entire time, Chan stays glued to the counter, swinging his legs like an actual kid.

At one point, he even starts narrating. “And here we see the great baker in her natural habitat…”

You throw a marshmallow at him. “Shut up.”

He just laughs, completely unbothered.

But, honestly? The way his eyes light up every time you mix something, or pour the batter, or literally just exist is… kind of stupidly cute. You shove that thought way down.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you pull the brownies out of the oven.

Chan immediately tries to grab one.

You smack his hand away. “They’re hot, idiot.”

He pouts. “But it’s my birthday.”

You arch a brow. “And?”

He sighs dramatically, leaning back. “Wow. Some best friend you are.”

You roll your eyes but grab a fork, cutting off a tiny piece and blowing on it before holding it out.

Chan blinks. “Wait, you’re actually—?”

“Shut up and eat.”

He grins, leaning in to take the bite, and the second he does, his entire face lights up.

“Oh my God.” He looks so happy it’s ridiculous. “I forgot how good these are.”

You smirk. “Told you.”

Chan hums in satisfaction, still chewing. “Best birthday gift ever.”

And just like that, your stomach does that stupid flip again.

You ignore it. Instead, you grab a brownie for yourself and take a bite, leaning against the counter. “Happy birthday, loser.”

Chan, still grinning, nudges your shoulder. “Thanks, loser.”

You grab the brownies again, sticking a couple of candles in one. “Alright, birthday boy,” you say, lighting them up. “Make a wish.”

Chan chuckles but nods, clasping his hands together. He closes his eyes, his brows furrowing just slightly in thought. But then right before he blows out the candles his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

Your breath catches.

It’s only for a split second—just a moment of lingering eye contact—but it feels like something shifts.

Like maybe, just maybe, his wish has something to do with you.

And then the candles are out, the moment gone, and Chan is grinning like nothing happened. Chan leans back, watching the faint trail of smoke disappear from the extinguished candles. Then, with that smug-but-soft look of his, he says,

“This is the 26th birthday I’ve spent with you.”

You snort. “I mean, yeah. We’ve literally known each other since birth.”

Chan grins. “Exactly. That means I’ve never had a birthday without you.”

You roll your eyes. “That just means our moms were too obsessed with each other to celebrate separately.”

But Chan just shrugs. “Or maybe the universe knew I needed you.”

And just like that, your brain completely short-circuits.

You blink at him, your stomach doing that stupid flip again, and suddenly, you don’t know where to look. The worst part? He says it so casually. Like he isn’t out here dropping the most casually sentimental thing you’ve ever heard.

You clear your throat, forcing out a laugh. “Wow. That’s so cheesy. Who taught you that?”

Chan smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You grab a brownie and shove it into his mouth. “Stop talking.”

He just laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and chews happily.

And while he’s busy enjoying his food, you are left trying to process the very inconvenient warmth spreading through your chest.

After that moment with Chan, you tried to bury it in your mind and distract yourself with something else. So, naturally, you bury yourself in schoolwork.

Not that you want to—your professor kind of forces your hand when they assign a massive research project. But the only silver lining? You get partnered up with Mark Lee.

Yes, that Mark Lee.

The one who’s absurdly well-known on campus. The one who’s nice to everyone, always willing to help. The one who somehow juggles being an honor student, an athlete, and a musician all at once.

Basically, if people were ranked like K-pop idols, Mark would be in an A-list group with an unbreakable fanbase.

And now? He’s your project partner. Which is… fine. Great, even. Because Mark is cool, easy to work with, and always has some idea of what’s going on.

Somewhere across campus. Somehow Vernon found out maybe because he’s friends with Mark, but also because Vernon has a way of accidentally collecting information he never planned on having.

So, when he casually brings it up to Chan, he doesn’t expect a reaction.

“Yeah, I think they started their research today,” Vernon says, sipping his drink. “Mark was telling me they’re doing something on—”

“What?”

Vernon blinks. “Huh?”

Chan is frowning. “What do you mean they started their research?”

“I mean exactly that?” Vernon tilts his head. “Why?”

Chan crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowing. “She didn’t tell me about this.”

Vernon shrugs. “Maybe she forgot.”

Chan scoffs. “She doesn’t just forget things like this.”

Vernon watches him for a moment, then—because he is Vernon—he smirks. “Why? You jealous?”

Chan glares. “Shut up.”

But the way he immediately shoves a fry in his mouth—pointedly avoiding eye contact—tells Vernon everything he needs to know.

Meanwhile, you’re completely unaware of the conversation happening behind your back because, while Chan is sitting there having internal drama, you’re busy at the library, actually doing your work somewhere on campus with Mark.

Mark is surprisingly fun to work with. He’s got this easy-going energy that makes it impossible to be awkward around him. He listens, offers ideas, and never once makes you feel like you’re carrying the whole project alone.

At one point, while you’re deep in discussion, he suddenly grins.

“You know, I was kind of hoping I’d get partnered with you.”

You blink. “Wait, really? Why?”

Mark laughs. “Because you’re, like, insanely good at research. Plus, I figured it’d be fun.”

You tilt your head. “And how do you know I’m good at research?”

He shrugs. “Vernon”

Later Chan is walking around campus after his last class finished. Too lost in his own thoughts.

Chan is not the jealous type. Really, he isn’t.

But the second he hears Vernon say—so casually—that you and Mark have been spending time together, something in his brain just… short-circuits because why didn’t you tell him? You tell him everything. Even the stupid, mundane stuff like how your coffee order was wrong or how your neighbor’s cat was staring at you weirdly again.

So why didn’t this come up?

It’s not that he’s mad. He just… doesn’t like it and now, thanks to Vernon, he’s stuck thinking about it all day.

By the time you meet up with him after your classes, he’s already decided: He needs to casually bring it up.

(Casually.)

So, as you walk beside him, he tries to sound as neutral as possible.

“Sooo… how’s the research going?”

You glance at him, unaware of the ridiculous amount of effort he’s putting into sounding normal. “It’s fine. Why?”

Chan shrugs. “Just wondering.”

A beat.

Then, as if completely unaware of the landmine she’s stepping on, you say—

“Mark’s actually really nice. I get why Vernon’s friends with him.”

Oh, come on.

Chan swallows. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. He’s easy to work with. He’s, like… I don’t know. Just a chill, friendly guy, y’know?”

Chan forces a smile. “Right. Chill. Friendly.”

You glance at him, frowning slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah! Totally!” (Lie.)

You squint. “You’re making that face.”

Chan panics. “What face?”

“That face you make when you don’t like something but don’t wanna say it.”

Chan scoffs. “What? No. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You just stare. Chan sweats. Then... because he’s actually losing this battle... he finally gives in and mutters,

“…Why didn’t you tell me you got partnered with Mark?”

You blink. “Huh?”

Chan shrugs, too casually. “I mean, usually you tell me about this stuff.”

You tilt your head, genuinely confused. “I dunno. I guess I didn’t think it was a big deal?”

Chan scoffs before he can stop himself. “Right. Totally not a big deal.”

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, what is your problem?”

Chan exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Really? Because you sound like you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t!”

A few seconds pass before you smile at him, “Oh my God. That’s what this is about?”

Chan scowls. “What do you mean ‘that’s what this is about?’”

You laugh. “You’re jealous.”

Chan chokes. “WHAT?!”

You grin. “Oh, this is amazing. You’re actually jealous.”

“I—no! I’m not!”

“You so are.”

“I’M NOT!”

You just keep grinning and Chan just keeps suffering. Because, yeah. Maybe he is a little jealous. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of someone else getting your time and attention.

You nudge him playfully. "Chan, it's just schoolwork."

He scoffs, still not looking at you. "Still."

You grin. "Okay, okay, from now on, I solemnly swear to tell you about every single homework, every test, every research project I have."

Chan rolls his eyes. "You’re so dramatic."

You smirk. "Oh no, I'm serious. Next time I get assigned a two-page essay, you will be the first to know. If I have a pop quiz, you will hear about it immediately. If I even think about studying, I’ll text you."

Chan groans. "I regret saying anything."

You laugh. "Nope, too late. You signed up for this."

He shakes his head, finally glancing at you with the smallest smile. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” you say, looping your arm through his, “you’re still here.”

Chan sighs, letting you drag him along. "Unfortunately."

But the way his fingers lightly squeeze your arm?

Yeah. He doesn't mind one bit.

The next day, you meet up with Mark at the library as planned. He’s already there when you arrive, flipping through research papers with that easygoing, friendly energy he’s known for.

“Hey,” he greets with a grin. “Ready to be academically tortured?”

You laugh. “Oh, absolutely.”

The two of you get to work, sifting through sources, bouncing ideas off each other. You’re making solid progress when, about an hour in, your phone buzzes.

Chan: Having fun with your new research husband?

You snort so loudly Mark looks up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, typing back a response.

You: Wow, someone’s checking in? Cute. Chan: I’m not checking in. I’m just making sure you didn’t forget your REAL best friend exists.

You roll your eyes, but your smile lingers as you turn back to work.

By the time you finish and say goodbye to Mark, it’s dark outside. Your legs are stiff from sitting too long, and all you want is food and maybe a nap.

You check your phone—no new messages from Chan since earlier.

Weird. Usually, he at least texts about what he’s doing. Without thinking too much about it, you head toward your usual café. And sure enough there he is.

Chan is sitting by the window, a drink in front of him, scrolling through his phone. He looks normal. Unbothered. But when you walk in, his eyes immediately flick up to meet yours, like he was waiting.

You grin, sliding into the seat across from him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Wow. You survived the date.”

You laugh. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes. “It was schoolwork, oh jealous one.”

“I am not jealous.”

“Mmm.”

Chan glares. “Didn’t you say you were busy tonight?”

“I was,” you say, “but now I’m free. So lucky you, I can spend the rest of Valentine’s Day with my real best friend.”

Chan blinks. His grip on his cup tightens for a fraction of a second. Then, casually, he mutters, “So you do care.”

You snort. “Obviously. I can’t let you wallow alone on the most romantic day of the year.”

He sighs dramatically. “And here I thought I’d finally be free from your annoying presence.”

You grin. “Never.”

Chan just shakes his head, but he gestures toward the counter. “Go order. I already know you’re gonna steal my food.”

You laugh and head up to order, feeling lighter. What you don’t see is the small, almost relieved smile Chan has as he watches you go.

After ordering you slide back into the seat, but instead of sitting across from him you plop down right beside him. Close enough that your arm brushes against his.

Chan pauses mid-sip of his drink, side-eyeing you. “…What are you doing?”

You blink up at him innocently. “Giving you attention.”

His eyes narrow. “Why?”

You grin. “Because I know you’ve been sulking all day.”

Chan scoffs, setting his cup down with an unnecessary amount of force. “I have not been sulking.”

You hum. “Mmm. And denial is river in Egypt” You shake your head, resting your chin on his shoulder dramatically. “Well, since my not-jealous best friend has been neglected all day, I’m here now.”

Chan rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the way his body relaxes slightly. “…Took you long enough.”

You nudge him. “Aww, you missed me.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I really didn’t.”

You grin, lifting your head. “So, what are we doing for the rest of the night? I assume you have no plans with some mystery Valentine?”

Chan gives you a look. “If I had one, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“Ouch.”

He snickers, nudging your knee with his. “You’re the one who ditched me today.”

You sigh dramatically. “And I have seen the error of my ways.” You gesture to yourself. “That’s why I’m here now, making up for it.”

Chan hums, pretending to think. “…Alright. I’ll allow it.”

You giggle. “How gracious of you.”

He smirks, leaning back against the seat. “You do owe me, though.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Chan tilts his head toward you, eyes glinting. “Yeah. For every hour you spent with Mark today, you owe me double in quality time.”

Your jaw drops. “Double?!”

“Yep.” He stretches his arms behind his head smugly. “You better clear your schedule.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Chan, you’ve been hogging my time for the past 26 years and no one’s complaining.”

“That’s different.”

“Oh? How?”

Chan shrugs. “I have dibs.”

“Dibs?! On my entire life?”

He nods, completely serious. “Obviously.”

You laugh, nudging his shoulder. “You are ridiculous.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You know, I could’ve had plans.”

You give him a look. “Chan. If you had plans, you wouldn’t be sitting in our usual café, waiting for me to show up.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Then he sighs, slumping in defeat. “…Okay, fine. Maybe I was waiting for you.”

You smirk in victory. “Knew it.”

Chan rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans back against the booth, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“You know,” he mutters, “26 years is a long time.”

You nod. “Yep. And you’ve had me all to yourself.”

He hums. “Guess that’s why it felt weird today.”

Your smirk falters slightly. “…Weird how?”

Chan shrugs, playing with the lid of his cup. “I dunno. Just—off. Like something was missing.”

You stare at him, heart doing something stupid. Again. Because it’s just Chan. Your best friend. The person who’s always been there, in sync with you like it’s second nature.

But right now, under the dim café lights, with his fingers absentmindedly fidgeting and his voice softer than usual…

It feels like something else.

Like something more.

You clear your throat, forcing a grin. “Well, lucky for you, I’m here now.”

Chan glances at you, then smiles. Small, but warm.

“Yeah,” he says. “You are.”

Chan is dying.

Okay, maybe that’s dramatic, but come on.

Coach ran them extra hard today, and his legs feel like lead. He barely had time to grab his stuff before running out of the locker room—because the moment he saw your text saying, “At the café near campus,” he was already out the door.

And now, standing outside the café, sweaty and exhausted, he immediately spots you through the window. You’re at a small table, sipping on an iced drink, scrolling through your phone.

And sitting across from you?

Mark.

Chan stops dead in his tracks.

Oh. It’s him again.

His grip tightens around the strap of his sports bag. He tells himself to be rational. You and Mark are literally just research partners. You even told him that but that doesn’t stop the annoyance bubbling up in his chest as he watches you laugh at something Mark says.

Taking a deep breath, Chan pushes the door open.

The little bell above the entrance chimes, and when you look up, your face immediately brightens.

“Chan!”

Mark turns to glance at him too, offering a polite nod.

Chan doesn’t even acknowledge him.

Instead, he plops himself into the empty seat next to you—not across, because that would leave Mark sitting across from both of you, and he refuses to make this feel like some group bonding activity.

You blink at him. “Wow. You look rough.”

Chan exhales heavily, dropping his bag to the floor. “Gee, thanks.”

You giggle, pushing your drink toward him. “Here, you can have some”

Chan takes a long sip, shooting a triumphant look at Mark over the rim of the straw. Mark, to his credit, looks completely unbothered.

Chan hates him.

“So,” you say, turning back to Mark, “you were saying?”

Mark nods. “Yeah, I was thinking we should finalize our thesis outline by this weekend.”

Chan immediately cuts in. “Oh, this weekend?” He tilts his head. “Didn’t you say you were busy this weekend?”

You frown. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

“No, I didn’t?”

“You definitely did.”

You stare at him for a second before realization dawns. “Ohhh. You mean your game?”

Chan shrugs. “Well, yeah. You always watch.”

That was not meant to sound like an accusation, but it kind of came out like one. Mark raises an eyebrow, but wisely chooses to sip his drink instead of commenting.

You sigh. “Chan, it’s just research. I can do both.”

Chan hums in response, taking another sip of your drink. He knows he’s being a little ridiculous. But the thing is Mark is too nice. Too polite. Too unbothered by Chan’s presence.

And for some reason, that pisses him off.

You, completely oblivious, nudge him. “Why are you acting weird again?”

Chan scoffs. “I’m not acting weird.”

Mark snorts.

Chan glares at him.

Mark glances between you and Chan, his expression unreadable. Then, casually, he tilts his head and asks, “Should I go?”

You blink. “Huh? Why?”

Chan, who was mid-sip of your drink, almost chokes. Yes, Mark. Please go.

Mark shrugs. “I mean…” He gestures vaguely at Chan. “Seems like I’m interrupting something.”

You frown. “What? No, you’re not—”

Chan, at the exact same time, goes, “Yeah, maybe.”

Silence.

You whip your head around to stare at Chan while Mark raises an eyebrow, amused.

Chan clears his throat, suddenly realizing he’s about to get murdered. “I mean, you know,” he backtracks quickly, “if you have to go, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Mark just grins, sipping his drink like he didn’t just blow up Chan’s entire existence.

Mark stands, grabbing his bag. “Well, I’ll head out then. See you in class.”

You nod, smiling. “Yeah, see you!”

Chan leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah, bye.”

Mark pauses just before turning away, glancing back at the two of you with a very amused expression. “Oh, by the way—if I don’t reply later, it’s ‘cause I’m picking my girlfriend up.”

Silence.

Chan blinks.

You blink.

Mark just smiles and gives Chan a little pat on the shoulder. “Take care, man.”

Then he walks off, leaving devastation in his wake. You slowly turn to look at Chan, eyes wide. “Did he just—”

Chan stares blankly at the table. Processing.

“…You were sulking,” you say, voice shaking with laughter. “You were jealous—”

“I was not,” Chan says immediately.

You cackle. “You were so jealous—”

“I was not!”

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, grabbing his arm. “And for what?”

Chan groans, dropping his head onto the table. “I hate him.”

You pat his back, still dying of laughter. “At least now you know you were literally competing with nobody.”

Chan lifts his head just enough to squint at you. “Shut up.”

You grin. “Make me.”

Chan groans again, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You shake your head, beaming. “Not a chance.”

The walk home is quiet—well, mostly quiet, aside from your occasional giggles at Chan’s expense. He pretends not to hear them. It’s fine. He deserves this but as the two of you turn onto your street, you suddenly stop walking.

Chan takes a few more steps before realizing you’re not beside him anymore. He turns back and sees you standing there, arms wide open.

He squints. “What… are you doing?”

You tilt your head, like it’s obvious. “You looked like you needed a hug.”

Chan blinks. “What?”

You wiggle your fingers at him. “Come on.”

Chan stares at you.

It’s not like you’ve never hugged before—you guys grew up together. But something about you standing there, arms stretched out just for him, makes his chest feel… weird.

And maybe it’s because of how stupid he feels about the whole Mark thing. Or because you’ve been making fun of him all day.

Or maybe it’s just because you always know exactly what he needs.

Chan sighs. “This is dumb.”

You grin. “And yet, you’re already moving.”

He grumbles under his breath but steps forward anyway, letting you wrap your arms around him. Maybe he did need this.

Your warmth seeps through his hoodie, and without thinking, he buries his face into your shoulder, exhaling softly.

You squeeze him a little tighter. “See? Was that so hard?”

Chan rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go. “Shut up.”

You laugh, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Never.”

And just like that, the weight in his chest feels a little lighter.

Chan barely makes it through his front door before he’s pulling out his phone. He flops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment before dialing Vernon.

It rings twice before Vernon picks up. “What’s up?”

Chan sighs, rubbing his face. “I think something’s wrong with me.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in the most casual, bored tone, Vernon goes, “So you finally realize it.”

Chan frowns, sitting up. “Wait, what?”

Vernon hums like he’s not just blowing up Chan’s entire world. “Took you long enough.”

Chan blinks. “Took me long enough for what?”

Vernon sighs, like this is painfully obvious. “To realize you like her, dude.”

Chan chokes. “I—what?!”

Vernon laughs. “Oh, come on. You sulked over Mark for days. You act like she’s your entire world. You’re literally on the phone with me right now calling me out of nowhere because don’t know what to do with yourself.”

Chan freezes.

Vernon keeps going, completely unbothered. “You like her, man. Have for a while, probably. Honestly, it’s funny you’re only figuring it out now.”

Chan stares at the ceiling. His brain is short-circuiting.

“Chan?”

Chan swallows. “...Holy shit.”

Vernon chuckles. “Yup.”

Chan groans, collapsing back onto his bed. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

Vernon hums, like he’s thinking. “I don’t know… maybe do something about it?”

Chan groans again. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Vernon laughs. “No, man. This is just the beginning.”

The stadium lights cast a bright glow over the field, illuminating the players as they jog back toward the sidelines for halftime. The crowd is buzzing with excitement, but Chan?

Chan is looking for you.

He spotted you the second you arrived—rushing into the stands, slightly out of breath, still in your meeting outfit, clearly freezing because of course you forgot your jacket.

Chan huffs, running straight past his teammates and into the locker room.

“Yo, where are you going?” one of them calls after him.

“Be right back!” he shouts over his shoulder, already digging through his locker.

He finds his jacket in a heap with his other stuff, grabs it, and runs back out before anyone can say anything. You’re sitting on the bleachers, rubbing your arms, trying to look like you’re not turning into a popsicle.

“Are you serious?” Chan says as he reaches you, already draping his jacket over your shoulders.

You blink up at him. “What?”

He sighs, crouching down in front of you so you’re at eye level. “It’s freezing.”

You grin sheepishly. “Yeah, but I made it.”

Chan scowls, zipping the jacket up for you. “You could’ve at least brought something.”

“I was in a rush!” you argue. “Didn’t wanna miss your game!”

Chan pauses.

He’s so busy being annoyed that you forgot your jacket, he almost forgets that you ran here straight from your meeting, just so you wouldn’t miss this.

His lips press together, and instead of scolding you again, he just pulls the hood up over your head, gently adjusting it so it covers your ears.

“…Just stay warm, okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, smiling. “Okay.”

He rolls his eyes but jogs back onto the field, suddenly way more determined than before.

Because now?

Now he’s really got something to win for.

You see it happen—one second, Chan’s dribbling up the field, focused, quick on his feet. The next, an opponent slams into him way too hard, sending him crashing to the ground.

Your heart stops.

“Hey!” you shout, already moving before you can think.

Chan's tough. He knows how to take a hit. But that was too much. your hands ball into fists as you march down the stands, ready to do God-knows-what to the other player, but before you can get very far, two hands clamp down on your shoulders.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Vernon says, physically holding you bac

You struggle against his grip. “Did you see that?!”

“Yes,” Vernon sighs. “And so did the ref, so sit down”

“Let me go, I just wanna talk,” you lie, glaring daggers at the guy who knocked Chan over

Wonwoo, sitting beside Seungkwan, lifts a brow. “Yeah, I don’t believe that.”

Seungkwan nods solemnly. “She’s about to ruin that man’s career.”

“Or his life,” Wonwoo adds

“I should!” you snap. “Did you see the way he slammed into Chan?! He didn’t even go for the ball!”

Vernon grunts as you try to lunge forward again. “Okay, nope, that’s enough violence for today.”

You huff, crossing your arms as you watch Chan sit on the bench, stretching his legs. He doesn’t look hurt. More annoyed than anything

“Relax,” Vernon mutters, finally loosening his grip on you. “Chan’s fine. He just needs a minute.”

You sigh, watching as Chan gets back up, shaking out his arms. He glances toward the stands, spots you, and gives you a little nod like he knows exactly what just happened.

You nod back.

He smiles.

Yeah. That guy is lucky Vernon was holding you back.

The game ends with a win, and as soon as the whistle blows, you’re already making your way down the stands. By the time you reach the field, Chan is grinning, sweaty, and very pleased with himself.

But before he can say anything, you grab his face, squishing his cheeks between your palms

“Are you okay?!” you demand, inspecting him like he’s a fragile antique.

Chan blinks at you, lips puffed from how you’re holding his face. “Mmmf—I’mm ffine—”

“Are you sure?” You narrow your eyes, turning his face side to side. “Nothing hurts? No bruises? No internal injuries?”

He pulls your hands off his face, laughing. “I promise, I’m fine.”

You scoff, unconvinced. “I almost fought someone for you, you know.”

“I know.” Chan grins. “I saw Vernon holding you back.”

Vernon, who’s just approaching with Seungkwan and Wonwoo, smirks. “Yeah, she was this close to committing a felony.”

Chan snorts. “I believe it.”

“I should have, honestly,” you mutter. “That guy slammed into you for no reason.”

“He’s just bitter we were winning,” Chan shrugs, tossing his arm over your shoulder. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“You matter,” you grumble, still clearly not over it.

Chan freezes for a fraction of a second.

Then, with the smuggest grin, he nudges you. “Aww, you care about me.”

You roll your eyes. “Unfortunately.”

Chan just keeps grinning, pulling you closer as the five of you walk off the field. “Let’s go eat. I think our future convict here needs to blow off some steam.”

You sigh. “If I ever do fight someone for you, you better appreciate it.”

Chan just laughs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Oh, I would.”

After the game and grabbing dinner with the others. You and Chan walk side by side, the night quiet except for the occasional passing car and the sound of your footsteps on the pavement. You can’t help but glance at him again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask for what has to be the tenth time.

Chan lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t believe me, huh?”

You shrug. “I just… I worry.”

His laughter dies down a little, replaced by something softer. Something fond.

“You’re cute when you do that,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Your face warms. “Shut up.”

“I mean it.” He grins. “But I promise—nothing hurts, I’m all good. Really.”

You study his face, searching for any sign of discomfort, any hidden pain he’s trying to play off. But there’s nothing. Just Chan, looking at you with that annoyingly charming smile.

“…Fine,” you mutter, finally giving in.

Chan tilts his head, watching you for a moment before he asks, “Do you need a hug?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“You’ve been worrying all night,” he says with a knowing smile. “Do you need a hug?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “I don’t—” nut before you can finish, Chan steps closer and wraps you up in his arms. Warm, solid, him.

Your face immediately finds his shoulder. “I didn’t say yes.”

He chuckles, his chest rumbling against yours. “Yeah, but you also didn’t say no.”

You stay like that for a second, the cold forgotten, the streetlights casting a soft glow around you. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

“…Okay, maybe I did need a hug,” you admit, voice muffled.

Chan laughs again, his chin resting lightly on your head. “Told you.”

Chan’s arms tighten around you just a little, like he knows you need this, even if you won’t say it out loud. The night air is cold, but he’s warm—steady in a way that makes your shoulders finally relax.

He leans down slightly, voice soft, just for you. “I’m okay,” he whispers.

You feel it more than you hear it—the quiet reassurance, the way he’s always quick to put you at ease. Your fingers tighten slightly on the back of his hoodie. “…You better be.”

He smiles against your hair. “You really like worrying about me, huh?”

You sigh dramatically. “I don’t like it. You make me.”

Chan chuckles, and you swear you feel his laugh more than you hear it. “Noted.”

He doesn’t pull away just yet. He lets you hold on, lets you breathe. And when you finally do pull back, he’s looking at you with that same too-soft gaze.

“Better now?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, but the small nod you give him doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Good,” he murmurs.

And just like that, with the weight of the night feeling a little lighter, you keep walking—Chan’s hand brushing against yours the whole way home.

“I’m fucked.”

Vernon, who had been peacefully scrolling through his phone, barely glanced up. “Uh… why?”

Chan opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

Then he groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Because. I like her.”

Now, that got Vernon’s attention. He locked his phone and turned fully to face him, eyebrows raised. “You just realized this?”

Chan threw his arms up. “I didn’t—I mean, I did, but not like—like this.”

Vernon stared. “Like what?”

Chan looked completely distressed, gripping his hair like the weight of the universe had just crashed onto his shoulders. “Like—I see her all the time and it’s normal. It’s us. But last night, when she hugged me—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply.

Vernon’s lips twitched. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Shut up!” Chan groaned again. “It’s different now. I felt different. And I keep thinking about it and—” He turned to Vernon, his expression so genuinely confused. “Why the hell does my chest feel weird?”

Vernon gave him a look. “Chan.”

“What?”

Vernon sighed, shaking his head. “You’re so late to your own love story, bro.”

Chan frowned. “What—”

“Everyone knew,” Vernon continued. “Seungkwan, Wonwoo, me. Your moms, dude. Everybody saw this coming.”

Chan looked genuinely offended. “No one told me?!”

Vernon deadpanned. “Told you? You grew up with her. How did you not know?”

Chan was still reeling, sitting there like his entire life had just been rewritten in real time. His best friend. The girl who had been by his side for 26 years. The person he’d trusted more than anyone.

He liked you. No—he was in love with you.

And then, like the universe was out to personally ruin him, you appeared. Literally skipping across the courtyard, beaming like the happiest person alive, your eyes instantly finding his like they always did.

And just like that, the world slowed down.

Chan swore he stopped breathing.

The way the sun hit your face just right, the way your hair bounced with every skip, the way you waved like you hadn’t seen him in years when in reality, it had been less than 24 hours—

He was so done for.

"Chan!" you called, finally reaching them, breathless and so effortlessly beautiful it made his head spin.

And suddenly, all he could think about was—

How had he not noticed this before?

How had he been so blind?

You grinned, practically glowing. “Guess what?”

Chan blinked. Right. Words. He needed words.

Vernon, still beside him, smirked knowingly. That traitor.

“Uh—what?” Chan finally managed, his voice a little too tight.

You rocked on your heels, still smiling. “Mark and I finally finished our research paper! I am so free.”

Chan was barely processing the words. He was too busy looking at you, at the way your nose scrunched when you were excited, at how you were standing so close, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He swallowed hard. “T-That’s… great.”

You tilted your head, squinting at him. “You okay?”

Vernon snorted.

Chan stiffened. “I—I’m fine.”

Lies. He was not fine.

Because now, standing there, looking at you like this—like he was seeing you for the first time—one single, undeniable thought hit him like a truck:

He was completely in love with you.

And he was absolutely doomed.

He didn't say anything. He was still your Chan. Your bestfriend. But there are moments when he makes your heart skip a few beats, leaving you all flustered.

You’re standing between the tall shelves of the library, flipping through the pages of a book, when you feel it. Someone standing just a little too close behind you. Before you can turn around, a weight settles on your shoulder.

Chan.

His chin rests there like it belongs, his voice low and lazy in your ear. “Whatcha reading?”

You nearly drop the book.

“Jesus, Chan,” you hiss, pressing a hand to your chest. “Do you have to sneak up on people like that?”

He chuckles but doesn’t move away. If anything, he shifts just slightly, his warmth pressing against your back. “It’s not sneaking. You just weren’t paying attention.”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “I was focused.”

“Same thing.” He tilts his head, glancing at the book in your hands. “So? What’s got you so absorbed that you didn’t even notice your best friend coming to find you?”

You swallow, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he is.

“This,” you say, holding up the book between you.

He hums, reaching around you to take it, his fingers brushing against yours. Your breath catches.

“Boring,” he announces after a quick scan, grinning as he hands it back.

You scoff. “You didn’t even read it.”

“Didn’t have to. Your face says it all.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart is hammering. This is just Chan, you tell yourself. He’s always been touchy, always been playful.

But lately, it feels… different.

You clear your throat. “What are you doing here anyway?”

He shrugs. “Saw your text that you were studying, figured I’d come keep you company.”

You glance up at him, and for a second, something warm flickers in his gaze before he schools his expression back to his usual easygoing smile.

Chan doesn’t say much after that hr just follows you back to the table, plopping down beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You try to focus on your work, but it’s impossible when he’s right beside you, radiating warmth.

“What?” you finally ask, glancing at him.

He blinks, as if he hadn’t even realized you were looking. “What?”

“You’re just… sitting there.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. You said you were finishing up, so I’m waiting.”

You narrow your eyes. “And that’s all?”

He grins. “What else would I be doing?”

You don’t have an answer for that, so you roll your eyes and turn back to your notes. There goes your heart doing that thing again.

You keep it to yourself for a while. You don’t know how to bring it up, or if you even should. It’s just… a mess in your head—your best friend, your always-there person, and now this whole new feeling you don’t know how to deal with.

But Chan? He’s really not helping. He does things like when you’re crossing the street together, and he just grabs your hand. Or when you’re walking home late, and you don’t even get a chance to complain about the cold because he’s already draping his jacket over your shoulders. Then, without asking, he zips it up for you, tugging the collar up so it shields your neck.

“There,” he says, satisfied. “Better.”

You nod dumbly, gripping the sleeves.

You’re trying so hard to act normal, but he’s making it impossible. Because every time he does something like this, you feel it—the way your heart jumps, the way warmth pools in your stomach, the way you suddenly have to remind yourself to breathe.

And the worst part?

He does it so casually, like he has no idea what he’s doing to you.

That was one of the most intense matches you’d ever sat through.

Your fingers are still clenched into your jacket sleeves, your heart still hammering from the last few minutes of the game. It had been a close one—too close. The score had been tied until the very last moment, when Chan made the final play, twisting through defenders with the kind of sharp, practiced movement that had the entire crowd holding its breath.

And then—goal.

The stadium erupted. Cheers, chants, the entire team practically tackling each other in celebration. The air was electric, filled with so much adrenaline you could feel it buzzing under your skin.

But Chan?

He didn’t care about the noise, or the people, or anything else happening around him. Because the moment the whistle blew, the moment victory was secured he turned. His eyes searched the stands, frantic and determined, scanning every face, every row—until they found you.

And then he was running.

Your breath caught as he sprinted toward you, weaving past teammates and coaches like they weren’t even there. You froze for half a second—then melted.

His body was warm, even through his jersey damp with sweat, his heartbeat still racing under your cheek. He smelled like the field, like grass and effort and something distinctly him. His arms stayed firm around you, like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon.

“I knew you’d be here,” he murmured, his voice slightly breathless, and you felt his smile against your hair.

“Where else would I be?” you mumbled back, your hands gripping the fabric of his jersey.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and the intensity in his gaze made your stomach flip. His eyes were shining, excitement and relief and something else swirling in them, something you couldn’t quite name.

You just stood there, still feeling the ghost of Chan’s hug around you, your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

You had no idea what just happened but you knew one thing for sure. It was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t feel the same.

Just as the team was pulling him into their celebration, just as you thought he’d be too distracted by the victory, Chan did something that completely knocked the air from your lungs.

He turned back.

His eyes found yours again, cutting through the chaos like nothing else mattered. He took a step closer, placed his hands on your shoulders then, softly, gently, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

The world stopped.

His lips lingered for a second longer than necessary, like he wasn’t in a rush to pull away. And when he finally did, he rested his forehead against yours for the briefest moment, eyes still closed, his breath warm against your skin.

Then, with a small smile, he whispered, “Thank you for always being here.”

And just like that, he was gone—yanked back into the mass of his teammates, laughter and cheers swallowing him whole.

But you?

You were frozen in place, gripping the front of your jacket like it could somehow hold you together, like it could somehow stop the way your heart was pounding against your ribs.

Chan had taken his time in the locker room, letting the adrenaline from the game settle. He changed into a fresh hoodie and sweatpants, ran a towel through his damp hair, and finally slung his bag over his shoulder.

He expected the field to be empty when he walked back out, expected the stands to be deserted and the night to be quiet—everyone had left by now but you were still there.

Standing alone in the middle of the field, arms wrapped around yourself against the chilly night air, looking up at the sky.

He took a deep breath and walked toward you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold standing out here,” he called out, his voice cutting through the quiet.

You turned at the sound of his voice, your expression unreadable. But when he got closer, he noticed the way your fingers were gripping your sleeves—the same way they did when you were nervous, or thinking too hard about something.

“You didn’t go with the others?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I… just wanted to stay here for a little while.”

Something was different.

The way you were looking at him—the way you weren’t looking away.

The way the silence between you wasn’t awkward, but heavy, like something was waiting to be said.

And then you took a small step closer.

“You really meant it, didn’t you?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Chan swallowed. “Meant what?”

You gave him a look—one that told him you weren’t going to let him play dumb.

“Everything,” you said. “The way you look at me. The way you act around me. The way you kissed me—” You stopped, visibly flustered, then corrected yourself. “—kissed my forehead.”

Chan felt his heart trip over itself.

“I—” He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. I meant it.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you. The girl he’d grown up with. The person who knew him better than anyone else. The one who had always been by his side, no matter what.

And suddenly, he felt like an idiot for ever thinking he could hide it. The world could’ve ended right then and there, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

Because you—you—were looking at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And he knew, without a doubt, that he had never, ever been happier.

You took a small breath, looked at him, and softly said,

“I need a hug.”

His stomach flipped, he didn’t even hesitate he closed the distance between you in a second, arms wrapping around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head as he pulled you in.

Chan exhaled slowly, resting his chin against the top of your head. He felt you sigh against his chest, your arms tightening around his waist, like you weren’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

One second, he was looking at you, heart racing, the realization sinking in that this was real, that you were real, and the next—

He kissed you.

It was instinctive, like muscle memory, like something he was always meant to do. His lips barely brushed yours before he pulled back, eyes wide, breath shaky, as if he was waiting for you to push him away, to laugh it off, to pretend it never happened.

But you didn’t.

Instead, before he could say anything—before he could even process it—you grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him right back in.

Chan barely had time to gasp before your lips were on his again, firmer this time, more sure, like you had been waiting for this, too.

And God, if that wasn’t enough to completely wreck him.

His hands found your waist again, fingers gripping tightly as he kissed you back without hesitation, letting himself get lost in you, in the way you fit against him, in the way your lips moved with his like you’d done this a hundred times before.

Like you should have done this a hundred times before.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless, foreheads resting against each other, the only sound between you the quiet hum of the night and the pounding of your hearts.

Chan let out a shaky laugh. “So… are we still pretending we don’t know what this is?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, but the small, breathless smile on your lips gave you away. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

Chan grinned. “Gladly.”

BONUS SCENE:

“Pay up,” Seungkwan whispered, holding out his hand expectantly.

Vernon groaned, fishing out a few bills from his wallet and slapping them into Seungkwan’s palm. “I really thought they’d take another year.”

Wonwoo, leaning casually against the bleachers with his arms crossed, smirked. “Nah. Chan’s been a goner since middle school. This was inevitable.”

Seungkwan grinned, smug. “Told you. The universe had this scripted ages ago.”

Down on the field, completely oblivious to their audience, you and Chan were still lost in each other, exchanging quiet words and stolen kisses under the stadium lights.

Vernon shook his head with a sigh. “Do we tell them we’ve been watching?”

Wonwoo gave him a flat look. “Do you want to die?”

Seungkwan snorted. “Exactly. Let’s just let them have their moment. We can make fun of them after.”

Vernon sighed again but nodded. “Fine. But just so we’re clear…” He glanced back down at you and Chan, who were still completely wrapped up in each other.

“…We are never letting them live this down.”

[razorblade180]

Jaune:Hey Rubes? Have you seen-

Ruby:*wobbling in heels*…Yo.

Jaune:Y-Yo. What’s going on here?

Ruby:I’m conquering my enemy. I beat Salem; high heels are nothing to me! *walking slowly*

Jaune:High heels weren’t attacking society. What’s with the dire intensity.

Ruby:I’m not gonna look stupid at my own wedding.

Jaune:You’re wearing heels.

Ruby:Yep! You’re tall, my dress is long, and despite all odds Weiss has a point about these making your butt look nicer.

Jaune:You don’t have to force it. I already like your butt.

Ruby:Pfft- stop! I can’t laugh and concentrate at the same ti- ahhh!

The poor lady trips over her own feet, falling forward and being caught by Jaune.

Ruby:Should’ve let me face plant. Pain helps me learn.

Jaune:Walking in heels means nothing if you have a broken nose for our wedding. Honestly…it would be a brand. *plays with her hair*

Ruby:Hey!

Jaune:Haven’t seen it this long since heading to Mistral. Growing it out?

Ruby:Perhaps! It’s actually growing faster than I expected. I might have to trim it a bit before it gets too long for the big day.

Jaune:No offense, but I never took you as the type to have fantasized about their wedding day growing up.

Ruby:Because I didn’t. I was thinking about how to improve slingshots and wildling sticks into toy swords.

Jaune:Man I wish any of my sisters were that cool when I was a kid. What’s changed? The girl I traveled with was looking at flame capes.

Ruby:She’s still right here! It’s just… *red* When my boyfriend said he loved me for the first time, I started thinking about after the battles end.

Jaune:…Can I propose to you again?

Ruby:You already know my answer, dork. *kisses cheek* I know I don’t have to wear heels. Hell, I could probably show up in a combat skirt and everyone would find it normal. But I dunno…even I imagine looking like a dream on my big day. I’m actually a little excited to get all dolled up. Is that weird?

Jaune:It might be the most normal thing in the world. Saph is no girlie girl but even she wanted to wear a nice puffy dress like a princess.

Ruby:Like if there’s one day I’m going to attempt to be the prettiest I’ve ever been, it’s gonna be my wedding! And Weiss is all for it. Still, *raises foot* the first step is kicking my ass.

Jaune:You’ve wrestled down a Beowulf. I believe in you Rubes. Though you might want to put cushions down.

Ruby:Hehe, yeah. *squints* Hey, my dear fiancé. If memory serves right, you know how to dance in a dress.

Jaune:I was in sneakers.

Ruby:But do you know how to wear heels?

Jaune:….Let me buy a pair.

Ruby:Ha! Say what you want about your sisters, I’m reaping the benefits!

[212-apricity]

siren songs and stolen kisses, spy games

ssask masterlist main masterlist

note: lmk if you wanna be in the taglist!!

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The morning sun cast a soft, golden glow over the ferry, the waves gently rocking the boat as it made its way toward the mainland. Y/n Cameron stood at the railing, the wind tangling her hair as she watched the horizon stretch endlessly before her. The salty air should have been calming, but her thoughts were anything but.

JJ Maybank. His name had been swirling in her mind since the night before when everything changed. The memory of his kiss lingered, soft and searing, and now they were together. Somehow, it felt like the world shifted under her feet.

Sarah leaned against the railing beside her, studying her intently. “So, are you going to tell me the details, or do I have to guess?”

Y/n shot her a sideways glance, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

Sarah rolled her eyes dramatically. “Don’t play. You’ve been smiling like an idiot since last night. It’s JJ, isn’t it?”

Caught, Y/n couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. “Okay, fine. Yeah. We…kissed,” Sarah’s grin grew, “…and he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

Sarah squealed, delighted. “Ahhh! I knew it! I’m so happy for you. I’d like to be the first to say I called it.” She bumped Y/N’s shoulder lightly. “So, when do we get to meet him properly? I mean, officially.”

Y/n’s smile faltered, the weight of the situation crashing down. “That’s the thing, Sarah. It’s not that simple. Dad hates JJ. And Rafe? You know he’ll go mad if he finds out.”

Sarah frowned, her excitement dimming slightly. “I know, but you can’t hide this forever. If you’re serious about each other, they’ll have to meet him eventually.”

“I know,” Y/n said softly, “but JJ’s not ready to be dragged into Cameron family drama. And honestly, I’m not ready to see how Dad or Rafe will react. I think it’s better if we keep it quiet for now.”

Sarah sighed, folding her arms. “Well, I still want to meet him soon. Just me, no drama.” She smiled reassuringly. “I promise I’ll be cool.”

Y/n relaxed a little, grateful for her sister’s support. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes playfully, also folding her arms, “I’ll talk to JJ about it. He’s cautious, for once. But maybe.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, but the lingering unease hung in the back of Y/n’s mind. She wanted her family to see JJ the way she did, but the thought of what could go wrong made her stomach twist.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The rest of the ferry ride back from the mainland had been peaceful, the lull of the waves and Sarah’s chatter keeping me distracted. But as we cruised down the narrow road toward home, the calm shattered.

A siren blared in the distance, its shrill cry cutting through the air like a knife. I tensed, leaning forward in the passenger seat as Sarah gripped the steering wheel.

“What the hell?” she muttered, glancing at me. “Why are the cops out here?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, a flash of movement appeared ahead—a dirt bike skidding around the corner at a breakneck speed, the tires kicking up dust and gravel. My heart dropped.

John B.

I knew it before I could process it. His familiar silhouette, hunched over the bike, swerved wildly. His face was tight with focus, but he was losing control. He glanced over his shoulder—just in time to see the sheriff’s cruiser closing in—and that moment of distraction was enough.

The bike veered too far to the left, the tires slipping. John B hit the pavement hard, rolling to a stop in a tangle of limbs.

“Oh my God!” I yelled, yanking at my seatbelt as Sarah slammed on the brakes. The car skidded to a halt, gravel crunching beneath the tires.

I got out the car as quickly as possible and ran to where John B had landed while Sarah contemplated calling an ambulance.

“John B!” I fell to my knees beside him and reached for his arm. “Are you okay?”

He groaned, pushing himself up onto one elbow. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and blood. “I’m fine.” he rasped, coughing.“Just… give me a second.”

“No, you’re not fine, you’re bleeding!” I snapped, confused. “What the hell are you doing? Why are the cops chasing you?”

He gave me a lopsided grin, wincing as he tried to sit up. “Long story. Didn’t think I’d get caught.”

“You’re an idiot,” I shot back, helping him to his feet.

“Yeah, but you love me for it.” His teasing tone was weak, but it was there, and I rolled my eyes.

By then, Sarah had caught up to us, her eyes wide with alarm. “What is happening?”

“Don’t worry about it,” John B said, swaying slightly as he tried to stand up. “Can you guys just drive me somewhere? Literally anywhere?” he looked around frantically, making Sarah look around too

“Get in the car,” I said quickly, sliding under his arm to support him.

Sarah opened her mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it. “Fine. We’ll drive you, but you owe us an explanation.” She turned and jogged back to the car.

I helped John B limp toward the car, my stomach twisting with anxiety. “What were you thinking?” I hissed.

“I wasn’t,” he admitted, his voice low. “I didn’t have a choice, Y/n. DCS and all that shit. Had to run.”

I felt a pang in my chest, anger mixing with sympathy. “God John B, you’re lucky we were here.”

He gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, lucky.”

Sarah pulled the car around, the passenger door swinging open. “Get in. Quickly.”

We bundled John B into the backseat, and I slid in the passenger seat as Sarah hit the gas. The sirens were fading in the distance, but I knew they weren’t gone.

“I swear to God, if this gets me arrested, I’m blaming you,” Sarah muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror.

John B chuckled weakly. “Noted.”

I looked at him, my anger softening as I saw the exhaustion in his face. “You’re an idiot,” I whispered again, but this time it was softer.

He met my eyes, a flicker of warmth in his tired expression. “Thank you.” he mouthed

I sighed, smiling and nodded before my phone buzzed,

Despite everything, Y/N smiled at JJ’s text. He always found a way to make her feel lighter.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The Cameron house was unusually quiet when Y/n and Sarah arrived with John B. The grand, sprawling estate felt colder than usual as they helped him through the back entrance. Y/n’s heart pounded as they crept inside, each step echoing faintly in the polished hallway. She kept glancing at the stairs, half-expecting her father or Rafe to appear at any moment.

They eased John B onto the living room couch, “Woah” he excalimed, taking in all the books and expensive furniture. Y/n and John B had been friends for years but he’d never seen anything but the outside of the Cameron estate, mainly because of Y/n’s father and brother.

Y/n rushed to the cabinet for the first-aid kit while Sarah grabbed towels and water. She returned to find John B grimacing, slouched over as Sarah inspected a gash on his abdomen.

“This is bad,” Sarah whispered, kneeling beside him. “That’s gotta be disinfected.”

He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck taut as Sarah dabbed his wound.

John B’s head leaned back, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he asked, “Who’s the dude on the wall?”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Sarah. “Denmark Tanny? He founded Tannyhill.”

“Founder?”

Sarah hummed as John B asked, “So how did a slave found a cotton plantation?”

Y/N’s phone buzzed again, as Sarah explained the history of Denmark Tanny to John B, and she glanced down.

“Y/N?” Sarah’s voice broke into her thoughts. “John B and I are gonna go to the mainland again to look for some documents or something, you think you can cover for me?”

Y/N nodded, “Of course”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The outdoor cinema buzzed with energy. Couples cuddled on blankets, kids darted between rows, and the smell of popcorn and salt filled the air. Under the twinkling stars, it should have felt peaceful, but Y/n’s stomach twisted with anxiety.

JJ was waiting near the back, leaning casually against an old truck. His blonde hair caught the soft glow of the outdoor lights, and he grinned when he saw her.

“There’s my girl,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

Y/n melted into the embrace, the stress of the day fading for a moment. “You have no idea how much I needed this,” she whispered against his chest.

“Rough day?” JJ asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She nodded. “We found John B. He’s a mess. I feel so bad for him with all his DCS stuff and I’m beginning to think this whole thing with his dad might lead to something bad.”

JJ kissed her forehead, his arms tightening around her. “I know princess,” he replied, cautious with his words, “It’ll be okay. Meanwhile we get to watch The Shining and I promise I won’t make fun of you getting scared today.” he smirked, easing the tension in Y/n’s mind as they walked over to the others.

They settled onto a blanket with Kiara and Pope, who were already mid-conversation about climate change.

Kiara paused the conversation, looking up at JJ asking, “By the way, why have Topper and Rafe been staring at you two for the past like 10 minutes?”

Y/n glanced back toward the edge of the clearing, where Rafe, Topper, and Kelce stood, glaring at them.

“They’ve been staring since we got here,” Pope muttered, getting fidgety.

JJ shrugged, unconcerned. “Let them. They can’t do anything in public.”

But the tension was palpable. Y/n opened her mouth to ask them what was going on but was inturrepted as the movie started.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The movie flickered across the giant screen, casting a soft glow over the crowd, but Y/n barely registered it. Her attention kept straying to JJ, his hand resting protectively on her thigh, and to the dark figures of Rafe, Topper, and Kelce lurking near the edge of the crowd. They hadn’t moved, but their hostile stares burned into her skin.

Kiara leaned in, her voice low. “I don’t like this. They’re up to something.”

Pope nodded, his jaw tight. “They’ve been itching for a fight ever since…” He trailed off, glancing at JJ, making Y/n and Kiara even more confused than they were before.

JJ smirked, but his grip on Y/n tightened. “Let them try. I’m ready.”

Y/n grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. “JJ, whatever youre thinking, don’t. Please.”

His blue eyes softened as he turned to her. “I won’t start anything, babe. But I’m not gonna let them mess with us either.”

“Why would they mess-” Kie’s voice cut off, just then, the tension snapped. Rafe made the first move, stalking toward them with Topper and Kelce in tow. The movie’s dialogue faded into the background as the three Pogues stood, bracing for a confrontation.

“Well, well,” Rafe sneered, stopping a few feet away as they were all behind the screen. His eyes darted to Y/N. “Still slumming it with the Pogues, huh, Y/n?”

JJ stepped in front of her, his posture tense. “Fuck off, Rafe.” JJ and Y/n said in unison.

Topper laughed, cold and mocking. “Still sore about the boat, Pope? Don’t worry, your little stunt’s gonna cost you.”

Boat?

Pope’s eyes flashed with anger, but JJ raised a hand, stopping him. “We’re not doing this here.”

Rafe smirked, leaning in close. “You sure? I thought you Pogues loved a good fight.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. She could feel the tension like a live wire, ready to explode.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, tugging on JJ’s bicep.

But it was too late. Pope lunged at Topper, fists flying. Chaos erupted behind the screen, hidden from the crowd. JJ and Rafe collided, grappling as Kiara and Y/n screamed for them to stop.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

In the confusion, Kiara flicked open a lighter, the flame dancing in her palm. “You want chaos?” she muttered. “Fine.”

She touched the lighter to the screen’s edge, and the flames spread rapidly, licking upward and consuming the fabric in a blaze of orange and gold.

“Kiara, what the hell?” Y/n cried, the heat from the fire hitting her face.

JJ grabbed her, pulling her back as the fire roared to life, shielding her from the growing inferno.

The crowd screamed, scattering in all directions as the screen crumbled in a shower of embers. JJ held Y/n close, his body tense, eyes scanning the chaos.

“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping her face.

She nodded, breathless. “You?”

He grinned, coughing from taking punches in his stomach, though his eyes were wild. “I’m good. But we need to move.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The sun had begun to dip low, casting an orange hue across Heyward’s. The porch was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking bottles as the group settled in after a long day. JJ and Y/n were sprawled on the porch steps, his arm draped around her shoulders as they traded jokes and soft smiles. Popeand Kie were lounging nearby, sharing stories and passing around the bag of chips they'd scavenged from inside.

"Alright, but seriously," JJ said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eye, "if I ever end up on a deserted island with only one thing to eat, it’s gotta be pizza. No question."

"How are we even having this conversation when we live on an island?" Pope snorted, leaning back against the railing. "We're surrounded by fresh fish, coconut trees, and you’re over here talking about pizza?"

"You’d miss it too!" JJ shot back, laughing. "Just imagine—no pizza, no pasta… it’d be like, island living, but also, no joy."

Kie snickered, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. "I don’t know about you guys, but if I’m stranded, I’m choosing anything over fish. Can we just agree to let the fish swim and we’ll... maybe raid some yachts for snacks?"

"That's a plan," Y/n said letting out a soft but content sigh, resting her head against JJ’s shoulder as she raised her eyes to the sky. “You know, this is nice,” she said, her voice a little softer now, with none of the urgency that usually followed their recent wild adventures. “Just being here. It’s normal.”

JJ gave her a sidelong glance, his eyes crinkling with warmth as he met her gaze. “Normal? When have we ever been normal?” He scoffed playfully, nudging her. “I think you’re hanging out with the wrong group, Princess.”

Y/n smirked, her lips curling up. "Yeah, guess I am. Hanging out with you is anything but normal, JJ."

He grinned widely, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

“Please,” Kiara said, making a gagging motion from where she sat next to Pope. “I can’t even look at you two right now. You’re making me sick.”

“Ha ha, don’t be jealous” JJ teased, throwing a sideways wink at Kiara. “We get it, you’re so in love with Pope, it’s hard to watch.”

Pope flushed immediately, and Kiara kicked him under the table, a playful expression on her face. "Shut up, JJ," she muttered. "Like I haven’t already heard that one."

The lighthearted chatter continued as the group fell into a comfortable rhythm. Just as Y/n spoke up with a dry joke about Pope's scolarship and life being in danger yet again due to his pizza slander, the distant sound of an engine revved to life.

"That’s not your dad, right Pope?" Y/n asked, furrowing her brow as Pope shook his head, eyebrows furrowed, “No he’s inside.”

She glanced toward the driveway. The others went quiet for a second, hearing the approaching sound of a car.

The rumbling engine soon revealed a pair of police cars pulling up to Heyward’s. The group went tense as two officers climbed out, their boots hitting the gravel with sharp, deliberate steps. They weren’t just here for a friendly visit.

"Shit." Pope muttered under his breath, his stomach dropping.

JJ noticed immediately—the way Pope stiffened. He shot a look at him, his expression quickly turning serious. "What the hell?" JJ muttered to himself.

The officers advanced towards them, one of them stepping forward as the others hung back, hands resting on their belts. “We’re looking for Pope Heyward,” the officer said, voice gruff. “We have a warrant for his arrest in connection to a vandalized boat. You’re coming with us, kid.”

Pope’s face dropped. He stood up, his hands raised in confusion. “What are you talking about? I didn’t—"

"Don’t make this harder than it has to be," the officer interrupted, taking a step closer. “We got a witness statement—Topper Thornton’s boat’s wrecked, and we know you sunk it, we got CCTV footage kid. You’re under arrest for vandelism.”

JJ shot to his feet, suddenly all fire and heat. “What?!" He stepped forward, his eyes flashing with an anger that burned just beneath the surface. "This is bullshit! He didn’t do it. Pope didn’t do anything.”

The officer turned to JJ, his expression hardening. “Stay out of this, kid. This isn’t your business.”

But JJ wasn’t backing down. He moved even closer, standing his ground. He looked hesitant for a moment, fidgeting before exclaiming, “It was me!” His voice was loud now, and there was a fire in his eyes that spoke volumes. “I sunk that boat alright, It was me.”

Y/n blinked in confusion, her head spinning as she tried to make sense of what was happening. “JJ, what are you—”

“Shut up, princess,” JJ snapped, though his voice was soft and he was smiling softly as he turned to face her. “Just trust me.”

The weight of the situation hitting Y/n in waves. “JJ, don’t do this.” Her heart pounded as she stepped toward him. “What are you talking about? What did you do?”

JJ looked at her, a mix of frustration and something softer—guilt, maybe, or tenderness. His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I’ll tell you everything later alright? Just trust me for now.”

Before she could respond, the officer reached forward and grabbed JJ’s arm, starting to pull him away. JJ looked over at Pope, eyes hardening with resolve. “Go,” JJ said to him in a low voice. “I’ll take care of it.”

Pope hesitated, clearly conflicted. He shook his head, his face tight with emotion. “JJ-”

“Shut up Pope,” JJ said, his voice sharp. He moved from Pope to Kie’s gaze before turning back to the officers. “I said it was me. So let’s go. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The officers, seemingly done with the conversation, moved to pull JJ toward their patrol car. He walked without resistance, eyes locked on Y/n for one last moment.

“JJ,” she whispered as his face softened, and he offered her a quick smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

The sound of the car door slamming shut echoed in the air as the officers shoved him inside. Y/n stood there, staring at the spot where he had just been, her heart heavy in her chest. She couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

Pope collapsed back into his chair, his face buried in his hands. Kiara was pacing, visibly upset. And Y/n stood frozen, feeling utterly helpless as the world seemed to have shifted in an instant.

"What the fuck have you done Pope?" Kiara shouted.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

part four done!!

idk i miss jj and old obx

taglist: @harryssideboobz @onelonelybitch

[neilperryismine]

dps rewatch thoughts: part 2

(just my random + film student thoughts)

“…and not when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.” *silence*

“Meeks put your coat down. Picnic blanket. Right here.” “Yes, sir.”

“Wait a minute, who gave us half a roll!” “*mumbled* I’m eating the other half” “come on” “you want me to put it back?”

I love Meeks and Pitts

TODDS SO CUTE CLAPPING HIS HANDS😆

THEYRE DANCING

the cave meeting ends - bell (at midnight)

“Mr anderson are you a man or an amoeba” 😟

HOPKINS THATS HIS NAME

“Don’t believe me, come see for yourself” neil and charlie jump out of their seats and go up first without hesitation. the others wait and Meeks looks at them, hesitating. 👬

They get on the desk first, and while charlie looks around and admires the view, neil looks forward and then jumps straight down. He looked at the world from a different perspective, but only one.

RADIO FREE AMERICA🗣️🗣️🗣️

Stick fencing!!!!

LETS HAVE A PARTY WOOO LETS HAVE A PARTY👯‍♀️

unhappy anderperry…

“You look as stirred up as a cesspool”

“I appreciate this concern…”🧐

“I can take care of myself just fine” “no.” so you want to care of him??!!!!!

“what do you mean ‘no’?” “no❤️😊”

“we are dreaming…poetry…I’m being chased by WALT WITMAN��😊

Meeks during football/poetry: 😶🤓

“Charlie I got the part! I’m going to play puck!”

“Nyah!”❤️

Neil’s happy stims😊

“I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world. W. W.”

“Truth is like, like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold. You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream.“ wow.

Neil: 😍

TODD JUMPS INTO NEILS ARMS

NEIL HAPPY JUMPING

Knox falls over twice🤦🏼‍♀️

“That-a-boy pittsie. Inhale. Deeply.” 💀

“Your parents collect pipes? Oh! That’s really interesting!”

“Duh it’s a lamp Meeks!”

“This is the god of the cave” *looks and smiles at todd*

“Poetrusic by Charles Dalton”

“Laughing, crying, tumbling, mumbling. Gotta do more. Gotta be more. Chaos screaming. Chaos dreaming. Gotta do more. Gotta be more.

“The saxophone is more…sonorous.”

“If I don’t have chris I’m gonna k*ll myself” *cut to neil*😭

“Knoxious you gotta calm down”

CHARLIES BERET

“Carpe diem…even if it k*lls me” KNOX😭

NEIL AND TODD EYE CONTACT AND LAUGH AHHH (AND MEEKS NOTICES)

Todd’s hair💀

Scarf flip😭

“Exercising the right not to walk” - Charlie’s ahead of the others.

“It’s your birthday, happy birthday!”

“It’s rather aerodynamic isn’t it”

“Oh my!”

I LOVE THE DESK SET SCENE

THE POETS IN THE CAVE SCENE:🧍‍♂️😳 no one can tell me they’re straight after that

Pitts hits his head again

The whole film is getting darker

Uh oh…the party scene

ANDERPERRY GLANCES👀

“Me and Pitts are working on a hi-fi system” “I might be going to Yale…uh but I might not”

Charlie is so enjoying watching the awkwardness of them trying to interact with Gloria and Tina

“I published an article in the school paper in the name of the dead poets. Demanding girls be admitted to Welton. So we can all stop beating off.” WHAT

“Alright but you still shouldn’t have done it CHARLIE” woah angsty neil

Neil staring at todd and then pretending he wasn’t!!!!

Meeks jumper alert!!

“Sucking the marrow out of live doesn’t mean chocking on the bone.”

Stick talking spotted!!

[gojo-enthusiast]

Jealous Ass Bitch ~ Toji Fushiguro One Shot

Master List <3

Word count: 800

Slight smut, 18+, MDI, Fluff, vulgar Toji bc when is he not, strong language.

“Fuccckkk I am in the worst fucking mood EVER!” You huff out, slamming the front door, kicking your shoes off. “Wow doll, what’s up with the language?” The big broad, vulgar speaking boyfriend of yours asks, with a lifted brow. “Says the one with the most foul language known to man.” You roll your eyes, plopping on the couch. Usually when you come home, even after a long day, you give your boyfriend Toji a kiss, and instantly lay with him on the couch, before you both go and take a shower to wash off the day.

Your boyfriend was a gangster, of course he would never tell you that. But the wounds on his knuckles and the way he came home with stitches on his arm told you otherwise.

“Hey, whatcha sittin’ so far away for?” He says, standing up, to walk over to you. “I’m not in the mood today.” You sigh. “What’s wrong big baby?” He teases, sitting down on the ground, grabbing your feet. You instantly try to pull them away saying— “No Toji, I’m sure they smell. I’ve been working all day.” You pout. “I have fucked ya on ya period, I’m not worried about stinky feet.” He chuckles, grabbing your feet, and starts massaging them. “So what happened pretty princess.” He looks up with those forest green eyes. You finally begin to tell him. You told him how the girl who works under you was calling you a liar, saying that Toji wasn’t really your boyfriend, you had never brought him by the office, so everyone thought he was someone you just said was your boyfriend so people would be off your back about marriage and stuff. You go on, telling him how you showed a picture to the girl, and she said he was to good looking for you, that she doubts that’s even your boyfriend. It ended up with you calling her a bitch, and telling her to quit being a “jealous ass bitch.” Which ended up getting you written up. Of course your boss understood your POV, but he said, “you just can’t call people a jealous ass bitch. It simply is unprofessional and disrespectful.”

“Sounds like a bitch.” Toji says, agreeing with you. “Yeah! That’s what I’m saying! Ugh! I mean I know I’m not the hottest, but I do deserve you.” You sigh, “hey Doll, of course you do. it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re the hottest girl I’ve seen, and with the tightest pussy I’ve had.” He winks— “Ahhh Toji you’re so gross!” You laugh, he starts tickling your feet, moving up your legs, to your face, kissing you. “My pretty little girl.” He smiles. “Should I come by your job and fuck you right in front of her?” He smirks, “Toji! You’re so vulgar!” You laugh.

Well 3 days later, your gorgeous raven haired boyfriend does show up to your job, your favorite flowers in his hand, a bouquet, and a paper bag in his other. “Hey doll.” He says, leaning in kissing you. “To- what are you doing here?” You say chuckling to yourself. “I can’t bring my princess flowers and a gift?” He questions, “of course you can.” You smile.

“Hello! I’m Marie, you must be Toji! I didn’t know y/n had such a lovely looking friend.” The jealous ass bitch says. “Friend? I wouldn’t say the woman I fuck daily is my friend. I’d probably say my wife though.” He says with a smirk. “Oh— I didn’t know you were married Miss. Y/N!” She chuckles. “I’m not yet-“ you start to say, “Will be soon, ready to put a baby in this fine ass woman.” He smirks, kissing your lips and gripping your ass. “Just came by to show you that I’m very much real.” He whispers to the young girl.

“Princess I put some of your favorite snacks in the bag, and a little something to change into before you walk in the door tonight. You better be ready.” He says low enough for you to hear, but loud enough for Marie to hear. “Oh—“ your breathe hitches,

“I’ll see ya later sweet cheeks.” He smooches your cheek, “I’ll see ya later jealous ass bitch.” He smirks at Marie. She had her mouth wide open, covering her mouth and face in embarrassment. She sits at her desk, and for the rest of her time there she doesn’t mutter a word to you.

“Y/n HR wants to speak with you.” Your boss says at the end of the day. “no they don’t, because I fucking quit.” You say, slipping out the chair, grabbing your stuff, and going home to the man who’s about to help you celebrate your departure from the dead end job he’s been telling you to quit for months.

[giggly-squiggily]

Bachira who’s super foot ticklish, but he’s wicked speedy and can never be caught. HOWEVER, the times that he gets caught, ohhhhh Lordy. You gotta wrap an arm around both or else he WILL kick you.

He’s a WIGGLER. His giggles are squeaky and he tosses his head around, pounding fists on backs before he just falls back and SCREAMMMMSS, laughing straight from his belly.

He can take tickles; he loves them, and they’re so much fun. But on his feeties? No way. He’s done after like thirty seconds and he’s just so so so frantic and begging, literally just- “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-“

I swear to god, I need to write this fella

AHHH QNSNWNSNWNNSNWNS GAH MY HEART!!

Bachira has those Chigiri-speed reflexes with them feets! He can whip them out of reach so fast once he kicked Kuon in the jaw by accident (deserved /hj)

THE PLEASES QNSNNWND I feel like Isagi’s annoying so when he hears it he starts singing Sabrina Carpenter songs off-key like “Don’t break my heaaaart~” and Bachira is losing his mind even the monster can’t save him now ahdnwnsnwnnss

HWDBNWND HELP NOT THE EXORCISM REACTION AHZBANZNWNNZ He starts sounding like Donnie from Wild Thornberry’s and it’s taking everyone’s will not to implode on the spot from laughing so hard- they can’t even train right after it’s far too funny ahxbwndnnwndnd

I’m dying- this is literal gold Ducky! Thank you for the banquet of sillies! 😭😭😭🙏🏻 (here’s to many more when you’re feeling it! I’m always down to hear them! 💖)

[dollfaceksj]

AHHH i can’t wait for #20!! will we get to see the date?

read and find out! <3

sooo since it’s my bday today (jk bday twin 🤭😋) this is a little rushed and very short! but i still wanted to update so i hope u guys like it <3

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #20

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

you didn’t exactly speak to jungkook again for the rest of the train ride

and you kinda also didn’t remove him as a follower

🫨🫨🫨

so now you’re just. alone

in a booth

listening to music

doesn’t matter tbh

when you’ve arrived, you hop out the carriage

you separate from the others

and go home without another word

upon arriving home, you take the longest bath you’ve ever had

exfoliate

wax

take care of your skin

just everything

you put on your cute pajamas and crawl into your bed

and waste your entire day lying in bed

you get a text

from: tae tae

‘What you up to?’

from: you

‘nothing. watching tv alone’

from: tae tae

‘I’m bored. Can I come over’

from: you

‘sure’

you sit up straight in your bed and rub your eyes

hmm

tae doesn’t live that far so

he’ll be here soon

you make your couch a bit cozier with blankets and place some snacks on your table

after some time passes

your doorbell rings

you make your way to the front door and swing it open

“you need some more friends, taehyung,” you say as you put some of your shoes away to leave space for his

“i agree, he should.”

?

you look up

from your kneeling position

to make eye contact

with the devil himself

he stares you down from up there with hooded eyes

“where’s taehyung?”

he shrugs his shoulders. “i took his phone to text you. i know you would ignore me if i tried to dm you.”

he’s unbelievable

“why are you here?” you ask as you rise to your feet

he tilts his head to the side. “i still owe you.”

you frown

what does this damn junior want?

he needs!! to leave!! you alone!!

“and what exactly do you owe me?”

“an orgasm.”

the air knocks right out of your lungs

you shake your head. “i already told you. it was the last time.”

“i know but technically, you didn’t finish.”

UGH

you hate him.

you hate him.

you sigh quietly. “that’s okay. i don’t mind.”

“i do.”

for fucks sakeeeee

“you gonna let me make you cum? one last time?”

he closes the distance between you two, staring down at you with a neutral expression on his face

he’s not trying to convince you

it just seems like he actually takes this ‘favor’ seriously

“jungkook,” you sigh

“i swear i won’t bother you anymore.”

ugh

and now you’re reminded of everything tae told you

you wrap your fingers around his forearm and gently tug him further into your apartment

you quietly close the door. “you’re not bothering me, jungkook.”

he just stares at you, letting you speak

“but weren’t you supposed to hang with isabella today?”

a smirk creeps on his lips. “keeping tabs on my life?”

you scoff, “you wish. i just overheard you two talking.”

he hums as he kicks his shoes off and walks further into your apartment

DAMN JUNIOR

“so. you prepared this for me?” he nods towards the cozy couch and snacks on the table, picking one can of pringles up

“i prepared it for taehyung.” you snatch the pringles can out of his hands

he chuckles. “well, you put in all this effort. it’d be a shame if it went to waste.” he turns to face you fully

you look up at him and cross your arms

his eyes drop down your pajamas, taking note of your cute pajama set and fuzzy socks.

he quietly mumbles, “cute,” with a small smile.

your cheeks heat up and you turn away from him, heading towards the couch

“well, i guess you’re right but only because i don’t want my efforts to go to waste.” you plop down and sit down with your legs criss cross apple sauce

he takes his sweater off, revealing his plain black shirt as he goes to sit down next to you

you reach for the remote and start going through the available movies

he sinks comfortably into your couch, draping one arm behind your head on the backrest of the couch

you ask him if he’s seen some of these and he tells you that he’s actually not a big movie fan and prefers shows

preferably mystery and/or thriller

you nod your head, agreeing with what he’s saying

so you both agree on watching sherlock

and you have a lot of fun

watching it with him

:(

2 hours into the marathon

you glance over at jungkook

and

:(

he’s dozing off :(

you don’t know why

but it makes you feel some type of way

like

did he use the excuse of having sex to come here? just to hang out with you?

:(

ah

you just

start feeling guilty

you move closer to him and shake his arm

he quickly blinks and awakes, looking around. “oh, i’m sorry. didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

you shake your head. “it’s okay.”

he slowly sits up and stretches his arms. “so have you thought about it?”

you frown as you glance at him, pausing the show with one hand on the remote. “what?”

“letting me make you cum.”

….

you ask, “you’re serious about that?”

he nods his head like you just asked him about the weather and he knows the answers

“you don’t have to do that. if you wanted to get your dick wet, you should’ve let isabella come over. why come to me?”

at this, he frowns. like he’s genuinely confused

“because we didn’t get to finish last time. why are you bringing up isabella?” his frown almost stings you

you try to appear nonchalant and casual. “because it seems like she’s down for whatever. or not?”

he chuckles but there’s no humor behind it. “are you jealous?”

“now, why the fuck would i be jealous, jungkook?” you rise to your feet and gather the empty cartons and cans of snacks and drinks

“i don’t know, pretty. you just sound kinda jealous.”

you hear the smugness in his voice even when you’re all the way in the kitchen, throwing out the plastic and cartons

“don’t call me that,” you mumble as you start folding one of the blankets

he gets up and closes the gap between you, pressing his chest into your back

“what? you don’t like being called pretty?” he jokes, pestering you as he stays glued to your body with each move you make

he adds, “you definitely loved it when you were getting fucked, though.”

UGHHHH

can he just

GET LOST!!!!

the longer he’s here

the more your resolve crumbles

the longer you’re in his proximity

the more you want to take him up on his offer

you want to help him

you do

like tae said

but

is it worth it when it makes everything worse for you?

you can’t fucking stop thinking about him

and your body heats up whenever he’s near

you turn to face him. “you,” you start, “you’re not good for me.”

his expression falters. “what do you mean?”

you shrug your shoulders. “you’re like poison, jungkook. i don’t know what’s going on.”

he stares at you dumbfounded. “i’m so confused.”

“ugh!” you throw the blanket on your couch. “i spend one– ONE night with you in a tent, next thing i know, i’m having sex with you in the back of someone else’s car and letting you fuck me in a dirty tent while our friends are asleep.”

you swallow thickly before you mumble under your breath, “a guy like you should wear a warning.”

he silently stares at you for a moment before he crosses his arms over his chest. “well, i do. you’re the one that started coming onto me after tae warned you.”

you almost choke on air cause he’s right. “that has nothing to do with this.”

your body is starting to heat up

his serious expression…

hes so fucking hot wow

he steps even closer to you. “it has everything to do with it. just admit that you wanted me and stop acting like i did something underhanded so that i could fuck you. you know damn well you wanted me to fuck you as bad as i wanted to fuck you.”

a lump starts forming in your throat

he has you all figured out

but he’s not finished. “so quit acting like the bigger person.”

fuck

fuck fuckfuck

fuck you want him

you want him so bad

he adds, “you keep pouting at me like that and i’ll have no choice but to kiss you.”

fuck

the words leave your mouth without you even realizing. “then kiss me already.”

fuck

why did YOU

SAY THAT

he wastes no time lunging at you, cupping your face as he kisses you with so much fervor it sets your body ablaze

you let him walk you back to the couch before he sits down and pulls you onto his lap

you don’t hesitate for a second when you climb onto his lap

kissing him with equal amounts of fervor

tongues forcing their way into each others mouths

the not-so-innocent grinding

soft moaning

heavy breathing

fuck, you want him

you need him

his hands grip your hips, fingers draping over the swell of your ass

the more you grind your hips into him, the harsher his grip on your hips

until he starts spanking you

making you moan into his mouth

fuck he’s making it so hard for you to be the better person

is one last time really that bad?

but.. will it really be the last time if you don’t put a stop to it now?

you know if you accept, you’ll always just fall straight into his trap

and ‘a last time’ will never really be a last time

declining right now would help him in the long run, you could build that bond with jungkook that tae was talking about

so what will it be

toxic frenemies with benefits (ACCEPT)

or

healthy friendship and no more lying to tae (DECLINE)

to be continued

<- previous ; next ->

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[deityoftherain]

This post is pertaining to the hide and seek challenge Scott (Smajor/dangthatsalongname), Shelby (Shubble), Gem (GeminiTay), Lizzie (LDShadowLady), and Jimmy (SolidarityGaming) did very recently.

I am going to take a deep breath, put a few eeeees out in the universe (not to anyone in particular; just for me to not continue spam texting my friend who doesn’t care) in a very calm and collected manner, take another deep breath, and try to maybe go to bed.

Scott, sir, you are insane both at seeking and hiding. You scare me sometimes but it’s okay because it’s in the best way and I admire you for it. You’re so cool <3

Shelby, you’re a psychopath but also in the best way! How did you possibly make something so cute and tiny and still have so many hiding spots! I was giggling the whole time and I loved seeing the Shrub skin again! :D

Gem, the gradients on those roofs and all those details of the interior? Ughhh! Wonderful! Also love the little comments. So fun ^^

Also Shelby and Gem making in the closet jokes in Scott’s video is just the epitome of queer friendships and I am so normal about it mhm yep

Lizzie, you’re unhinged (/pos) but the style of hide and seek you did was so much fun and the hiding spot was 10/10! Sardines (that version of hide and seek I learned) can be so chaotic and so much fun so I got so excited when they started finding you and going quiet. I very much enjoyed :3

Jimmy, I’m so proud of you oh my god! Your building has come so far- I feel like a parent watching my child progress even though I am younger than you and also do not play Minecraft myself. Ahhh good job :,D

See! Very calm

…

why are you still here

…

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I AM SO SO SANE ABOUT THEM OMG HEBEUDHDHDBDHDBDHDBDHDBDHDBDHDBDHDB GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET ROLLING ON THE FLOOR LAUGHING

uh anyway-

You saw nothing :D

[faela404]

Hello, I saw that you are open for some requests. May I request some platonic drabble for Dazai, in a story where Dazai and reader taking care of a stray kitten, reader is Dazai younger sibling

That is all, thank you and I hope you have a lovely day 💖

ahhh this is such a cute idea omg-

dazai x gn! sibling! reader (platonic !)

☆ light & love ☆

☆ during his time in the port mafia, dazai had never really been apart of your life. i mean sure you knew your brother existed, you had spent some time together but, since joining the port mafia you had barely seen him.

☆ recently however, dazai had been reaching out, something to do with a ‘new job’. it was weird to see your older brother after so long but it wasn’t unwelcome.

☆ over the course of a few weeks dazai and you had become a lot closer, similarly to how you were as children but, it was clear he had changed. you may not be as close as you used too but, you could still tell when he was hiding behind his fake joy.

“y/nnnnn! look! i got you and i some of the finest coffee this cafe has to offer” the taller man offered a smile to you before placing the cup of steaming coffee infront of you.

“did you actually pay for this osamu? or did you steal your coworker’s card again?” you asked inquisitively, raising an eyebrow towards your ‘dear’ brother.

he let out a loud gasp at the notion. he always did have such a flair for the dramatic huh?

“how dare you assume i would do such a thing” he raised a hand to his chest in mock offence, “this is an outrage, my own sibling, my own flesh and blood, doesn’t believe i’d do something so nice for them” he stared up at you, “just for that, you’re paying next time”

“…”

“so you did take his card then, yeah?”

☆ while you and dazai had definitely become closer, you didn’t trust eachother fully.

☆ however, that all changed one stormy night.

☆ you had never enjoyed walking down the streets of yokohama, after all this city was extremely dangerous, especially at night

☆ that’s when you heard it.

☆ a soft ‘pitter’ ‘patter’ behind you, at first you thought it was the rain until, you felt a small prickly feeling across your legs

☆ there, by your feet, stood the cutest, smallest little kitten you’d ever seen.

☆ her fur was soaked from all the rain and her little eyes were big and rounded as they stared right up at you, almost begging

☆ how could you refuse?

☆ carefully you scooped up the seemingly stray kitten and began towards your apartment until you remembered..

☆ your landlord doesn’t allow pets-

☆ you’d be kicked out in an instant if he ever saw the little guy

☆ you couldn’t just leave her here, i mean she could get hurt really bad or get sick from the cold, it’d be cruel! but, you had no where to take her-

☆ now wait a damn minute. didn’t dazai say his neighbours dog had been ‘screaming bloody murder all fucking night’? if his neighbour had a loud dog, then..

☆ his building allows pets!!

☆ but, would he even want to help you with this? i mean he is the one who lives there, he might not want a kitten running around

☆ it was too late now though, the poor baby was gonna get a cold and you were already on your way to his apartment building

☆ if only you knew what you was getting yourself into..

“‘SAMU! NO! SHE CANT EAT THAT!” you had said that line atleast 80 times in this past week. osamu had been more than happy to help you out with your new little friend, turns out your ex-mafiaso brother had a big soft spot for cats. how purrfect!

(i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist🥲)

that night, ‘samu and you had bathed and dried that little kitten along with feeding her until she passed out on osamu’s futon.

you had then proceeded to spend the next 2 hours arguing about what to call her and trying to convince ‘samu that “suicide”, “poison” & “noose” were not appropriate names for a kitten.

☆ you had never felt so happy before

☆ you had your brother back, even if you refused to admit it, you had missed him tremendously

☆ your trust in eachother had strengthened over the years as you two continued to take care of your little kitten

☆ dazai still housed her in his apartment but pretty soon you’d move to his building to be closer to her (and your brother but, you’d never admit that to him)

☆ ya’ll had become a happy little family

☆ you, dazai and himari

a/n ! - this was adorable omgnskskwkodow, thank you so much for the request this was a lot of fun to write! it was just what i needed after my test so yk-

also from what i found (on google lol) himari means sun or light and love (hence the name of the story) i just thought it was cute considering how dazai doesn’t really think he’s truly deserving of love and how light/ the sun is usually related to good and kind people which dazai would definitely not see himself as (cause he isnt #dazaislander) - anyway i just wanted to add that cause i thought is was cute!

[celestie0]

First time asker but long time reader 😭 I’m sorry that you got that shitty ask. It’s such a weird fucking thing to ask someone “hey when are you making these two fuck?” like… does that not feel weird to type out?

The gojo x reader tag has at least 5 explicit smut fics minimum daily, go read through those if you genuinely need sex in everything you read (it’s time to reflect on the porn addiction you have).

Regardless, I’ve been reading your fics on Ao3 and I absolutely LOVE the banter between gojo and reader 😭 it flows so fucking well I can feel the chemistry radiating from my screen. When I first started reading IHM, I was also an ancient hag like reader (29) so I found myself able to really relate to her. Usually when I envision Y/N, it’s a random person in their place but with this fic specifically idk why I lowkey insert myself? Everything she does, I would probably do the same and it makes me nervous (in a good way) that I’m gonna get attached to gojo and y/n’s relationship 😭

I absolutely love how gojo provides the security Y/N so desperately needs in the span of the fic. She has been suffocating on her own for so long that he just provides some fresh air. Dare I say meant to be?

The domesticity is everything and I like how we’re learning more about him alongside Y/N. So far we’ve seen just how supportive gojo has been and I’m excited to see how y/n comes through for him because my spidey senses (and your amazing writing) shows me that he has some baggage and it might resurface soon.

The build up to them realizing they love each other is making me giggle and kick my feet. I will happily eat whatever you feed us, thank you for sharing your writing with us. You absolutely have a talent for writing and fleshing out characters/relationships.

I appreciate you and will do my best to support you vocally from here on out 🥹 have a great week pls!

hi my love!! first of all thank you SO much for this supportive message, i srs teared up when i read it 😭 idk if that’s embarrassing to admit lololdjfsdfh but yea omg yesterday was rough so i can’t tell u how much it means to me

i agree on the porn addict thing omg like i love smut as much as the next person, but likeee to go into an author inbox after they just posted a 14k chap of their fic n say “are we gonna get smut soon?” like 💀 that’s sortaaaaa. i’m getting porn addiction vibes

aaaaaaaa i’m so happy you’re enjoying the banter in ihm :’’) and that you’re able to see yourself in reader’s shoes!! that’s such a wonderful thing n one of the aims of my writing ♥️ ♥️ also pls 29 is not ancient hag oml i mean there will be lots of rhetoric in ihm where reader thinks she’s old but like ultimately i want the message of the series to be that it’s never too late to start over and find happiness & joy :) i think that really applies to everything and everyone. and ahhh yes there will be some pretty angst stuffs BUT there will be happy ending <33

yes ihm gojo def got some baggage 😂😂 i need my men like that LOL. but thank you so much for being excited to see how reader comes through for him as well!! i know she’s going through a lot on her own, and that can sometimes cause her to neglect the things outside of her…but i think she has capacity to really be there for him too

oh my dear i really am so lucky to have you as a long time reader and i’m so grateful to hear your thoughts, but also please send them whenever you want to and without pressure <33 i will eat it tf up if/when you do but yea xD never feel burdened to! you have a wonderful week as well omg imma eat u fr

[berrypass-de-murdler]

3 - 52 Murder at the Iron Palace (Hotel & Casino)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60526321/chapters/161801329

The regular link embed is not working at all

But a less-than-stellar 10th season has been added to AO3 for easier reading!

I could be making something else. People might like something else I could make maybe

But no

I make this :3

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

Irratino’s mission takes place at the Iron Palace - the original home of the legendary pigeon the Iron Tsar. But after everything went down in Murdle on the Logico Express, it has been renovated into the only publicly available location in the battleground region - The Iron Palace Hotel & Casino! (Mostly casino.) He slowly enters the massive swinging doors, blinded by lights and gold… 

RASPBERRY: Well wouldja look at that, it’s uh-RASH-inno!

The goat lord is tackled by an aggressive hug from the very loving Razz, Amaranth, and Night. Sir Rulean stays grumpily behind. Nah, he joins too.

IRRATINO: You guys! I’m here to solve a murder… by myself. AMARANTH: Ahhh, please stay for gambling! IRRATINO: I know, I’d like to… but I can’t.

He looks at the body of the day, and is greatly saddened by the lack of Logico. And while he looks for clues, he can’t help but get distracted by the incredible games. 

RASPBERRY: Check it - in this coin toss, you can only bet one thing - yer life! 

He enters some money into an auto-flipping machine. The coin launches into the air, spinning and spinning… Raspberry crosses his fingers and prays to God, sweating heavily. Spinning saws encroach at his feet. But don’t worry - the coin lands on Heads!

RASPBERRY: PHEEEYEW! I thought I was a goner that time!

Irratino grimaces a fake smile. Why would anyone do that? At least Sir Rulean is playing normal cards.

RULEAN: Hey. Want to play a round? IRRATINO: What are we playing?  RULEAN: Five-card draw (aces, kings, and jacks wild).

Irratino likes his chances, and is more interested in distracting himself from his sorrow than solving the murder. Another reason why they should never be separated! Due to being in poor spirits, though, he loses quite a bit of money to the fake knight.

AMARANTH: Did zomeone zay… KNIGHT??

He grabs Tino’s arm and drags him to a separate wing of the building. His tail almost becomes a propellor!

AMARANTH: ZUPER-ULTRA BULLET CHESS960!!! Look look-

He hops into a tank on top of a giant chessboard. Giant horse-shaped pieces start rolling in…

Irratino jumps for cover as he hears the sound of a machine gun! Wood shavings fly everywhere, and Amaranth cackles maniacally. 

AMARANTH: IRRATINO YOU CAN BE MY OPPONENT! IRRATINO: AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOOOOO! Thanks. 

Amaranth shoots the wrong thing and a hole opens up in the ground, swallowing him. His feminine scream fades away. Irratino waddles back to the lobby and flops against the front desk, depressed. He catches something out of the corner of his eye - Logico’s handwriting! He had preemptively sent a note to him! This warms Irratino’s heart greatly, and he prances back to find the real murderer.

Numerologist Night inserts $10,000 into a slot machine, and pulls the lever, looking almost villainous. 

IRRATINO: GAHHHAH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? NIGHT: Vulgar statisticians might say the slot machine has the lowest odds, but little do they know - my lucky number! THREE! My birthday, March 3rd! If I play the 3rd machine in the 3rd row, I always win three times my money - $30,000 for you uneducated folk. I ALWAYS WIN THE SLOT MACHINE! I ALLLWAYYYS WIN!  IRRATINO: O…kay, but- NIGHT: Oh, and when the manager tried to kick me out for winning, I killed him :) 

Irratino wants to be mad, but can’t help but smile at his manipulative bestie. Lucky numbers - it’s perfect! And he writes down his own lucky number.

Twelve.

The end!

So does Irratino have a canon birthday?

I was thinking Feb 12 because that falls into Aquarius but that's just an assumption

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[cybrsan]

Ahhh congrats on your 100!!! I love your prompt options, can you plz do yunho with 1, 14, 36

Thank you so much! Since you didn't specify what genre, I avoided writing smut just in case.

Prompts:  1. “Come over here and make me.” + 14. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” + 36. “You were put on this earth to give me a headache.”  Pairing: Roommate!Yunho x F!Reader Genre: Angst, Fluff Word Count: <1kTags/warnings: Alcohol usage, hidden feelings, somewhat controlling behavior

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

“Jeong Yunho, give me my phone back right now, or I am going to end you.”

“Come over here and make me,” he teases, letting the device hang haphazardly between his thumb and index finger as he dangles it over the sink that is currently filled with dirty dishes and soapy water. 

You lunge at him and he immediately reacts, holding the phone high over his head and out of your reach. He laughs at you as you try to grab it from him, knowing that your attempts are useless. Not only are you unsteady on your feet from the alcohol, but he has a good few inches on you already. After a few tries, you decide to stop and save the rest of your dignity while you still can.

With an exasperated groan, you take a seat at one of the kitchen barstools, resigning yourself to simply glaring at him until he gives it back or until he erupts into a fiery blaze. Whatever happens first.

“You’re an asshole,” you chide. “I swear, you were put on this earth to give me a headache.” 

He slides your phone into the small space between the cabinets and the ceiling, and you cringe, thinking of all the dust that’s probably up there. Maybe you’ll make him clean it as revenge. He sits next to you, and, petty as you are, you move down a stool so that there is space between you. 

“I’m an asshole for not letting you text your ex? I feel like that’s unfair.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m going to kick you out.”

“And pay the rent all on your own? Doubt it.”

“You know, you really need to stop hanging out with Wooyoung so much. His brattiness is rubbing off on you.”

Yunho laughs, throwing his head back. “He’s gonna love to hear that.” 

Your conversation tapers off, Yunho getting himself a snack from one of the cupboards while you play absentmindedly with your half-drunk glass of rum and coke. The silence starts to grate at your nerves and, steeling yourself, you down the rest of your drink and get up to put on your coat. 

Yunho eyes you suspiciously. “And where are you going?” 

“Hyunjin’s house. Since someone won’t let me text him.”

“Woah,” he gets up, moving toward you. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Look, I’ll give you your phone back, but just wait until you’re sober, okay?” 

“Nice try,” you huff, turning around to leave.

He grabs your wrist, his grip gentle but still firm enough to prevent you from moving. “Y/N, you aren’t thinking straight. He broke your heart, remember?” 

The reminder makes you bristle, and you choose to ignore it. “Yunho, you can’t stop me.”

“I think I can,” he says, moving to stand in front of the door. “Take off your coat.”

“What?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

You gape at him, shocked by his audacity. Yet, as much as you don’t want to listen to him, there is something about his aura that makes you hesitant to argue. So, for the second time tonight, you give in to him, harrumphing as you take off your coat and throw it directly at his face.

“Fine, you win. I’ll stay locked in the apartment forever, resorting to carrier pigeons and smoke signals as my only means of communicating with the outside world!”

You flop onto the couch dramatically, and Yunho rolls his eyes as he hangs your coat up for you. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Doubt it.” Next thing you know, Yunho is in front of you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You screech, flailing in his grasp. “What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

“Putting you to bed.”

“Well, I’m flattered, but I’m really not into the whole super dominant thing.”

He ignores your snide comment, gently placing you into your bed and tucking you in so that the blanket forms a cacoon around you. You grumpily snuggle deeper into your mattress, and he chuckles. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Am not.”

“Are too—even when you attempt to cause me bodily harm. Now get some rest.”

“Wait,” you say, stopping him from leaving. “Can I ask you something?”

He sits next to you and nods. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

“Why do you care so much? About me not reaching out to Hyunjin, I mean.”

“You really have to ask?” When you don’t answer, he continues, “He hurt you, Y/N. I watched, unable to do anything to help, as it took you weeks to get over him. I don’t want to see that happen again. I care about you too much to stand idly by this time.”

You light up a bit at his words. “Yeah? You really mean that?”

He smiles at you, eyes crinkling, and says, “Of course.” Then, leaning down, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry for stealing your phone earlier. Maybe I was a little drunk, too. I’ll charge it for you.”

“It’s okay. Thank you, Yunho. For looking out for me.”

“Always. Sleep tight, okay?” 

He stands up and turns off your light, and it doesn’t take long for you to fall into a dreamless slumber. When you wake, your phone is at your bedside table, along with a glass of water, some aspirin, and a handwritten note.

Please don’t go back to him. Let me treat you better.

[gynnieee]

holy shit dude how is your art so gorgeous I am literally sitting here gawking at it. This is like walking into a museum. Wow.

how/where did you learn to draw, if you don’t mind me asking? your style is very painterly, so I’m curious if you had any sort of official education or if you just learned all of this on your own

also do you sell prints of your work anywhere? I seriously wanna put your Boothill piece up on my wall it’s so beautiful. (if paper was edible you know I’d be printing eat out and consuming. it’s so good. like oh my god.)

AHHH DUDE im literally kicking my feet blushing reading your repost of my boothill fanart omg youre too kind😭

I mean technically i do have official education bcs i went to a graphic design high school program and nowadays im also stumbling trough an illustration course in uni where we do a lot of painting with acryllics and traditional stuff like that which def contributed to my improvement but i learned the most about drawing just from other artists online and uhh.. copying other artists online when i was younger hehe.. i hate drawing when i dont want to so i didnt really take a lot from my education lmao id say copying/studying wlop and ruan jia when i was 16 did the most for my art bcs they both also draw in a very painterly way! At the end of the day nothing that a professor says to you can make you improve if you dont care about it enough so yeah idk im rambling now but just being excited about other peoples art is huge for improvement and is def how i learned to draw the way i do!

And AAHHHH THANK YOU i dont sell prints yet but i will probably start selling some on inprint very soon! I need at least 3 drawings that dont look painterly in the unfinished sense to get started on there so im workin on it- the boothill drawing is one of those that are ready to go so😈