#and also all of the speakers we use to play music in the back are dead right now and I just want to play music
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sluttyten · 1 year ago
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I still have 5 hours left in my shift 😭😭😭
#I just….#really wanna go home today#not having a good day. I started my period this morning and then I got to work and found out only me and one other opener were there but our#opening manager wasn’t here yet so she was late and we spent the next 20 minutes rushing to get everything set up before we opened#and then we immediately started getting customers and it’s just been busy and I’m tired and just don’t feel good bc of my period#and then so far I’ve had 2 of my least favorite customers come through the drive thru where I’m working#one is this dude who’s just fucking annoying another is the guy that asked for my number a few months ago who I haven’t seen since I turned#him down so I took his order and then made someone else deal with him at the window#and then it got busy with everyone ordering drinks like hot coffees which meant I had to walk from our drive thru out to the lobby bc my#coffees were out bc everyone wants coffee today but when I would do that I would still have to be taking orders#and then someone cleared a few specialty coffees off the barista screen without making them while the person was sitting in the drive thru#so I had to make those while doing other stuff too and people were asking me questions#and I was just getting very overstimulated and annoyed plus I’m hungry#and I just want to leave and go home and sleep but it’s my best friend’s birthday so she’s probably gonna want to do something later but I#just don’t feel up to it and I know she’s probably ready to hang out because she’s been off for 10 days with Covid so she’s well rested now#for her birthday but 😭😭😭 I just want to crash into my bed so hard and not wake up until noon tomorrow#also the coworker I work with every day and don’t like is here today unfortunately#and also all of the speakers we use to play music in the back are dead right now and I just want to play music#first world problems but I have so little patience today
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starkeyisthelastname · 5 months ago
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No bc imagine you’re over at pornstar!Rafe’s house one night and he hooks his phone up to his TV to play some music while you fuck and it immediately just starts blaring your solo porn. I would literally be so fuckin smug about it that he would fuck me within an inch of my life.😋 (I’d also never let him live it down, I’d be bringing that shit up when we were 50)
because your ego needs boosted too sometimes. just don’t get too excited about it. 💦🤩
Pornstar!Rafe didn’t invite girls over very often, his private space was his private space, so the fact he had started slowly inviting you over every week, was a big step to him. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, you two were strictly just fucking still. But…fuck did you look pretty, naked in his bed as your fingers played with your wet pussy.
He knew things were going to get loud, and with that he tore his eyes away from you to turn on his tv so that he could play music. It wasn’t music that played when the screen came to life, it was a familiar solo video that you had shot last year. Your sweet moans blared through the speaker, the realization that he had jerked off to your own porn for his pleasure definitely had your head feeling big.
The smirk on your face, had Rafe’s striking blue eyes flashing a darker color as he realized the power of control he had was slipping and you were winning this time. Just not for long… as the man had you folded in half, legs nearly behind your head as he slammed into your hole. Maybe he was embarrassed, but he wasn’t going to admit that. He’d rather fuck your life off with his dick.
“Yeah, who’s fuckin smirkin now?” Rafe spat at you, his large hands coming to nearly smother your face as he used it as support to drill into you.
You gasped, his dick hitting your cervix as his toned hips slapped against yours at his pussy ruining pace. “H-holy shit.. you are so fucking big…” You cried, eyes rolling back underneath his hands as he basically was trying to erase what you saw on his tv.
Whether you liked it or not, Rafe felt he had been caught showing his obsession with you too early for his liking and he needed to fuck it out of you. “Shut up, don’t wanna hear nothin out of that whore mouth unless it’s my fucking name.”
You could believe how deep he was, somehow his size still as shocking as the first time. You didn’t care how rough or nasty he was, you loved all of it and the only man’s name you wanted to be screaming for the rest of your life was Rafe Cameron.
“Rafe! Rafe! Rafe!” It was like a sweet desperate cry of pleasure the way he had you creaming all over his cock much like in the solo video he had watched. Except this was so much fucking better, his dirty self getting off on how you just kept babbling his name. There was no other bitch that compared to the moans and screams of his sweet fucking angel. Yeah his..
His hands that had been covering your face removed themselves, one going to squeeze your throat, and the other roughly grabbing your jaw. “What are you fucking doing to me, huh?” He asked, eyes dark and face serious, all while he completely fucked you up in the best, most addicting way possible.
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month ago
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haunted
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in which spencer reid takes you to a haunted house and you're being very brave about it... sort of.
fluff! warnings/tags: reader wears a skirt, reader is a scaredy cat!!, established relationship, kithing, my favs derek and penelope featured, haunted house stuff, talk about the physical composition of human eyeballs and mentions of harvesting them/eating them but it's not serious, FAKE very fake Halloween gore, I know those tags just escalated so quickly my bad, mention of a spooky clown, just haunted house stuff ok!! but its really not a scary fic I promise!!!! a/n: this is for my bff @gublersg1rl !!!! I hope u all like!!!!! Also yes the title was extremely creative I was feeling divinely inspired and revolutionary let’s not talk abt it
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“Okay, no, no—maybe we don’t have to go in. I don’t think it’s gonna be that good.”
As you say it you’re wearily eyeing the crowd of screaming teenagers who are sprinting from the haunted house attraction’s exit, leaving a trail a swirling leaves and candy wrappers in their wake. Spencer laughs, gently hugging you back to him as you subconsciously begin to drift away from the line. 
“I knew this would happen.”
“Nothing’s happening.”
“You’re scared. You want to chicken out.”
“I don’t,” you snap, stepping back and adjusting your sweater. “I’m just… I’m cold. I wanna go back to the car.” Spencer does some adjustments of his own, coming close and reaching around you as if going in for a hug but instead tugging your skirt down slightly in the back. You let him finish and then bat his hand away. “Would you stop that?”
“You said you were cold! I’m trying to help you.”
“By making my skirt one inch longer? That’s not going to help.”
He holds his hands up defensively. “Okay. Sorry. I won’t touch.”
Immediately your serrated edge is dulled and you lean against him, barely steering clear of a pout. “No, please. You’re warm. And you’ll protect me.”
He smiles down at you, cheeks and nose nipped sweet pink by the chilly breeze. His hair looks very nice today, his eyes are extra sparkly in the dark, and he’s framed by mostly bare tree branches scattered around the fairground—nothing more than dark palms clawing at the sky, a full white moon cradled in between black branches. The autumnal night is perhaps too cold for the tartan mini skirt you’d chosen, but Spencer told you it looked nice. Of course he doesn’t put up a fight when you slip your arms around his waist under his coat—only wraps his arms around you in return.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you. But between us Derek and Penelope will bear the brunt of the jump scares.”
“Who said my name?”
You look over your shoulder to where Penelope is shivering despite wearing her own and Derek’s coat, and Derek is eyeing the two of you, enjoying a bag of caramel corn like he doesn’t have a care in the world. 
“Don’t worry about it,” Spencer says, and you laugh to yourself, pulling him even closer like you’re trying to leech the warmth from his body. “Okay, you do have to face forward though. I don’t want you to trip.”
“No, Spencer!” You argue, but he’s already unlatching your arms from his middle and turning you in place. 
“You’re fine,” he chuckles, holding onto your hips. “I’m right here. Be brave.”
The line has begun to move forward again, and this time, it’s not stopping. Your heart pounds as at the behest of a teenaged bloody scarecrow you follow Derek and Penelope into the dark mouth of the red clapboard facade—a sort of farmhouse design that had seemed charming from afar and deeply sinister up close. Speakers play a loud creaking sound over spooky music and your eyes slowly adjust to reveal a foggy corridor lined with doors and creepy paintings.
As soon as the first evil little girl pops out of a doorway, you scream right along with Penelope. 
“Oh, my god,” Spencer laughs under his breath as you stop dead in your tracks, holding the group behind you up. When Penelope and Derek move on, you stay stuck, knowing that the threat has disappeared for the moment but still looms. Spencer gently ushers you forward. “Stay close behind Penelope, and it won’t be as scary. Come on, we have to keep going.”
“I hate this so much.”
But he ignores your comment, guiding you forward down the shadowy hallway and whispering the beginnings of a tangent over your shoulder. 
“You know, the first haunted house attraction was in London in 1915 at a fairground just like this. They picked up in America during the Great Depression as an attempt to distract young hooligans from resorting to property damage for fun.”
“Hooligans?” You mutter, teasing him even while terrified, carefully eyes the suspicious staircase leading up to a fenced in landing, shrouded in darkness. “We’re not going up there, are we?”
Just then a man with a sack over his head and bloody axe emerges from the black, launching himself down the stairs. Again, you scream, this time sprinting out of Spencer’s hold and through a cobweb veil into the next room. 
“Jesus fuck!” You gasp, clutching your chest as someone made up to be a sweet old grandma gone mad and soaked in blood and viscera turns around to greet you with a manic grin. 
“Oh, a pretty girl! Is that you, dear? My long lost granddaughter? Or did I put her in a pie?”
The acting is subpar at best, the script even worse, but what really discomforts you are the bloodied rubber limbs swinging from the ceiling and the fog machine in the corner that keeps burping out thick white clouds with a little hiss. You turn around, running directly into Spencer’s chest. He catches you by the waist and you cling to him, digging your feet in to try and stop either of you from proceeding any closer to your new friend. 
“And your lover—so handsome! Mm, what a delicious pairing you two’ll make! Maybe in my specialty cream of eyeball soup?”
She cackles. Spencer pushes you carefully forward as you peer over his lapel, and he actually stops to look into the woman’s pot as she stirs it. 
“Spencer—”
“You know—the human eyeball is by all accounts difficult to harvest without essentially popping the outer wall of muscle and connective tissue and then you’re losing the structure of the sphere—and stop me if you know this—but water constitutes about 98 percent of vitreous and aqueous humor which in turn make up eighty percent of the total volume of the eye so to say your soup would be cream of eyeball is—”
“Buddy, you’re holding up the line!” Someone shouts from behind, and Spencer offers an awkward apology to the grandma who was beginning to look more and more uncomfortable, hurrying you along through the kitchen from hell. 
“I cannot believe you just did that,” you hiss, still clinging to him. “That poor woman probably thinks you’re a serial killer now.”
“I was trying to humanize her for your benefit—”
Another scream from someone else, another cheap jump scare, cuts him off, and by this point you have your eyes squeezed shut, squeaking at every noise, and Spencer is damn near carrying you through the haunted house, walking you awkwardly backward through the various rooms. 
He cradles the back of your head and presses his lips to your ear as a chainsaw revs somewhere nearby and you hear Derek and Penelope yelping just ahead. “You’re being so brave,” Spencer murmurs, though you don’t miss the smile in his voice. "If I was a malevolent spectre I would definitely steer clear of you. I'd be too intimidated."
“Shut up. Ah!”
“Baby, that was a plant. You know the actors can’t touch you, right? You’re not in any danger.”
“I don’t like being scared, Spencer.”
“Then why did you suggest the haunted house? I said we should do the maze.”
“I don’t know! I—” another man popping out of the wall, another roar that you only hear, sequestered safely against your boyfriend’s coat. “Oh my god, are we almost done? I can’t do this anymore.”
“Yeah, the entrance is right ahead. No more actors, okay? I can see the whole room, it’s totally empty.”
“I bet that's what they want you to think, they lull you into a false sense of security and then—”
Cold air kisses the back of your legs as Spencer walks you toward the door, and the stifled soundscape widens again as you exit the house breathing air that doesn’t smell like sawdust and fog machine juice and fake blood. 
“Nope. We're really all done, see?”
“You survived! Oh my god, I survived!” Penelope calls, and you lift your head from Spencer’s chest, looking up at him. He’s grinning, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks. 
“You honestly handled that better than I thought you would. I actually think I saw the guy dressed as a clown jump when you screamed.”
“If I ever say I wanna do something scary again please don’t listen to me. I hated that so much.”
He examines your face for a moment before determining that despite your rattled nerves, you’ll be okay, and comforts you with a quick peck. “Do you wanna go get caramel apples now?”
“Yes, please. And then can we do the maze, and just like—I don’t know, sit there and… meditate for a little while?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. Just… don’t think about what could be lurking in the corn.”
You give him a little shove. “You know, I only did that haunted house thing because I know how much you love Halloween. I’m being a good girlfriend and what do I get?”
He pulls you close again and kisses your hand. 
“You get a caramel apple,” he says, like it’s obvious, and more than that—worth every trouble in the world. “Come on.”
You give him a begrudging smile and allow him to lead you, hand in hand. Maybe it is. 
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haologram · 2 months ago
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araneae 🕸️ k.sy
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🕸️ synopsis: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues.
🕸️ genre: friends with benefits au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers because it's the only trope ever ; ta x student dynamics ; fluff, angst & smut (surprise?)
🕸️ pairing: zoology ta!kwon soonyoung x marine biology major!reader | side pairings: joshua hong x sana minatozaki ; vernon chwe x roh jisun (fromis_9) ; lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) | mentions of: reader x yuta nakamoto (nct) ; reader x lee sangyeon (the boyz); hoshi x lee luda (wsjn) ; hoshi x choi yujin (kep1er/clc)
🕸️ word count: 18.9k (WE GOT IT UNDER 20K LETS GOOOOOO!)
🕸️ rating: 18+. minors do not interact i beg.
🕸️ warnings: this definitely more of their dynamic/relationship than him being her ta… ; mentions of knife play (none involved), alcohol, pink whitney gets its own warning as does everclear, mentions of un/protected sex (dw it'll get freaky later), mentions of cum, loss of virginity talk, mentions of marijuana (stoner!hoshi be off the honeypacks!!), mentions of STD testing (GET TESTED YOU FREAKS!) [smut warnings: multiple scenes ; mostly hoshi using sex as an apology ; oral (f. receiving) ; unprotected sex (hoshi x reader only) ; face sitting ; hoshi is a hopeless romantic and loves missionary ; they fuck mostly in their respective homes (read: he eats her out in a closet)] i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!
🕸️ what to listen to: good kisser - usher ; magic stick - lil' kim ; lie - bts ; spider - hoshi ; home - seventeen.
🕸️ author’s note: just an fyi, the smut is AWFUL and i'm not entirely happy with this🤩 but anyway, it’s finally here, the final installment of the seventeen ta collab!! special thanks to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of this wonderful success, and i hope to be involved in more collabs in the future (also thank you so much for your patience, i know waiting for me to be able to post was infuriating.) enjoy stoner!hoshi…loser!hoshi? loverboy!hoshi…also somewhat bitchless!hoshi.
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LAST YEAR – Sunday, October 23.
You were never opposed to a nice Halloween party. Lots of thematic drinks, stupid boys dressed as Ghostface trying to explore knife kinks, and girls going all out with their glitter make-up and tinsel in their hair for the optimal fairy costume.
You loved a good Halloween party, music blasting out of the speakers that were stolen from the AV Club by the softer version of the Beta Tau Omega brothers. Dancing with strangers in sweat-soaked facades, and waking up with smeared face paint all over your neck and shoulders from whatever disguised hook-up you'd taken home that night.
Last night's rager had to have been one for the books, because you have no idea how you ended up in this absolute mess of a bedroom – owned by none other than your close friend, Kwon Soonyoung. The same Kwon Soonyoung who also happens to TA the class you've put off taking for the last two years, and are set to start taking the upcoming spring semester.
The same Kwon Soonyoung that was related to the wife of the Dean, and the same Kwon Soonyoung that showed up everywhere stoned or ready to get stoned. The very same Kwon Soonyoung that made infused pre-rolls and edibles for nearly the entire campus…for free. Even you could see that was a horrible business call, and you were a Science major.
Soonyoung who helped people sneak kittens into their dorm rooms and make homes for them under lofted beds. Soonyoung, who taught a dance class and self-defense class back to back, so he was never free until after nine at night. Soonyoung who made hanging out seem like he was trying to get into your pants because he was just naturally flirtatious (and somehow, still absolutely bitchless.)
Soonyoung who you've kissed twice since meeting him two years ago, both times at Halloween parties hosted by his stupid fraternity. Soonyoung, who has had his hand up your skirt twice before someone interrupts you by asking if he has any weed at hand. He always does, and it's always in his car or his bedroom. He always goes, and a part of you, no matter how into it you may be, knows it's for the best.
He keeps his circle small, of friends that is. You were added to the mix sometime after your first Halloween party (and first kiss together) your freshman year, when he slammed into you in the middle of the economics hallway, breaking your laptop in the process. He'd felt so bad he took you to Best Buy that same night and shelled out two grand for a new one and even invited you out to lunch the next day.
He did not remember making out at all. To be fair, neither did you until the digital photos came back and he texted you a picture of the two of you kissing against the Beta Tau Omega insignia on the wall. You were so embarrassed you avoided him for a week after, but he quickly forced you out of your dorm for a movie night. The two of you became fast friends, bonding over silly little things and enjoying each other's company – but it didn't stop the rumors from flying that you were a freshman stealing a guy from the sophomores.
You remember that he adamantly denied any and every dating rumor flung your way, and even went as far as distancing himself from you for a bit – but when you tried to pull the same move he had earlier that year, he said maybe it was best for the two of you to remain friends from a distance. You didn't speak to him for the rest of the year, choosing to spend your time with friends your age and even dating a transfer student named Yuta Nakamoto, who was also in Soonyoung's year.
When word got around, Soonyoung was pissed – but didn't attempt to rekindle your friendship. He still followed you on Instagram, and still felt a bit of anger puddle in his stomach as he liked photo after photo of the two of you together, biting his tongue at the empty smile you held by his side.
This continued well into summer, and he saw the two of you take a trip to Jeju Island together, before breaking up the following week. Soonyoung heard from your friend, Nagyung, that he was transferring back and neither of you wanted to try long-distance.
The following school year, he watched as you got recruited by sorority after sorority – eventually joining his frat's sister sorority, Alpha Sigma Delta. You hardly had to rush, the girls actively pushing you to pledge and you were far too nice to say no.
You saw him again for the first time at the Halloween party planning, when you and your fellow pledges were tasked with helping the frat pledges in hauling in liquor. You weren't very happy about it, but Soonyoung whisked you away without a word from you, telling everyone that he needed your help with a certain task.
That task?
"Can we talk?"
And you did. You talked, and talked, and talked. He even left at one point to get drinks for the two of you, returning to you fishing through his bag of pre-rolls for the ones infused with lemon balm. He smiled, telling you they were in his car, and you rolled your eyes at it.
You kissed at that party, too. It went further this time – the two of you on Seungcheol's balcony. The idea had been to go up to the roof and get crossed, but it seems a rather tipsy Soonyoung had other ideas. You didn't mind it, in fact you encouraged it – you slipped his hand up your latex dress, you let him slip your panties down your legs.
"Hey, Hoshi! Do you have any pre-rolls?!"
Just as he'd started undoing his pants.
"Fuck, I'm sorry baby."
"It's fine."
You passed out in his bedroom that time, too tired to go back to the sorority house with your sisters. You got out of clean-up, and Soonyoung left you a kimbap roll and an electrolyte drink on his nightstand, with a note asking how you got there 'haha.'
It hadn't been fine. Again, neither of you remembered this happening until digitals were printed. And it was freshman year all over again – except this time, Soonyoung stuck around. Soonyoung defended you tooth and nail, and even dropped a few of his friends that bad-mouthed you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged, "Nothing wrong with kissing your friends every once in a while."
So, here you are. Again.
The third year in a row you and your stupid friend have made out, and somehow, you're in his bed. There's no other explanation as for why your underwear is across the room, hanging off his lamp and why his head is gently laying on your chest. There's literally no other explanation.
"Soonyoung." You rasp, patting his cheek. He doesn't stir, but pouts into your bare breast. "Soonyoung." You speak louder, shaking him slightly as he peels open one of his eyes.
"Yeah?"
It takes him a moment to realize that it's you, sprinkled with glitter from his eye look last night and practically doused in his saliva.
"Oh, fuck." He just furrows his brows, rolling off your chest with a groan. He sits up at the edge of the bed, surveying the room before realizing he's got no pants on. "Son of a bitch. Did we…Yup. Yup, it's right there."
His painted fingernails point at the discarded condom atop his dresser, flung hastily in a half-asleep attempt, most likely. You sigh, letting your head fall back on your pillow with a hmph. He does the same, his fingers only reaching up slightly to close the blinds with a jerk of the liftcord.
"You think it was good?" You ask with a small smile, and he snorts. "It was with you, I doubt it would've been bad."
Silence permeates the air again, before he sees your bare bottom half also covered in glitter. You have a tattoo on your hip that you didn't have when you first met. It's a stick-and-poke kitten. "Nice tattoo."
"Thanks, I got it on Jeju Island."
"When you and Yuta went?"
"Yup."
"Cool."
He sits up, peering down at you with tired eyes. "What'd you see in that guy, anyway?"
"Hm?"
"Yuta."
"Oh. You want the truth?"
It's like being nude in front of each other isn't a big deal. It's like having slept together after years of being in limbo means nothing. It's all so normal, the way you allow him to practically eye fuck you.
"I was sad you stopped being my friend."
He blinks at you, watching the way you carefully pick at a thread loose in his comforter. You pull it out, discarding it behind you with a soft smile. "Does that answer your question?"
"You fucked another guy because I stopped being your friend?" He asks incredulously, and you shrug. "Not just, but it was a large reason."
"You lost your virginity to him." His eyes are wide, and you shrug once more, nodding your head.
"Yup."
"Did he make you cum?"
"Soonyoung-"
"Did he?"
You sigh, patting his comforter. "Not the first couple of times, no. He got better at it, though. It was decent."
Nodding, he clears his throat.
"Do you think I-"
"Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much, just the Pink Whitney Mingyu gave me."
"Mingyu does love his Pink Whitney."
You flip onto your back again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Tucking your hands behind your head, you speak again. "Do you think I went down on you?"
"There's lipstick on my tip."
"What color?"
"Uhh…wine red."
You wipe a finger across your bottom lip, the small amount of residue a bloody, Cabernet red.
"Hm. Checks out."
The air feels…comfortable.
"Wanna shower?"
"Yeah."
"Can I shower with you?"
"Yeah, Soonie."
The two of you stretch simultaneously, before rolling to the side of the bed and standing up. He grabs the discarded condom off the dresser, holding it like a used tissue and taking it to the bin. You dig through his dresser for a towel, and he fishes out something for you to wear.
"Boxers okay?"
"Hm, I prefer briefs."
"On me or on you?"
"Your underwear choices are your business."
He holds up a pair of Spiderman briefs. You bite back your laugh and nod silently, extending your hand for them.
He disappears into his bathroom, flickering lights on and turning the shower head on. "Hot?"
"Boiling."
"Got it."
The both of you get in, and you close your eyes as the water pelts your back. Soonyoung says nothing as he moves your hair off your shoulders and away from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"You should've asked me." He mumbles, reaching for the shampoo in the caddy behind you. Peeling your eyes open, you look up at him with a confused stare. "Asked you for what?"
He shrugs, holding the shampoo bottle upside down over his hand and squirting some out. "I would've made you cum the first time."
You snort, shoving his chest lightly. "Yeah, well…you didn't. It's fine."
"This isn't weird to you?"
"What? Showering together?"
"After fucking, yeah."
"Could be worse."
"How?"
"I could be that girl you've been flirting with since last year, wondering when you're going to text her back."
"Who? Yujin?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not flirting with her, what made you think that?"
"Stolen glances, flirty touches, you give her pre-rolls all the time."
He rolls his eyes as he cards his fingers through your hair, his dull nails scrubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes flutter shut, and he huffs. "I give everyone pre-rolls."
"Because you're a horrible business magnate."
"No, because I'm nice."
You smile without opening your eyes, your hands reaching out to touch his chest. His body feels good under your fingertips, you realize. "Are you mad you don't remember any of it?"
"Furious." He mutters, gently tilting your head back to wash the soap out. You can't see the way he's looking at the sweet slope of your neck, just barely making out small nips of his teeth across your throat. Your necklace hangs nicely.
The rest of the shower remains silent, as he carefully washes you before himself. His attention to detail is insane, the way his fingers hold the washcloth taut so he can feel every inch of you. He has to commit this to memory.
After, you're drying your hair with a random t-shirt he gave you. He remembers you told him that towels can be too rough for your hair texture sometimes. It's only when you're brushing your teeth with a brand new toothbrush he pulled from his cabinets that he speaks.
"Let me change my bedsheets."
"Don't wanna lay in the sin of fucking your friend, do ya?"
The navy blue sheets are quickly replaced by ones with light grey ditsy floral print, and his comforter is shoved off and replaced by a few throw blankets. He watches as you change his pillowcases, only looking away when he hears his phone ping.
Msg From: Cheol
[9:32am] hosh
[9:32am] who is the girl in ur room and is she missing a pair of cat ears
"What was your costume last night?" He asks, and you snort. "I was a sexy witch."
He smiles to himself as he picks up his phone.
Msg To: Cheol
[9:33am] not missing a pair of cat ears
[9:34am] and it's y/n
Your head snaps up when you hear a pair of feet thundering up the stairs, followed by silence. You give him an odd look, only to hear excited giggles down the hall and the pitter-patter of two adult men coming towards Soonyoung's room. You cross your arms as you hear the door creak open, an expectant look on your face as Jeonghan and Seungcheol's noses appear through the crack.
"Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Jeonghan remarks sweetly, and you just roll your eyes.
"He wasn't bluffing." He whispers to Seungcheol, receiving an annoyed huff from Soonyoung. "If you're done intruding on my personal business, I'd appreciate it if you left. The pledges still need to clean up last night's mess."
Jeonghan gives you a wry look. "Can I say something and you don't get upset?"
"If it's about sex, I will punch you in that pretty face of yours." You say pointedly, fluffing the pillow in your hand before throwing it onto his bed. Jeonghan purses his lips, nodding before sliding out from under Seungcheol. He nods his head, a satisfied look on his face. "Have a good…don't fuck too loud, okay?"
Soonyoung barely misses Seungcheol's face with the charger he throws across the room, his giggle being heard in the hallway as he barrels down the stairs.
"Idiots." He huffs, running a hand through his damp hair as you flop onto the bed. "You don't mind if I stay here a bit? My head's killing me."
He lays down next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.
"You okay, Soonie?"
Turning only his head, he scans your face. Tired eyes lined with thick lashes, plump lips covered by the Aquaphor in his bathroom. Slightly unkempt brows and your shoulder tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt on your frame.
"Kitty?"
You grimace at the pet name, one he christened you with when the two of you met. He'd been dressed up as a cowboy, and dancing with a skeleton that was stolen from the comparative anatomy students (with the help of Junhui, of course.) He also had a lit joint between his fingers, one that sprinkled ash over your newly healed shoulder tattoo and made you yelp in pain.
"Shit, I'm sorry, kitty." He quickly put it out in a nearby ashtray, dusting your shoulder of any ash residue. "It's fine, it's fine. Just…can I get a hit?"
"Yeah?"
He sits up, leaning against his bed frame before looking down at you.
"Would it be weird if I asked to try again?"
You glance up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Try what again, exactly?"
He clears his throat, a beet red blush coating his cheeks. "You said Yuta didn't make you cum. And we don't know if I made you cum. So…can I have a redemption round?"
You've sat up at this point, a small laugh falling from your lips as you push your hair back, "You want to fuck me?"
"I can just go down on you, if, uh…if that's what you'd prefer." He stutters, mentally cursing himself. You glance at him, eyes scanning his face. "And we're still friends after this? You won't dump me?"
"I won't. I promise. Cross my heart, kitty." He holds his pinky finger out, insinuating you link yours. Sighing, you do just that. "Fine. Hop to, I want breakfast."
He moves to kiss you, but you give him yet another amused look. "What are you doing, Soonie?"
"...Kissing you?" He gives you a confused look, and you scoff out a laugh. "You said nothing about kissing, Kwon."
He gapes at you, "How am I supposed to connect our auras if we don't kiss? I can't get hard if I don't get kissed, you know. I can't properly engage with… her, if you don't let me kiss you." He sits back on his haunches, explaining each point to you. You bite back your laughter, nodding along.
"Sculptors start from scratch, Soonyoung. I am art, awaiting your expert touch." You shrug as he finishes his spiel, and he furrows his brows. "Fine."
Sinking down to his stomach in front of you, ringed fingers palming at your thighs. You sigh, sucking your teeth as he noses at your skin, placing kisses on your stomach.
You scoot back slightly, resting your back against his headboard. He looks up at you as you roll your eyes, beckoning him forward with your hand as you shimmy out of the stupid Spiderman briefs. "Make it fast."
"Won't take me that long, anyway." He mumbles, pushing his hair out of his face before placing a chaste kiss on your exposed slit. "How do you like it? Just tongue? Messy?"
"Whatever you want, though I'm not super into fingering at the same time." You shrug, your own carding through his shaggy locks and holding him in place. He smirks against your skin, "Don't need them."
His tongue swirls carefully around your clit, the motion far too practiced to be out of the ordinary for him. He leans into your soft gasp, the gentle buck of your hips enough to help him bury his face into your wet heat. "Spit on it." You whisper, and he does just as you ask.
The taste is tart and heady, spreading around his tongue and chin as he expertly sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves. His eyes are closed as he sloppily collects your arousal, your whines growing frustrated as he holds your hips down. "F-Faster, Soonie."
He rolls his eyes, annoyed at your inability to relax as he obnoxiously moans against you, the vibrations making you squirm. "You're so mean." You pout, feeling him smile into you. He shrugs, closing his eyes before returning to his ministrations.
He feels you shift, peeling open an eye to see your hand under your shirt, rolling your nipple through your fingers with your lip tucked between your teeth. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, using your ankle to pull you down to his level. Your eyes shoot open the moment his hands are on the hem of your (his) shirt, tugging it over your head. You're pliant, agreeing with whatever he wants to do when you feel him grab your face gently, "Can I kiss you?"
You can't bite back your smile, making him roll his eyes as he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You feel your stomach buzz a bit, feeling his half-hard cock through his boxers pressed against you. You cant your hips up softly, earning a hiss as he nips at your bottom lip.
"Thought you said you can't get hard without kissing, Soonie. Tsk, tsk." You mock him, before your fingers reach for the waistband of his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin.
"Take them off."
He snaps his head up to look at you, eyes wide as your hand dips below the waistband, gently wrapping around his length. He sighs at your touch, before pushing the underwear down his legs with his free hand. He reaches for the nightstand, digging out the box of condoms – empty.
"Fuck." He mutters, and you turn to see the empty box being flicked across the room. "Are you clean?" You ask with a click of your tongue, and he reaches in the same drawer and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you with a blush across his cheeks.
"A week ago." He whispers, and you shrug, tossing the results – all of which were negative – to the floor and smiling up at him. "Well, go on. You have a task to complete, Kwon."
"Are you sure?" He's talking to himself, dragging the tip of his cock through your wet folds, a soft whine from your lips as he circles your clit with his thumb. "Hurry up before I change my mind and tell everyone you can't make a girl cum."
Your threat is empty, he knows – but you see the way he rolls his eyes, easing the head of his cock into your aching hole. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, your fingernails digging into his back as he slowly bottoms out.
"Fuck." He mutters into your shoulder, before sinking his teeth into your skin and giving a slow thrust. A choked moan from your lips is his reward, as he sets a slow pace and drags his teeth across your chest. Your nails drag down his back gently as his tongue swirls around your nipple, making you whimper.
"Soonie.." Your whine is cut off by his hand across your mouth. "Don't, I'll cum." He admits against your chest, making you snort slightly. Your hand wraps around his wrist, pulling it off your mouth as you lean up to capture his lips in yours. It's sloppy but you don't care, feeling him roll his hips into yours slowly as your tongue slips into his mouth.
His whine into your mouth is nothing if not pitiful (read: hot.) Your laugh slips out as he readjusts his hold on you, folding your legs to your chest and fucking into you deeper. The new angle makes you let out a choked moan, his lips dragging along your jawline as he bullies his cock into you. 
It's almost like you can feel pride seeping through his pores as you whine into his skin, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your shoulder as he bites down softly. You're sure he's determined to ruin you for anyone else, his hand slipping between the two of you to toy with your clit.  The mix of sounds in his bedroom is obscene, but nothing is more embarrassing than the two of you jumping simultaneously when someone bangs on his door. Your hand flies over your mouth as they shout for you two to keep it down, making Soonyoung laugh, the tips of his ears turning pink as you clench around him. Your tummy starts to fill with warmth, the band threatening to snap as he peels your hand off your mouth for a searing kiss.
It's enough for the two of you to whimper, your fingers moving to curl into his hair, feeling the white-hot heat of your orgasm coursing through your body. He groans into your lips, and you can feel him fighting himself as he pulls out, his cum painting the stupid kitty tattoo on your hip.
The two of you are silent as you regain your composure, the room filled with soft pants as you brush your hair off your face. He clears his throat, and you almost instinctively roll your eyes as his question breaks the tension.
"On a scale of one to ten–" "I am not rating your stroke game, this is not RateMyDick.com."
His face buries into your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he scoffs out a laugh. Your fingernails trail lightly along his neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulders before he pushes off you.
"Pancakes?" He tilts his head, making you snort. "Are you paying?" "Fuck no, we can make Cheol buy." He scoffs, and you laugh fully this time. "Do you think Cheol feels like buying me the greasiest patty melt he can find?" "Whatever you want, kitty." He kisses the tip of your nose, making you scrunch it while pushing his head away. "That tickles, stop. Now get off me, I feel the need to spend Cheol's trustfund on food that will knock me out." He just smiles as he lifts himself off you, sliding off the bed in the direction of his bathroom. You can't help but feel a bit of anxiety pool in your lower belly, hearing the faucet running slowly before he reappears. You quickly smile, "You okay?" "Are you?" He echoes, his hand reaches for your thigh as he wipes you down gently with a damp washcloth. "Yeah, m'fine." He doesn't look convinced, giving you a raise of his brows as he tosses the washcloth to the side, offering his hand to help you sit up. When you do, he grabs the shirt you'd been wearing and carefully pulls it over your head – and if he feels the willful stare of your eyes on him, he says nothing about it.
"Are you having regrets?" He murmurs, reaching for the underwear he let you borrow. You sigh inwardly, shaking your head. "No. Just…it's silly."
"It's not silly, whatever it is you're feeling. We're friends, kitty. You can tell me." He shrugs, helping you up off the bed and leading you to the bathroom. "You're not gonna watch me pee, are you?" You tease, and he snorts.
"Do you want me to?" "Get out." He does. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the briefs on the sink. You sigh quietly, willing the negative thoughts away. You don't regret it, no – but it feels like your slight game of cat-and-mouse has ended. He's caught you, sunk his teeth into you and now you're dead.
You reach for the briefs, pulling them over your ankles and up to your knees while you sit. You hear him rustling around, before hearing the door to his room open and shut. A wave of sadness flows over you, and you wonder if he really meant it. That he wouldn't leave this time – he hadn't last year, after he took your underwear off in Seungcheol's room (and stuffed the pair of pink panties in his pocket – something you never heard the end of when Jeonghan found out they were yours.) Sighing once more, you finish your business, tossing the toilet paper in the can and amp yourself up as you wash your hands. "No big deal, Y/N. Friends fuck all the time. Right?" You hear the door to his room open again, and you turn the water off, shaking the excess water off your hands as you open the bathroom door. He glances up at you, holding a tray with a pitcher of water and electrolyte packets.
"You like watermelon, right? It's the only flavor we have left."  He says, and you nod quietly. "Yeah, that's fine."  
Flopping back onto his bed, you cover your bottom half with one of the throw blankets as he portions out the electrolytes. You reach over and open his nightstand drawer, fishing through for his Advil.
"Bottoms up." He hands you your glass, and you pop open the cap. "Yum, ibuprofen electrolyte cocktail." You mutter, shoving two in his hand before popping your own in your mouth.
The two of you clink glasses before chugging, mirroring each other's grimaces as you finish the liquid. He scrunches his nose, sliding the glass on the nightstand before laying back and moving like a worm to slide in next to you.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, grabbing his phone from in between the blankets and opening the Doordash app. You don't respond, opting to pull the blanket a little higher as you rest your head on his shoulder. He scrolls through mindlessly, before finding your favorite breakfast spot. The two of you found it during the summer, when neither of you went home and decided to take summer classes. You wound up taking Seungcheol's room while he went home with his girlfriend.
You don't like the wave of sadness you feel suddenly.
He's your friend. One could even say he's one of your best friends. What if this was a mistake?
You feel tears prick at your eyes.
"Can you hold me?" You murmur, and he doesn't even stop to think as he shuts his phone off and pulls you into him, his hand curling into the nape of your neck. His fingernails are lightly scratching at your scalp as he wraps himself around you, allowing you to snuggle into his chest. "I'm scared, Hosh."
You can't hold back the sniffle at that, but you can feel him tuck you further into his embrace. "I won't leave. I promise, I promise you I won't leave." He whispers, and you can hear the waver in his voice. He tries to mask it, pressing soft kisses to your hairline.
"What if this ruins our friendship?" You ask thickly, and you can feel him shake his head above you. "It won't. I won't let it. We can't let it."
He pulls back, his thumb coming to wipe under your eyes carefully. "I don't think I ever told you what I did when we stopped talking that year." "No," You laugh softly, reaching up to wipe his own face. "You didn't." "I slept with like six people that year." He scrunches his nose, before his eyes go wide. "No, five and a half."
"Half?" You question, and he nods. "Does it count? Like, if she went down on me but then her roommate walked in on us and she was too embarrassed to keep going?" "I think so?" "Okay, so six." "You're a slut." "Sue me, I was filling a void." He scoffs, and you just shake your head at him. "You could've just talked to me."
If he’s aware of your hypocrisy, he says nothing. "I am a flawed man, kitty. I have too much pride to admit my mistakes." He sighs, pushing your hair out of your face. "Yet here we are." You say pointedly, making him roll his eyes.
"Anyway, I don't regret this…us." He gestures between the two of you, before clearing his throat. "But, we don't have to speak about it, like, ever again if you do. It'll be like it never happened." Sighing, you roll onto your back, still pressed tightly against his torso. "That never works. I mean, Cheol and Hannie know, now, too." You scrunch your nose a bit at the idea of your friends' relentless teasing awaiting, but he shrugs. 
"Cheol owes me for that time I helped him replace his bed frame after Sowon broke it. I still can't believe they're dating, but it makes their chaos like, ten times worse." He groans, and you snicker. "Are we sure it wasn't Seungcheol who broke it? Last I heard, he's a freak." "He probably did, he had a bit of bruising around his wrists and there were cuffs attached to the bedposts." He says pointedly, before the two of you glance at each other quickly.
"No." He tongues his cheek to stop himself from smiling. "I didn't say anything." "You're thinking about it, Soonyoung. Stop it." "You literally let me cum on you."
You grimace up at him, and he snorts. “Sorry.”
“Just order the food, my stomach is about to start eating itself.” You roll your eyes, smacking him when you both feel his phone buzz. He grabs it, and you once more feel your stomach sink.
Msg From: choi yujin [10:49am] hey hoshi…r u busy? can i come over?
“Yikes.” He mutters, and you push the covers off. “I can go—”
“Shut up. Lay down.” He yanks your arm, making you fall back onto the pillows as he messages her back with one hand.
Msg From: choi yujin [10:50am] i am yeah [10:51am] let’s set a date to talk
“What if she wants to dump you?” You ponder aloud, watching as he reopens the Doordash app and adds your food to the cart. He shrugs, selecting an order of french toast. “Then she dumps me. I should care, right?” 
You just snort, making him smile inwardly as he wraps his arm around you. 
The two of you let your eyes eat, ordering little things and ignoring messages from Yujin. You feel bad, really, because Yujin is a sweet girl and your friend is a bit of an airhead at times.
“I’ll go get it when it’s here.” He yawns, stretching slightly and rebounding to wrap himself around you. “Or, we can bribe Mingyu with that order of eggs benedict we did not need to order.”
“Ha, true.” He nods, shooting a text to the man before tossing his phone behind him. “And kitty?”
“Yes, Soonie?”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
You glance down at him, noting the way his eyes are slightly heavy. You hold in your sigh — carding your fingers through blond locks. “Any time, Soonie.”
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PRESENT DAY — November 4th.
Unfortunately (for your achey, breaky heart) — Soonyoung took ‘any time’ literally.
You’d gone home later that afternoon, reluctantly prying yourself from Soonyoung’s arms and wiping a bit of syrup from his french toast off your lip. Not at all put there from him kissing you.
No way.
The two of you had fallen into a bit of a lockstep — he’d decided to add another semester to his schedule, admitting he felt overwhelmed by his classes. You were just happy you’d have your friend around for a bit longer, and most of the other frat brothers felt the same.
However, with great sacrifice comes great responsibility — Soonyoung had a lot of free time, and you were only taking four classes a semester as it was. He would come over to your room at the sorority house, bring you dinner and help you study, and somehow the two of you would end up on your bed with his tongue between your legs. Or with his dick in your throat. Or, a fancier third option — turning the stereo on and fucking like rabbits.
Your housemates learned to hate Novacane by Frank Ocean.
But without fail, this happened at least once a week. Neither of you mentioned it after, with him leaving the next morning with a chaste kiss to your lips and a murmured have a good day, kitty. 
Your sorority sisters grew curious, and you admitted to them that the two of you were just fucking around. When word of this got around — because humans love to gossip — Soonyoung came over and the two of you sat down to discuss the dynamics of your…situationship.
And nothing changed.
The two of you admitted to each other that it was odd to behave like this. You were the first to confess that it helped you get your mind off things when you were stressed, to which he agreed. It ended with the two of you agreeing to resort to these meetups once or twice a week — and with him fucking his dick into you so slowly, you cried.
Granted, these meetups did not stop over the summer. Neither of you went home, once more opting to stay on campus for summer courses. This time, though — most of the brothers had gone home, and the two of you could not keep your hands off each other. You reminded yourself to still have to apologize to Chan for fucking in his room.
Not that Soonyoung didn’t already take the brunt of Chan’s wrath, but it was beyond you now.
This being said, your tradition of fucking around on Halloween had been upheld this year — but to the point where when you arrived, Mingyu did not offer you his bottle of Pink Whitney because Soonyoung had gotten you your own. You’d laughed, and Mingyu pouted as the two of you drank together.
Soonyoung found you a little after midnight, and you were barely tipsy when he whispered in your ear, asking if you wanted to go up to the roof. You nodded, putting your cowgirl hat on a rather mopey Mingyu — linking your pinkies with Soonyoung’s as he pulled you upstairs.
The two of you hadn’t seen each other much that week, because you had midterms. He offered you a hit of his joint before grabbing your jaw gently and using it as leverage to kiss you.
That night felt different — he took a bit longer to take your clothes off, he kissed you all over. Not that he didn’t normally do that, but it seemed as though he was trying to absorb you fully. You blamed it on the weed, but let him worship you on the roof of his frat house. 
You’d been on top for most of it — he doesn’t usually prefer it that way, Soonyoung was a missionary man through and through. You had noticed his glassy eyes as he ran his hands all over your body, and you asked him twice if he was okay. He nodded, kissing you both times before flipping you onto your back. He’d carried you back down to his room after you finished, locking his door behind him and running a shower for the two of you.
It gave you déjà vu.
That was a week ago. You hadn’t seen Soonyoung since, but a part of you didn’t mind the space. You’d felt a bit more that night, but you just blamed it on the Pink Whitney.
“Hey, pretty.” You look up, seeing Minghao walking towards you with a bag in his hand. The two of you had this study session in the back corner of the library every few days, but neither of you cared to admit that it was just an excuse to gossip together and watch America’s Next Top Model.
“Hey, Hao. How’re you?” You ask coolly, before making a show of opening your laptop and opening Hulu, pressing on ANTM and lowering the volume to mute. He snorts, opening the bag and sliding your portion on the table. “I’m good, pretty. However, I do have some intel from a little bird.”
He looks at you pointedly, and you scoff as you open your food. Inhaling deeply, you sigh before stabbing your fork into the pasta. You shrug, “Okay. What’s your intel?”
“That you and Hoshi fucked on the roof, and there’s photos of you making out.” He bites into a breadstick, and you roll your eyes. “There have been photos of us making out every year. This is nothing new.”
“I’m just saying. None of the photos in years past have had his hands under your shirt so shamelessly.” He shrugs, and you furrow your brow. “Hands under my shirt??”
You had worn a latex halter top. You’d never taken it off, and he’d only moved it aside when the two of you were on the roof to get a full view. “Yeah, you were a sexy cop, right? It’s all over the stupid underground site.”
You glance at him, wiping cream sauce off your lip. “I was a cowgirl, Minghao. I even put my hat on Mingyu.”
His eyes are wide as he chews, before his brows furrow and he gestures at the laptop.
You pause the muted show, shoving your fork into your plate before typing in the website. BetaTOU.com had been a domain purchased by the frat president from twelve years ago so they could share photos without being bitched at by the university. It was also a forum for complaints and suggestions. Everything was neatly kept and tagged with dates to stay organized, and if you wanted any photos taken down they were removed within the hour.
You scroll carefully, eyeing every photo of the frat brothers posted from last week. Mingyu wearing your hat is amongst the first few, and a back shot of you and Soonyoung with your pinkies linked walking up the stairs is right after it. You know it’s you, you can see the bracelet he gave you for your birthday dangling on your wrist.
You keep scrolling — Minghao doing a keg stand, Chan and Seokmin playing beer pong (and Chan getting Iced by Jihoon), and Vernon making out with two girls at once. Slut.
You begin to nibble on your fingernails as you scroll further, finally landing on a photo of Soonyoung and Yujin making out in front of one of the bathrooms at the Beta Tau house. You scoff out a laugh, her hat on his head and his hands, yup, under her shirt.
“Sexy cop, meet a big, fat liar.” You scowl, closing the laptop and jerking back in your chair, pulling your knees up to balance your takeout plate on. Minghao peers at you, watching as you angrily shovel pasta into your mouth. “Slow down, pretty. You’ll choke and I don’t know first aid.”
Shaking your head, “We literally fucked that night, Hao. That had to have happened before, because I literally showered and spent the night in his room.” 
If he notes the hurt in your voice, he doesn’t mention it. He sighs instead, shaking his head before his hand finds your limp one in your lap. “Are you guys exclusive?”
“No.” You answer quickly, trying to shrug it off as he squeezes your hand lightly. “Don’t do that, obviously you have feelings for him, Y/N.”
“I do not.” You refute. “And even if I did, there are too many negative factors to being in a relationship with him.”
“Like what?” Minghao rolls his eyes, making you scoff.
“Like the fact that he hasn’t spoken to me all week? Like the fact that he’s a whore?” You say all of this like it’s common knowledge, and Minghao gives you an amused look.
“Not as much as Vernon.”
“Not relevant, Hao.”
Minghao shrugs, sitting back as he tears another piece of his breadstick off. You pout, letting go of his hand the moment you hear your phone buzz on the table. Reaching for it, you hand it to Minghao without a second glance.
“It’s Hoshi.”
“Read it and let me know if I should answer.”
Msg From: Soonyoung 🐯🩷
[4:32pm] kitty [4:34pm] please don’t be upset [4:35pm] can we talk? i can swing by the house tonight?
You roll your eyes, hating the way your nose burns as tears gather in your eyes.
Okay. You weren’t dumb.
You knew you’d catch feelings eventually. It was inevitable — Soonyoung was a good fuck, of course, but…something was different. He was sweet, he was doting and attentive. He soon learned your favorite flavor of electrolytes were never ones the frat kept in stock because Mingyu finished them all, so he bought you your own stash for his bedroom. He invited you to the dance class he taught, urging you to go and watch him dance to Fergalicious with the older women who lived in your college town.
Grimacing at your inner monologue, you reach for your phone from Minghao.
Msg To: Soonyoung 🐯🩷 [4:38pm] why would i be upset [4:39pm] and no, i’ve got things i need to do tonight. sorry.
“The guy is definitely gonna agonize over this tonight.” Minghao mentions, making a smoking motion with his fingers. It makes you crack a smile, and you turn your phone on silent before opening the laptop again, switching back to your show and pressing play.
The two of you avoid your Advanced Calculus work on the table, watching as students file in and out of the library — most of them eyeing your plates of takeout before finding a seat.
You can’t help but think about the photo of Soonyoung and Yujin. You’d never had anything against Yujin, and you never would — it made no sense to resent her when Soonyoung is the one who owed you loyalty.
Not that he actually did, anyway — the two of you were not exclusive. You’d been the one to bring it up. He simply set that in place, sending you his STD panel results every few weeks. 
You didn’t have to do the same. You didn’t fuck anyone but him.
Minghao walks you home, the two of you filling the air with chatter of missing Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua. The three had graduated, but had come to the Beta Tau Halloween party to visit. All in tow with their girlfriends, of which Joshua’s was still a student at the University and a part of your sorority — Sana Minatozaki.  
“Can we do Thai next week? I know your birthday is on Thursday, and I’m sure you don’t wanna spend it with me.” You snort as you reach the front of the house, seeing Momo and Yerin sitting on the steps with ice cream in their hands. They wave at Minghao, who waves back.
“Nonsense, pretty. It’s a Thursday and I’m tired of parties.” He yawns, stretching slightly. You snicker, giving him a one-armed hug as you bid your goodbye. He doesn’t leave as you trek up the stairs, greeting your sorority sisters as you yank open the front door.
Sighing, you let a bit of emotion take over as a few tears trickle down your face. You jog up the stairs, slipping your sweater off and hanging it on the coat rack by the handrail on the third floor. You wipe at your face, annoyed at the sinking feeling of your heart as you toe your shoes off, shoving them on the shelf by the coat rack.
“Shower. That’s what I need.” You murmur, heading down the hallway to your room. Your door is slightly ajar, but you figure one of your sisters must’ve gone in to borrow something. You get closer, flinging the door open when you reach it and seeing Soonyoung sitting at the foot of your bed with a bag in his hands.
You blink at him, noting the redness in his ears as he takes you in. Neither of you speak, and he watches as you slide your bag into your desk chair, unpacking your belongings onto your desk where they usually go. He stares as you take a sip from your water bottle, before leaning against your desk, arms crossed.
“I can explain.” He starts, and you tongue your cheek. “Explain what? Maybe why you’re in my bedroom? I did say I was busy, Soonyoung.”
“Don’t do that, don’t be mad.” He whines at the sound of his name, and you furrow your brows. “I’m not mad, dude. What are you on?”
“It was a mistake, okay? I was looking for you and she—” You cut him off with a hand in the air, the words you know he hates to hear slipping from your lips.
“We’re not exclusive, Soonyoung. You can kiss whoever you want, you can fuck whoever you want. As long as you keep getting tested and it comes back clean, I don’t care.” You lie through your teeth, and he stands, putting the bag on your desk. You see his hands clench slightly around nothing as they reach his sides.
“I’m still sorry.” He murmurs, and you roll your eyes. Shaking your head, you begin to slip your shirt over your head. “I’m gonna shower. Feel free to stay, or go. I don’t care.”
“Okay.” He flops back on your bed, and you walk into your bathroom silently. Turning the water on, you strip and step inside, basking in the heat of the steam.
What were the two of you really doing? He was going to be the teacher’s assistant in your Zoology class next semester. You couldn’t really risk people thinking you were fucking him for your grades — it would put both of you at risk.
Professor Kwon was also a notoriously absent teacher, with her TAs from the past saying she was rarely in class. However, complaints resulted in simply receiving a large sum of money from her at the end of the year — and you found out through Soonyoung that Professor Kwon was married to the Dean.
And how does Soonyoung know that?
Professor Kwon is his aunt. She trusted that Soonyoung would be able to take over the class because he wasn’t particularly squeamish, and she knew all about his bad habit of sneaking stray kittens into dorm rooms. And his bad habit of being high as fuck — not that she was any better, though her vice was vacations, not weed.
He was smart, Soonyoung. You knew he was — his transcript was full of advanced math and science classes, and you saw one B in the extensive packet. Yes, a packet. 
He took Zoology last year, even if it wasn’t part of his major. When you think of it, you don’t even really know what his major is — he just does whatever for the sake of it. It’s like he’s only really here to be entertained — and you don’t blame him.
Your passion for animals is also something that brought you and Soonyoung together. While he cared about the ones in the more vegetative biodomes — savannahs, tropical rainforests…the like. You, on the other hand, were one with the water — you loved fish, cephalopods, crustaceans. You had a small angelfish tattoo on your ankle, one Soonyoung constantly kissed if you were in missionary.
The two of you bonded over documentaries, even if the night ended with the two of you fooling around. You remember the night you watched Aliens of The Deep — you tied him to your radiator because he wouldn’t stop grinding his dick against your ass. You fucked him after, sure, but James Cameron deserved to have his documentary cherished.
Wringing your hair out of excess water, you step out of the shower, grabbing your towel off the rack and wrapping it around yourself. Opening the door, you see Soonyoung lying on your bed with his eyes closed, earphones plugged into his phone. As you lean closer, you hear a song reminiscent of Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry.
Snorting, you nudge his leg with your foot, making him peel his eyes open. He pulls out one of the earphones, “Yes?”
“What are you doing? Why are you listening to Fergie?” You ask, moving past him to rummage your dresser for underwear. He sighs, “Because I feel bad.”
“Soonyoung, you kissed Yujin. It’s not the end of the world.” You say pointedly, feeling him get up and crowd your space. You feel his lips press to your damp shoulder, “You say that, but I feel like I betrayed you or something.”
Scoffing, you turn, tucking the corner of your towel under your armpit. “You fuck plenty of other girls. Why is kissing Yujin any different?”
“I only kiss you.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “I’m supposed to believe you?”
“Yes. I only kiss you when we fuck. I only kiss you in general. I don’t kiss the other girls, not that there have been many since this started.” He states matter-of-factly, and you struggle not to roll your eyes again. “You send me your STD results every few weeks, Soonyoung. That means there are other girls.”
“There hasn’t been for a few months. I just get tested regularly because it’s a habit. And they give me free condoms and lube so I save money.” He shrugs, making you scoff out a laugh.
“Soonyoung—”
“Stop, I don’t like it when you call me that.”
You eye him, “That’s your name.” 
He shakes his head, “Not to you, it’s not. You only call me that when you’re mad.” His fingers push your hair off your face, and it takes all your willpower not to lean into his touch. He notices your internal struggle, curling his fingers around the shell of your ear, playing with your piercings carefully.
“I don’t want you to see other people.” He blurts, making your eyes go wide before you furrow your brows. Crossing your arms across your chest, you frown. “You see other people.”
“Then punish me for it. I’ll even let you tie me to the radiator again.” He’s flushing beet red, his hand now toying with a loose thread on your towel. It’s oddly reminiscent of your first (or…second) time together. “I’ll even leave you alone for a few weeks, if you want. I won’t fuck anyone else, either.”
You feel a bit taken aback at his offers, knowing that Soonyoung wouldn’t bring any of it up if he didn’t truly feel as though he’d wronged you. “Soonyoung, I really mean it. I’m not upset.”
You’re lying, but you also know his form of apologizing is just way too sincere. You can’t, in good faith, let him simmer in the guilt any longer. Probably why he didn’t speak to you for a week.
He doesn’t reply, opting to glance at the corner of your towel. He reaches for it, his eyes meeting yours as if asking for permission. You blink in response, untucking the towel on your own accord. He hesitates as his knuckles brush the skin of your hips, making you shiver. The towel drops as he leans in to kiss you, and you notice you don’t mind the slightly chapped lips.
He kisses you deeply, like he wants you to know his innermost feelings. His arm circles around your waist, pulling you flush to him as his other hand holds your face gingerly. “I’m sorry, kitty.” He murmurs against your lips, not bothering to allow you to respond as he reconnects your lips, walking backwards towards your bed.
His knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits, pulling you onto his lap. The soft material of his sweatpants tented up around his cock, brushing against your center as you lean the two of you back, his back hitting your comforter. He maneuvers the two of you fully onto the bed, his head resting against your pillows as you lick into his mouth. His fingers circle your upper thighs, urging you to lift yourself up.
“What’s wrong?” You scan his eyes, feeling him push you further, your hands now on either side of his head. “I wanna show you how sorry I am. Sit on my face, suffocate me.”
You hadn’t done this yet. He’d asked in sessions past, but you’d been a bit hesitant. “What about you, though? I don’t—”
“Don’t worry about me.” He kisses you softly again, fingers tapping the backs of your thighs to urge you higher. “Are you sure?”
“If I die, I die happy.” He shrugs, and you sigh as you inch up, before grabbing your headboard for moral support. You sink down slowly, feeling his nose bump your clit slightly. You hover for a moment, hearing him sigh before pulling you down the rest of the way.
His tongue is flat against your pussy, making you shiver and clench around nothing. He licks at you with precision, gathering your arousal before wrapping his lips around your clit with a soft suck. You bite back a whine, your hips grinding against his face involuntarily. He moans against you, digging his dull nails into your hips.
You continue rocking against him, soft moans from your lips as he eagerly takes whatever you give him. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging gently as you feel the heat start to pool in your belly. His hand wanders up, skilled fingers rolling your nipple between them at the same pace of your clit being swirled by his tongue.
“Soonie—” You whimper, canting your hips a little faster as he runs his hands all over your body, groaning against your pussy. Your thighs clench around his head as you cum, feeling slightly overstimulated as his tongue fucks into you slowly. You try to get up, but your shaky legs betray you as Soonyoung pulls you back down, the slurping sound from his mouth obscene as you twitch in his hold. “S’too much…”
Pushing his head back, you pry yourself out of his hold, shakily settling yourself next to him. You take a glance at him, his eyes closed as the back of his hand wipes his mouth. “Am I forgiven?”
“You were never in trouble, Soonie.” You roll your eyes, flopping your head against his shoulder. He scoffs, “You’re my best friend. I’m pretty sure I can tell when you’re upset with me.”
Hearing you huff, he knows he’s right. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t need to finish?” You murmur, eyeing the strain of his cock against his sweatpants.
He shakes his head, “I don’t deserve it right now. I hurt you, and that was shitty of me.”
You sigh. “So what does this mean?”
“It means I want to be exclusive. You’re the only girl I hang out with, anyway.” He shrugs, a pained look on his face as adjusts himself in his pants. You feel some guilt settle in your stomach at this, and you shake your head. “I don’t think we should keep doing this, actually.”
He glances down at you, before you sit up and slide off your bed. You move back to your dresser, digging out random clothes and pulling them on as he stares.
“What?”
“I want to focus on school.” You wince as the sentence slips past your lips. It wasn’t a lie, you did want to — but it was also because he’d be your TA next semester. Better to cut the cord now than continue to put yourselves at risk of being found out.
“So you’re…what? Are we still friends?”
You look over at him, an obviously hurt expression on his face as he brings his knees to his chest. “Of course we’re still friends, Soonie.”
He nods, tonguing his cheek as he stands up. “Sure thing. I’m sorry if my expectations made you uncomfortable.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he grabs his shoes at the door, and you blink at him.
“You’re not…You’re leaving?” You gape, and he gives you a quizzical look. “What, did you want to cuddle?”
It doesn’t have any malice behind it. His tone is level, it’s friendly. But you can’t help and feel a bit small at his words. He gives you a curt nod. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”
And he closes the door behind him. You scoff out a breath, feeling a tear spill down your cheek as you run your hands through your hair. It’s still damp at the roots, and you just shake your head to yourself as you remember the bag he set on your desk.
You click your tongue at it, before ripping it open. It’s a Jellycat octopus in blue and a handmade card. It has doodles of fish all over it in colored pencil, and an angelfish holding a badly drawn tiger in the corner. You open it to see his handwriting messily scrawled across the cardstock.
Hi, Kitty.
I assume by this point you’ve seen the photos on BTOU, and I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you all week. I saw them on Wednesday morning right when I was going to leave to ask if you wanted to get breakfast with me, so I made the dumbass decision to just ghost entirely. It was an asshole move and I’m sorry.
I did want to talk to you, though. And it’s totally fine if you don’t agree, I just figured I’d give it a shot?
The two of us are…relatively close. I mean, I can’t think of anyone I trust more than you…you’ve seen me in various stages of my life. Uhm, I’m not ready for a relationship but I’m also unsure if we’re on the same page about that, so I wanted to ask if we could, for the rest of the year, make this an exclusive…situation? I don’t see other people and neither do you?
I guess that’s like dating. We can talk about it more in person, if you want. Maybe we can come to a consensus and I don’t know. But you get me, right? You always get me.
Anyway. I’m sorry. And I hope you’ll accept this card and the little octopus guy as a token of my sincere appreciation for you. I named him Inky Minaj, but feel free to change it.
Yours (hopefully),
Hoshi ♡🐯
You don’t realize you’re crying until you see a tear drop right onto his doodle of a tiger next to his name. The octopus stares back at you, and you sniffle as you put it on your bed.
This is for the best. It has to be. Kwon Soonyoung cannot like you and you cannot like him.
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January 13th.
“Hello, everyone! I am Professor Kwon, and this is Zoology!”
The dreaded class was finally here.
You and Soonyoung were a bit awkward at first — sure, the initial sting of rejection made him distance himself a bit, but he got over it pretty quickly. He came over to the house often, bringing takeout with him and new documentaries he’d rented from the university’s library. He always stayed at least a foot away from you — in early December, he’d accidentally kissed you in greeting, leading the rest of the hangout to be full of unresolved tension.
So much so that he left early.
Aside from that incident, it was like the two of you had never seen each other naked. You both scrunched your noses at your friends’ jabs, leaving them with confused looks. Minghao was the one to tell the frat brothers the news that the two of you were no longer sleeping together.
Minghao also knew that you had a raging heart boner for Soonyoung. He was all you’d talked about in the passing weeks — Minghao even subjected his family to your babble about Soonyoung when he answered your FaceTime calls over winter break. He sighed as you droned on about the man, but allowed it anyway.
“This is my Teacher’s Assistant, Kwon Soonyoung. You will be seeing more of him than of me this year, I have a very crammed schedule. This being said, Soonyoung will go through the syllabus with you and the first lesson of the semester. I will be here on Wednesday, so don’t fret! You still get to have one-on-one time with me.” Professor Kwon smiles, and you glance at Soonyoung, who is already looking at you. You raise your brows, and he shrugs, making a smoking motion.
He’s stoned.
Professor Kwon bids her goodbyes, leaving a very stoned Soonyoung to take over her class. A few girls in the front (that you don’t recognize) are giggling as he passes out the paper syllabus.
“Kitty.” He murmurs with a soft smirk as he slides your paper on your desk, and you scowl. “Shut up.”
He just smiles as he starts walking around and talking about the syllabus — how you can only miss six classes this semester but if you’re nice, he’ll count you present anyway. How his favorite lesson is the one about the three-spined stickleback fish, and how it’s refreshed at least three or four times throughout the course. He talks about how he fully believes that the Bubonic Plague was an experiment made by the government to kill innocent rodents and that his office hours are generally whenever, just shoot me an email.
The class wraps up rather quickly, with Soonyoung assigning reading based on the ethology of geese. You snort at it, hiking your bag over your shoulder as everyone starts to file out. He grabs your elbow as you walk past him, earning a few looks from the girls who had been giggling earlier — and drapes his arm over your shoulders as the two of you saunter out together.
“What the fuck was that for?” You ask as he walks the both of you towards your place, and he shrugs. “They were staring a little hard.”
“What, so I’m your saving grace?” You roll your eyes, but don’t push him away as he tucks you further into his chest. Soonyoung had always been touchy, so you didn’t care. “Of course. I don’t want to deal with a bunch of sophomores hitting on me.”
“Oh, because Kwon Soonyoung, frat boy and resident weed dealer is sooo desirable.” You mock, and he snorts. “I mean, you fucked me for a year, I would hope I’m desirable.”
You elbow him right in the ribs, making him let out a pained noise as he smacks your arm lightly. “What’d you do that for?! I’m not wrong!”
“Whatever! Anyway, are you going to the stoplight party this weekend? We’re hosting.” You ask, fishing your phone out of your pocket to send him the invite. “Oh, I’m not sure. I'm gonna take Seungkwan out for dinner on Thursday, and I’m probably hanging out with Luda on Saturday.”
He stretches, and you feel your stomach sink.
Lee Luda was what the campus referred to as a frat sweetheart. Her family had a huge legacy of going to SNU, and her father actually owned the property where the Alpha Psi Delta fraternity house was built. She was very close with the entire fraternity and had been involved in their charity and party planning since she was a freshman, her ex-boyfriend being a junior and her brother a senior when she was elected.
She was very sweet, very smart and extremely pretty. You'd gotten to know her a bit last year, she was a Biology major and you shared a lot of the same courses.
“Oh. They’re throwing a birthday party for Juyeon, right?” You nod as he does the same, before looping your arms together. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch and you can tell me how good I did on my first day as your TA.”
“What is it with you and ratings?”
He just laughs, pulling you closer again. You pretend your cheeks don’t burn at the proximity and the soft scent of his cologne.
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January 18th.
It seemed the first week back from holidays really did a number on the student body — nearly everyone who came to the stoplight party hosted by your sorority was white-girl wasted. Seungkwan profusely cried over the little cupcake you presented him, apologizing for his birthday being on a Thursday. He took it and you later found him with strawberry frosting all over his chin and mouth.
It was well past two in the morning, and the party was still going pretty strong. You, Momo and Yerin were running around topping off drinks and manning stations, and you had sent Chan and Minghao to get more liquor from the store down the road. They were the only sober ones amongst the Beta Tau brothers, and Mingyu was dancing on the coffee table with Wonwoo and Jun — all of them wasted off Pink Whitney.
That damn Pink Whitney.
You roll your eyes as you clean up, humming along to Kid Cudi when you sense a disturbance in the force.
“Hey!” You hear someone shout over the music, and you turn to see Soonyoung, Luda and Juyeon next to you. Soonyoung and Luda have grabbed yellow cups, and Juyeon has a red one. You see a few more of the Delta brothers stroll in behind them, helping themselves to the alcohol on your table.
“Hey! What’re you guys doing here? I thought you were celebrating Juyeon!” You shout back, and Luda shrugs. “Yeah, well Sangyeon and Hyunjae said you guys were having a stoplight! You don’t mind, right? Hyunjae said you were cool!”
You shake your head, gesturing to the bottles. “Not at all! Help yourselves, but Minghao and Chan should be back soon with more Malibu and Svedka.”
Luda gives you a cheery smile and grabs for the Everclear, and you bid the men behind her a quick goodbye as you continue into the kitchen to clean up. You grimace at the sight of vomit in the corner by your pantry, and you open your fridge to get out some baking soda when you see Soonyoung’s feet in front of you.
You glance up at him, seeing a quizzical look as you grab the baking soda. “What’s up, Hosh?” You ask, before squatting by the vomit to sprinkle the baking soda on it.
“You’re wearing red!” He says, gesturing to your red dress. You look down at the dress you were wearing — you’d bought it last year, and wore it to his birthday dinner. He’d stared at you the entire evening before dragging you out to his car and fucking you in the parking lot.
Safe to say that neither of you went back into the restaurant.
“Oh, this? I just don’t feel like flirting tonight.” You shrug, and he leans against the counter when you speak again. “You have a yellow cup! Why?”
“Seeing someone here and there.” He shrugs, and you nod, choosing to swallow your questions. When the fuck did he even find the time?
“Nice!” You exclaim, putting the wet sign over the vomit and deciding to deal with it later. You stand, tugging your dress down your legs a bit more before giving him a curt nod and exiting the kitchen.
Minghao and Chan had arrived and helped Yerin and Momo haul in the liquor, stacking it across the table in the dining area. Hyunjae and Sangyeon had joined Vernon, Jihoon and Seokmin in playing beer pong on the second floor, and you hauled ass up the stairs to join in. Vernon is holding a lit joint between his fingers as he makes the bitch cup, a scowl on his face as Sangyeon chuckles.
“Hey, Vern. Can I take a hit?” You tap his shoulder, and he hands it to you before ruffling your hair. “Hey, pretty. Why’re you here? Not having fun downstairs?”
“Shut up and drink your bitch cup.” You roll your eyes, and he smirks as he downs the cup. He rearranges his cups into a different shape, and Sangyeon sinks a few as you finish off Vernon’s spliff.
“Damn, what’s got you so stressed out?” He asks, taking what's left and popping it between his lips. “Ugh, nothing. I’m just annoyed.” You roll your eyes as their game ends, and you grab a few beer cans to start a new one.
“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Y/N!” You hear Hyunjae call from the end of the table, and you just smile and shake your head. “I’m not! I just don’t feel like dry humping a stranger tonight.”
“I’m not a stranger.” Sangyeon says, and you look up at him. He’s peering at you over his cup, the green reflecting off his silver watch. “You’re right.” You shrug, and finish pouring the cups.
“Way to be subtle.” Vernon rolls his eyes, and you smirk. “Don’t worry, Nonnie. You’ll find someone tonight.” Pinching his cheek, you shove him with your hip and settle between him and Jihoon, who steadies you with his hand ghosting over your back. Seokmin makes the first shot for the other team, the ball bouncing into the first cup.
You play for a bit, grimacing every time you down the cups of beer. Eventually, you decide it’s time to just chill in the lounge, and Sangyeon, Jihoon and Hyunjae agree. Seokmin and Vernon admit they’re probably going to raid the fridge for snacks, and you give them a go-ahead as the other men follow you up to the lounge on the third floor.
You see a few of your sisters there, including Jennie and one of the graduated Beta Tau Sigma brothers, Taehyung. They’re canoodling on one of the beanbags, and she glances up at you as you flop onto the couch on the other side of the room.
“Hey, Y/N.” She calls gently, and you look up to see her holding her thumb up, moving it down to see how you’re feeling. You hold a thumbs up, and she nods, returning to her boyfriend. The guys that came with you are sprawled across the floor, with Sangyeon being the only one on the couch with you.
“The room is spinning.” Hyunjae pouts, and you let out a laugh when you hear the door open, looking up to see Vernon and Seokmin with their hands full of snacks, and Soonyoung in after them. He holds up a bag of pre-rolls, and you hold your hand out.
“Is that how you ask, kitty?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, fishing one out as you kneel on the couch, pushing the window behind you open. He tugs your skirt down a bit, and you turn back around to see him lighting the joint for you. “It’s lemon balm. I know you like those the best.”
“Thanks, Kwon.” You nod, taking it between your fingers as he sits on the floor, moving his head to be cradled by your knees. Your heels dig into his chest, and he peels off your shoes and tossed them to the side. Jennie and Taehyung slip out, with Jennie giving you a thumbs up once more. Once you mirror it, she’s out.
The group is quiet, seemingly trying to come down from their drunkenness when Sangyeon speaks. “Why kitty?”
“Huh?” Soonyoung looks up, and Sangyeon takes a sip from his cup. “You called Y/N kitty. Why?”
“Oh. I was a cat at the Halloween party we met at.” You shrug, and you notice Soonyoung’s brows furrow a bit. “That, and she has a kitty tattooed on her hip.”
You swat his shoulder, making him giggle when Sangyeon nods with wide eyes. “And how do you know that?”
“They used to fuck.” Vernon speaks up, popping a cheese curl into his mouth with the utmost nonchalant shrug. You gape at him, and he shoots you a wink. “Thanks, Hansol. Air out my business, why don’t you?”
“Okay. She also-” 
Jihoon claps his hand over Vernon’s mouth, and you roll your eyes as you offer the joint around the group. Hyunjae declines, handing it to Sangyeon. He gives you a glance, seeing you’re already looking at him.
"Isn't Hoshi the Zoology TA? Can't you guys get in some kind of trouble for that?" Hyunjae calls from the floor, making Soonyoung roll his eyes and Sangyeon clears his throat next to you. You glance at him, a stoney look on your face as you gesture to the lit joint in his hand. You're sure they want an answer – but if Soonyoung doesn't say anything, you sure as shit won't.
Taking the hit, Sangyeon passes it back to you and blows the smoke up and out. “That’s really smooth. Do you make these yourself, Hosh?”
“Yeah. It’s just a hobby.” He shrugs, lighting his own up and holding it between his lips. You roll your eyes, “This is also the same guy who rescues kittens for freshmen, teaches a dance class from seven to eight and a self-defense class from eight to nine every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Oh, that’s actually pretty cool. How much do you sell for?” Sangyeon asks, his eyes a little lower as he looks at you instead of Soonyoung, who is glaring. “I don’t, it’s free.”
“I tell him that he’s a horrible business magnate, Mr. President.” You tilt your own joint at him, and he smiles. “Mr. President?”
“Yeah! Aren’t you the Alpha Psi Delta President? I thought I heard about that from Luda last year.” You rest your head on the couch cushion, and notice the way he bites his lip as his eyes trail your body, before he meets your eyes with a nod.
You’re not the only one who notices.
Clearing his throat, Vernon tries to cut the weird tension in the air. “How about we play a game? Truth or dare, or something?”
“I’m the only girl up here, you better not make me do weird shit or your ass is grass.” You threaten, making him smile widely. “Why, I’d never—”
“Shut up, you were the same one who dared her to streak last year.” Seokmin shoves Vernon, and the group hears the door open — Luda, Minghao and Chan trail in with Yerin and Momo in tow.  
“Hey, guys!” Luda greets, and you feel Soonyoung nearly rip himself away from you to greet her. “Hey, Lu.”
“What’re we doing up here?” She asks, taking a seat next to Soonyoung. You grimace inwardly, before feeling Sangyeon’s hand on your knee. He gives you a look that says fix your face, and you inch closer to him now that Soonyoung is literally feet away from you.
“We were gonna do a round of truth or dare.” Jihoon pipes up from the floor, and you smile as the guy covers his eyes. Luda grins, “I’m in! Who’s gonna start?”
You wait until everyone settles, but you catch Minghao’s eyes. He gives you a confused look, his gaze darting to Sangyeon’s hand on your lap. You give him a hard look, and he just shakes his head as Hyunjae sits up to start the game.
“Okay, Luda.” He clears his throat, and she sits up at the sound of her name. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Boring!” Momo pipes up, and a soft giggle spreads through the group. Sangyeon inches a little closer to you, his thigh now touching yours as he rests his hand a little higher on your leg. It’s subtle enough. “What’s your body count?”
She snorts. “Four. Isn’t yours in the double digits?” She teases Hyunjae, who scoffs. “Uh, not that it’s any of your business, but my body count is three.”
The group laughs again, and you find yourself leaning your head against Sangyeon, who props his arm behind you. “Okay, uhm…Y/N!”
You hear Luda call your name, and you give her a wiggle of your brows. “Hit me.��
“Truth or dare?”
“Let’s go…truth. I’ll play it safe.” You shrug, and she smiles. Almost like a cheshire cat, like she knows all your secrets. “Would you sleep with anyone in this room?”
You look around, getting a suggestive brow wiggle from Seokmin and bursting into laughter. “Yeah. I mean, I have. It wouldn’t be weird, I think.”
“Oh, really? Who?” She probes, and you shake your finger at her. “It’s Truth or Dare, not Truth and Explain Yourself.”
She laughs, and you look around the room for your target. “Vernon, truth or dare?”
“I’ll bite, give me a dare.” He pops another cheese curl in his mouth, and you feel your lips tug up at the corners. “I dare you to text Jisun and tell her your feelings for her.”
“Is this payback for last year? It was either that or skinny dipping.” He says pointedly, and you only shrug. “Text her or you’re a wimp.”
“It’s like, twenty degrees outside, Y/N. What if I just streak and risk getting pneumonia?” He feigns distress, and you feel Sangyeon’s fingers gently caressing your shoulder. Is this foreplay?
“Alright, we can do a dare for a dare. Give me something to do, and if I chicken out, you don’t have to text her.” You take a hit of your joint, leaning forward and feeling Sangyeon’s arm fall down your back, fingers now holding your hip lightly. Vernon sees this, clicking his tongue. “Fine. I dare you to makeout with Sangyeon.”
You blink at Vernon, hearing the group collectively ooooh. You scoff, “That’s it? That’s tame as hell, Hansol.”
“You can’t fuck him.” He states, and you smile. “I’m only a woman, Vernon. I have needs.”
“Is anyone going to ask Sangyeon if he’s okay with that?” Luda interjects, and you can sense a bit of a bite in her tone. Sangyeon shrugs, “If Y/N’s cool then I’m cool.”
“How will we even know if they made out? They could lie.” She tries, and you smile at her. “I’m not shy, if you want to watch or something.” You tease, watching her cheeks turn beet red. She shakes her head, and Vernon gives you a pointed look.
“So? What do you say, pipsqueak?”
“Prepare to admit your feelings to the love of your life, Chwe.”
You get up, tugging Sangyeon up with you. You feel a pair of eyes on you, but when you glance over your shoulder, you see Soonyoung glaring at the two of you as you open the door. “We’ll be back.”
You lead him to your bedroom down the hall, hearing him clear his throat as you push the door open and are met with darkness. You fumble with the lamp on your desk for mood lighting, and he smiles down at you. 
“We don’t have to.” He murmurs, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingers aren’t as soft as Soonyoung’s. You shake your head, “If you’re down, I’m down. It’s been a while.”
He just smiles, tilting your head to meet your lips halfway. His lips are softer…you kind of miss the chapped feeling. You sigh into the kiss, your hands moving to his waist as he moves the two of you towards your bed. His hands trail down your waist, cupping your ass as he falls back onto your bed, pulling you on top of him. He groans softly as you adjust in his lap, and you feel his hips cant up.
"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, making you laugh. "Eagerness is never a bad thing." The kissing is fine. It's a little desperate, a little messy as you grind down on him, but it's not Soonyoung. You pull away, a pout on your lips as the heady feeling of him against your core fills your head. "Not into it, huh?" He asks, and a part of you thinks he's admitting to it, too.
"You like Luda, don't you?" You ask pointedly, and his eyes go wide. "How the fuck–" "Kind of hard not to notice when she's jumping the gun to save you from my grasp." You laugh, rolling off him to stare at your ceiling. Your arm brushes something soft, and you glance up to see the Jellycat octopus from Soonyoung, Inky Minaj.
"How long did you and Hoshi sleep together?" He asks, and you sigh. "About a year. We were playing some stupid game of cat and mouse for my first three years as a student here, then we fucked at the Halloween rager the frat holds every year. Neither of us remembered it, so we fucked the next morning and the rest is history."
He looks at you, and you peer at him through low eyes. "What?" "Nothing. Just kind of sounds like you like him." He says matter-of-factly, and you snort. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I kind of lied to myself for a while. I guess…I think once I realized that maybe he was starting to like me, I stopped it. I don't know. And him being my TA for Zoology definitely made me want to tread lightly." 
He nods, shifting uncomfortably. "Luda slept with him a few weeks ago. Around my birthday, I think." You shoot up almost immediately, turning to face him. "Luda and Soonyoung slept together? When? When is your birthday?" His face contorts into one that speaks I fucked up. "You didn't know? I thought you guys were like, best friends?"
"When, Sangyeon?" You probe, slapping his knee as he grimaces. "I don't know, like the eighth of November? I was out of town." "That son of a bitch." You scoff, and stand up. "Well. Let's go. I need Vernon to hop off my dick about his feelings and hop on Jisun's about them." "Maybe we should wait until you're not upset, Y/N." He says gently, and you groan. "I'm not upset, Soonyoung can fuck whoever he wants, whenever he wants. I'm not his keeper." "But you want to be, don't you?" He says pointedly, and you huff in response. "Come on, Mr. President. I've got a point to prove, and it's that I don't need Kwon Soonyoung to get laid." "We all already know that, pretty." He rolls his eyes, allowing you to lead him out. He shuts your door, and makes it a big show of fixing your skirt and wiping his lips of your gloss as you open the door to the lounge. Soonyoung and Luda are draped across the couch, and you lock eyes with him the moment you step inside the room. Minghao, unable to read the room for the first time, turns and cheers.
"Woo! How was it?" He asks, taking a swig from the bottle of Pink Whitney that somehow made its way upstairs. "Pretty good." You admit shyly, feeling Sangyeon sit on the ground with you. He pulls you onto his lap, and you give Vernon a knowing look.
"You gotta do it, Chwe." "Oh, come on! You hate me!" "I don't hate you, but I sure am tired of hearing you mope about Jisun." "How are you even coherent right now? You had two spliffs and a shitload of beer." You smile, wiggling your fingers for his phone. "Give it here, Chwe." He groans, handing it over to you. You unlock it, not unable to shake Soonyoung's eyes off you. You know he's eyeing the man holding you, because he shifts under you and even brushes the hem of your dress. You smirk to yourself as you scroll to Vernon's conversation with Jisun, seeing a pre-drafted message sitting in the text box.
Msg To: Roh Jisun (the loml who doesn't know she's the loml yet)
[4:31am] hi jisun. i just wanted to say that uhh i've liked you for a while and i know it's late (or early….wtv you prefer) and i do not expect you to answer this at all (because i'm a wimp) but if it's not a bother, i'd like to take you out. to dinner, maybe, or whatever you'd like to do. i know you like making jewelry, though, i know this cool jeweler in the city who does like,,,classes. maybe? sorry this is so awkward i'm nervous.
You read over it, and look at Vernon. He's blushing deeply, and you smile softly. "Just send it, Nonnie." "What if she says no?" "What if she says yes?" Momo speaks up, and you see her also taking a sip from the bottle of Pink Whitney. The group echoes her, and Vernon sighs. "Okay, fine. Fine! I'll send it and if she says no I'll just…act normal." He turns the screen to face everyone, pressing send with his ring finger and fully launching the phone across the room. "Well! That's that!" He smiles, reaching for the bottle of Pink Whitney and taking a long drink.
"Who's next?"
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February 7th.
Zoology with Soonyoung was not nearly as bad as you thought it was going to be. He stayed true to his word – if you were cool, he marked you present. If you were a douche, he marked you absent. His office hours were erratic, and you found it increasingly difficult to get a hold of him for the first few classes. He was always helping another classmate, or busy with his classes at the dance studio.
In other news, Sangyeon was avoiding you like the fucking plague. You'd waved at him a few days after the party, when you noticed a bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He greeted you quickly, before leaving you practically in the dust. Luda was also increasingly cold to you, but you just assumed it was over one of the boys – whether it was Soonyoung or Sangyeon was beyond you.
Vernon actually managed to woo Jisun. She was charmed by his general awkwardness, and when she texted you about it, you laughed and told her that it was the most outward emotion you'd seen him exude since you'd known the guy. She laughed and said he was sweet, and that she'd let you know how the date went. Vernon screamed in your messages about it and stated "I hope you get the best head in the world."
Speaking of getting the best head in the world, you finally caught Soonyoung in the hallway today, asking him if you could have an impromptu study session in the library later. He sighed, checking his watch and agreeing rather reluctantly. You grimaced, and told him you didn't have to ask him, you could very well just join the Zoology study group that met twice a week.
He apologized and said he'd book the study room for five, and that he'd meet you there.
Well, it's now six and the two of you have done nothing but bicker. You'd asked about Lorenz and what he meant about the transposibility of key stimuli, to which he'd just scoffed and said that you'd know all about key stimuli.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You spit, and he just shook his head. "Whatever. Key stimuli is just something that can trigger specific sensory information in an animal's brain. So certain shapes, colors, sounds, even gestures and behaviors can trigger an animal to act in a certain manner." You sucked your teeth, jotting down his words before speaking. "Do you know what happened to Sangyeon?" He almost snaps his neck looking up at you, brows furrowed as he shakes his head. "No? Why does that even matter, aren't we supposed to be studying?" You raise a brow at him, "Why are you so defensive, dude? I'm just asking you if you know what happened. He and Luda have been avoiding me like I have lice." "Get a monkey." He shrugs, looking back down at his phone. He's scrolling mindlessly, and you huff as you put down your pen. "Alright. What's the problem, Soonyoung?" He winces slightly, before shaking his head. "Don't know what you mean. Do you understand now? Or do you still need to understand the difference between key stimuli and releasers? People have been asking all week about that." You frown, feeling your throat a bit tight as you sit up. "Why are you acting like this?" You murmur, and he must hear something in your voice that makes him look up. "Acting like what?" "Like you can't stand to be in the same room as me." "That's not true." He rolls his eyes, and you scoff. "It sure seems like it. I ask you a question about class, you're rude. I mention Sangyeon and Luda, you're annoyed and irritated. Did I do something? Are you upset with me?" It seems your prodding has been more of you poking the bear, because he sucks his teeth and slides his phone onto the table. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am upset with you. And you did do something." "Okay? So tell me what it is so we can fix it." You state, and he laughs dryly. "We? There is no we in you and Sangyeon making out like a pair of lovesick idiots at the stoplight party. He was practically eye fucking you the entire time you were together."
"I don't see what the hell that has to do with you, Soonyoung." You retort, and he shakes his head. "I just don't understand why you'd make me feel like there was something between us and then go and make out with some other guy. He likes Luda, you know, so it's not like it would have gone anywhere." His tone is bitter, and you can recognize he's saying all of this to hurt your feelings. Maybe because he's hurt, and he feels disappointed in his own choices. Nonetheless, it gets under your skin and hits just the right bullseye for you to explode.
"Where the fuck do you get off telling me what I can and can't do with my life, Soonyoung? You and I both agreed that this wasn't mutually exclusive, and Sangyeon and I just made out! You and I haven’t even fucked since we stopped last year, so I don't understand why your panties are in a twist!" You exclaim, and he scoffs out a breath of disbelief.
"You know what, maybe this entire thing was a fucking mistake. I should've never asked for there to even be an 'us', because if I knew I was going to feel this way knowing that you can just do whatever or whoever you want–" You cut him off before he can finish. "Is that what you think I'm doing? I've literally rejected so many people in just the past year because you were acting like you couldn't live without me! So what if I kissed Sangyeon? So what if I did? Forgive me for thinking that maybe you changed your mind about me and how you felt about me after you slept with Luda! You're not the only one who felt led on, you know?!" Your breathing is heavy as you finish yelling, with Soonyoung blinking at you, ears red. "You know about that?" His voice is almost ashamed. Almost.
"If you didn't want to make this an exclusive thing, or make the people around us think we were together, you should've stopped pulling me into random bedrooms to fuck and kissing me in the kitchen of the frat. Maybe don't buy me a Jellycat Octopus and say you want to be exclusive with me if you're just going to pull this sort of shit." You feel tears sting your eyes as you rip your bag off the chair in front of you, feeling your throat tighten as you grab your remaining things off the table. "Y/N-" "You know, it may be taking you five years to finish your degree, but I want to finish mine on time. Have a good life, Soonyoung. Don't call me." You spit, watching his jaw drop slightly before tightening. "I won't." "Good." "Great." "Fine." 
He watches as you slam the door behind you, feeling his stomach sink damn near into the ground as he sees the sweater you were wearing still hanging across the back of your chair. "Fine."
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February 14th.
It'd been a week since your fight with Soonyoung.
He'd unfollowed you on Instagram, and seemingly decided to pretend as though you didn't exist. He didn't acknowledge you if you were over at the frat for Minghao, and he certainly didn't speak to you. You'd asked him to pass you the salt when you'd gone over yesterday for a Valentine's dinner party with the brothers, and he just left the table without a word. It was embarrassing enough that you asked Minghao to walk you home. 
What you didn't know was that the fellow girlfriends of his frat brothers spoke to him about his behavior. Sana and Jisun called Sowon over FaceTime and even had Seungcheol talk to him, and he stood there and took the scolding like a puppy with his tail between his legs. Seungcheol told him that his behavior towards you wasn't going to get you to forgive him, much less be with him and that he understood that Soonyoung felt negatively about your actions – but that Soonyoung cannot be upset about it because he had his chance and he blew it by making out with Yujin at the Halloween party.
Talk about key stimuli. Bad behavior does not get rewarded.
He'd been left with his own thoughts after that, and he stared at all the little trinkets he had that reminded him of you. The sweater you left in the library was hung over his desk chair, and it still smelled of your citrusy perfume. The piggy bank you got him for his birthday was sitting on his bookshelf, still stuffed full with new bills you put in before giving it to him. You'd also given him a few items of clothing that reminded you of him, one of which being an oversized black sweater with your initials embroidered in the sleeve. He frequently wore it unless he was sure he'd be seeing you.
He didn't know why. It just felt nice to…feel like he belonged to you.
"Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!" He's standing in front of the class, and the sophomore girls in the front of the room coo at his cheerfulness. You're sitting behind them, a sour expression on your face as he dims the lights, a baggy navy cardigan draped over your shoulders. You didn't like that one as much as the one you'd left in the library.
"In honor of this pseudo holiday, we're going to go over the most romantic of animals. Consider this a free class, because this is definitely not on the syllabus or in the curriculum, I just like to talk about it." He smiles, and the group of girls aww again, and you make a face as he turns the projector to the next slide.
"Naturally, you have the ones you've heard of the most. Penguins, seahorses, swans, and doves. Shit, even elephants are said to mate for life, and become extremely depressed if their lover suddenly passes or, in some cases, just up and leaves. But my favorite?"
He changes the slide, seeing your eyes widen as your favorite fish fills the screen.
"The French Angelfish mate for life. Monogamy isn't usually practiced amongst observed populations of fish, though. So much so that there is an analogy called the Fish Love Analogy. This is when your partner can meet all your needs, both emotional and physical, but ultimately only turns into an object of desire." You frown at this, but he changes the slide.
"French Angelfish are rarely seen alone, as once they've mated, they're inseparable. It's really quite beautiful and it proves that animals are sentient beings." He smiles slightly, looking around to see everyone jotting down notes.
"What about you, Soonyoung? Do you believe in that stuff?" One of the sophomore girls speaks up, and he shrugs. "I do, yes. I think it's a beautiful thing, to fall in love and have that person forever. I think as humans, though, we forget to cherish what we have. That's why the rate of divorce is so high." You roll your eyes.
"Do you think you've found your forever, Soonyoung?" Another one of the girls asks, and he sighs. "You know, I have. I have found her, but I'm also a human that doesn't know how to cherish good parts of life. Animals are just wired to operate in a certain way, but giving humans free will has truly affected us as a society." He scoffs, earning a laugh from the class.
You're not smiling, but he sees your lips twitch slightly.
"What if she's not your Angelfish, though?" Someone from behind you speaks up, and he purses his lips. His eyes find yours, and he can practically feel them pierce through him.
"I doubt that she's not."
He turns back to the slides, proceeding to talk about how humans have romanticized doves and swans to be representative of love. He finishes the slides quickly, bidding everyone a happy Valentine's day once more and earning echoes of the girls telling him they hope he and his Angelfish figure it out. He thanked them, hitching his backpack over his shoulder as he held the door open for them.
He looks over them, spotting you still gathering your materials. You glance up at him, a silent communication of please wait for me from your eyes. He does, he waits as you walk down the steps and tug your cardigan around you tightly. He remembers when you bought it, he was with you and you were actually wearing the same dress you have on now, the long skirt now paired with platform boots so it doesn't drag on the floor. You slip out in front of him, and wait a few feet away as he locks the door. You stare at the floor as he falls into pace next to you, albeit a few feet behind. You're leading the way to somewhere, he notes, because you're not headed towards the frat or your place. He follows silently, never closing the gap between you as you turn into the veterinary hallway.
The graduating class last year had raised enough money to install an aquarium for viewing pleasure. It had all sorts of fish – including angelfish. You stopped in front of it, with him lingering a few feet behind and watching from afar. You point silently, the fish swimming past your hand and joining another.
"Which one are you?" You mumble, and he steps closer to you, but not enough to touch you. "Probably the male one." You snort, backing up slightly, your knuckles brushing as you clasp your hands behind your back.
"I'm sorry." You whisper, and he shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry." "Let's just agree we're both sorry." You shrug, and he sighs. "You shouldn't have to be sorry, though. I've always come off so strong, and I'm sorry if you felt like I was projecting my feelings onto you. You don't ever have to reciprocate if you don't want to." "Do you want me to?" You ask gently, watching the fish swim in circles. He hesitates, before nodding. "I don't think there is anything I want more." He murmurs, and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.
"Careful, I won't get you a gift for your birthday this year." You joke, but you see him sink slightly, before he's kneeling on the floor. "Soonyoung?" "I'm sorry I've been such an asshole, I know I don't deserve to be with you in any form." He hugs your knees, and you feel your cheeks flame as someone walks by you. "Soonyoung, get up." "Not until you forgive me." He squeezes your legs tighter, and a couple of girls walk by, gaping at the sight. "I forgive you! Just get up!" You grit, tugging his arm up and hurrying away from the hallway. 
His eyes are teary as you pull him into a janitor's closet, making you scoff out a laugh as you wipe his eyes. "Oh, don't cry. I don't like seeing you cry." You say gently, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. His lips jut out in a pout as his hands come up to your wrists.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, and you roll your eyes. "Really?"
“Is that a no?” “I should make you grovel, honestly.” “I’m not above begging, you should know this.” “Just kiss me, you idiot.”
He does.
He does, and it's the warmest you'd felt in a long time. His lips are just as chapped as the last time he'd kissed you, his fingers just as soft as they held your face gently. You feel him press himself against you as his tongue slowly licks into your mouth. You play along, your fingers curling into his hair and tugging softly. He whines against your lips, making you smirk as you pull him away.
"Still wanna get on your knees?" You murmur, and he nods quickly as he sinks to his knees in front of you, and you clear your throat as he pulls your leg over his shoulder, pushing your skirt up to your hips. His breath is warm against your skin as he gasps, peering up at you from behind the bunched fabric. "You're not–" "You're about to yap yourself out of some ass, shut up." You roll your eyes, making him frown as his eyes disappear under your skirt, feeling his teeth nip at your thigh. You flinch, no longer used to his biting habits. "Be gentle." "Yeah, yeah. I don't tell you how to kiss other guys, don't tell me how to eat your pussy." He grumbles, and you go to argue before you feel his tongue circle your clit slowly. You sigh, feeling his free hand snake up to lace his fingers with yours. You hold his fingers tightly as he buries his face into your cunt, eagerly soaking up whatever you'll give him.
You cover your mouth with your free hand, feeling a bit of anxiety pool in your stomach as you hear students walk past the closet. He pulls you even closer, slurping obscenely when you hear someone stop in front of the door, murmured whispers and soft kissing sounds when the doorknob jiggles. You see Soonyoung's hand shoot to grab it, attempting to hold the door tightly shut as they pull.
He doesn't pull away when they yank the door open, leaving you to nearly topple as you yank your skirt down, hiding him beneath it. You're faced with Lee Chan and his girlfriend,Jung Haerim, lipstick smeared all over his face and neck as your own burns in embarrassment. His jaw drops, and you find yourself squirming away from Soonyoung's tongue as you shove him away. 
Soonyoung pouts as he exits your skirt, a deep frown on his glistening lips as he looks at Chan. "Really, man?" "You're the one stealing my closet! You know this is my spot!" Chan argues as Soonyoung stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, your orgasm ruined and humiliation levels on 10. "You know, getting fucked in a mop closet shouldn't be something you're proud of." Soonyoung scoffs as he grabs your hand once more, tugging you out as Chan and Haerim blink at the two of you. She opens her mouth, holding up her finger before closing it, pressing her lips together. "Can't we just go to my place?"
"Should've thought of that earlier!" Soonyoung yells over his shoulder, picking up his pace as he hears Chan start after the two of you. You feel the awkward tension start to dissipate as you both bolt down the hallway, and you feel him take a sharp turn towards the fraternity. You hear Chan start yelling curse words before his footsteps stop, and the two of you just giggle to yourselves as you keep running towards the house.
Seeing the house come into view, the two of you quickly make your way up the steps and nearly slam into Seungcheol, who had come to visit (without anyone's knowledge.) He barely moves out of the way as you and Soonyoung barrel up the stairs, not even acknowledging a rather stoned Vernon and Jisun on the second floor landing before sliding into his room. It seemed both of you were on the same page about finishing what was started.
The room is full of clattering as you both undress, and your books are thrown to the side as his hands pull you to him before you both topple onto his bed. His lips are instantly on yours, but it's too chaste – and you hear him murmur something before he presses his lips to yours again.
"I love you." You scoff out a laugh, before you see the seriousness in his eyes. Blinking, you sit up a bit, your fingers trembling as you gently stroke his cheek. He nibbles his lip, and you can feel another laugh bubble in your throat. His ears tinge pink as you laugh, pulling him back down to your level, nuzzling your nose against his softly.
"I love you, too."
His eyes widen, and you swear he stops breathing before you tap him gently. "Hosh? You there?" He blinks, his hand tightens reflexively around your hip. "Yeah…I'm here."
You smile at him, tilting your head as you run your fingers through his hair. "You mean it, right? Do you love me?" "Let me be struck by Zeus himself if I'm lying."
The two of you laugh after a moment, and he swallows carefully. Neither of you make a move to get down to business, instead staring at each other like this was the last time you'd ever see each other. "You okay?" You murmur, and he shakes his head. "You love me." "You know, I figured it would be pretty obvious that I'd liked you well before we ever slept together." You say pointedly. "I'm still not forgiving you, though. You'll have to work for that." He quirks his brow at you, before pushing off you and flopping onto his back. You look at him, and he clears his throat. "M'lady, your throne awaits." "You're an idiot." "Your idiot, now come on. I've got to prove myself to you."
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May 9th.
"Y/L/N Y/N." 
Cheers are heard around the auditorium as your name is called, but not even your parents are as loud as your boyfriend amongst your graduating class. "THAT'S MY BABY!"
You feel your cheeks heat as everyone aw's and ooh's, hearing his fraternity brothers blow kazoos like idiots in the stands. The ceremony quickly came to an end as the last few names were called, the security attempting to diffuse crowds of people exiting. You found yourself looking for your boyfriend, finding him being embraced by Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua as his eyes searched for you.
Your relationship with Soonyoung was not perfect by any means. You nearly failed Zoology because he kept interrupting your studying to kiss you, often leading to other things before you would crawl out of his bed to your laptop on the desk, before being lured back in by your siren of a boyfriend. The two of you kept it under wraps best as you could, seeing if Professor Kwon found out (or anyone else, really) you could both get in trouble.
But, everyone seemed to finally be satisfied with the outcome. You and Soonyoung were set to go to grad school together, and everyone congratulated the two of you as you made your relationship official – posting each other freely on social media almost everyday. Coffee dates photographed on your story turned into study (and sex) sessions, his Instagram story was full of you in cute workout sets as you finally let him drag you to his Tuesday dance class. Your dashboard was full of him posting you as much as he could, captions of "my girlfriend!!!" and "me n u…get it? menu…#lovestagram" under a photo of the two of you at a diner.
Your sorority and his fraternity came together to host a graduation party for all the graduates, and you and Soonyoung were going to arrive together. You stare at him from your position near the doors, waiting for him to spot you. You'd both worn a soft pink under your white gowns, and his eyes scan the entire area before finally landing on you. He fights his way out of his friends' arms, and you hear him exclaim to them that he needs to find his girlfriend.
As he approaches you, you think of the tangled web that had been your relationship. A bit of jealousy wrapped in emotional unavailability and insecurities from the both of you, like a cricket held down by a spider's thread. You think about the chase, the game of cat and mouse that the two of you played as you kissed eagerly, a mess of tongues and spit before he'd have to slip away. You think about the first time he smoked you out, and how he'd laughed and held you tightly when you told him you felt like you were about to fall off the Earth.
You think about his growth as a person, about his growth as a man and his growth as your person. The person you found yourself drawn to since you'd stepped foot in Beta Tau Omega four years ago. The same person who bought you a new laptop and then took you out to dinner, the same person who immediately glued himself to you once he found out how much you had in common.
The same person who left when he felt like everything was too much by your side, only to admit his wrongs a year later and beg for your forgiveness on a roof in the middle of autumn. The same person who then slowly lured you into his sticky and tangled web of emotions and unspoken confessions, of kisses full of I love you and embraces screaming I missed you. The same person who said you're his angelfish, his person, his forever. The same person who realizes his mistakes and pushes his pride aside to apologize, even if it means the two of you end up a mess of spit and cum and tears. The same person who tells you now, every night, that he loves you and has done everything he can to prove it day by day.
"Hey, kitty." His smile is warm and full of mischief as his hand gently brushes your hair away from your face, revealing the earrings he gave you a few weeks ago. He thumbs at them softly, before pulling you in closely for a chaste kiss. You smile at him, knowing that this tangled mess is only the beginning of your forever with him. "Let's get out of here."
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hai7ani · 3 months ago
Text
我的心肝宝贝 / i have found you / haitani rindou
sequel
losing your memories after a terrible car crash that's left you confused, quiet, and a little clumsy afterwards. all confidence had left your soul just like the past 2 years of your life, and honestly, you didn't think you'd be able to get through not knowing anything. things had changed a lot from when your memories had last stopped at.
you still manage to pick yourself up, however, even though it'd took you quite some time to gain back the confidence to go out in public with the blank and empty feeling in your head, your heart. you still don't remember much from the memories you've lost, and you find yourself constantly searching for something that you don't know.
and now you're in Don Quijote a little after 9 to run some errands for your mother who insists you go alone this time. before you left she had claimed that this may be helpful for you. she'd pointed out that this used to be your favourite place to visit at night when you had nothing to do. at first you didn't understand what she meant by it 一 you couldn't figure out why a place like Don Quijote would be somewhere you like spending time in, considering the loud, overwhelming music constantly playing through the speakers and the crowds of people who were somehow always everywhere in all corners of the store.
until you're queuing up for checkout and you hear a deep voice call for your nickname that you haven't heard in a while. you don't recognise the voice, though, and you think to yourself that this might be someone you had known just before you had lost your memories.
so you turn around, already getting ready to say the words you find yourself repeating quite a lot recently.
"i don't remember you."
the man before you is tall. he towers over you, he's a little tanned, and he's also the same guy you'd made eye contact with a while ago when you were browsing for ramen. you remember he had been staring 一 he seemed very mysterious, but you didn't think of him as creepy nor did he give off any human-trafficker vibes, and he never once broke eye contact too when you were passing him at the aisle.
"hi," you start with a little smile, and he thinks your eyes are bright with so much sun despite it being nighttime and you don't seem to be bringing anything up. he looks at you with an expression you think strangers don't normally give to another stranger, so you figure he must be someone you had known closely before.
"i, um," you blink once, twice 一 suddenly feeling a little out of breath and warm 一 and your chain of thought gets interrupted when he takes a step closer to your body. you can smell the hints of tobacco off his clothing and you resist the urge to pick away a loose thread from the collar of his black coat. the sudden temptation to do that was shocking to you, as you'd never felt anything like this before to anybody you've met recently.
then he lowers down a little to grab the handle of your basket and swiftly places it on the conveyor belt when you don't notice the cashier calling out for you (your back had been turned).
"thank you." you say as you start pulling out your wallet, getting ready to pay.
you turn to look up at the man again while waiting. you had bought quite an amount of items today, so this would give you time to converse with him.
"i'm sorry, have we known each other before?" you begin. you notice from his body movement that he is a little stunned when you'd asked him that, because he had taken a step back and frowned. he seems a bit confused as he curls his fingers inwards and forms his big hands into fists. the Don Quijote song plays softly in the background as you stare at each other like that 一 as he swallows the pit in his mouth, as you dig for just anything at all, right at the core of your brain.
nothing.
you decide to explain further when he doesn't budge. "i'd just lost my memories recently, from a car accident. i don't remember anything from the past 2 years..." you bite your lip, trailing off.
"so if we had known each other during those times, i'm really sorry, but i don't recognise you at all." your shoulders slump as you say it to him.
during those times.
you feel a little something, probably in your heart, rip apart inside of you when you see the light in his eyes swiftly disappear. you think the purple of his orbs had just turned into a darker shade. from violet to eggplant, his frown disappears, and he opens his mouth to speak-
"cash or card?"
you hurriedly look away from him and he sighs. out of relief, out of disappointment, or out of sadness?
"oh, cash-"
out of nothing but love.
"...we're paying together." he slams his own basket on the conveyor and eyes the cashier in a way that would've made you squirm out of fear because he looks so intimidating. "make it quick." he's stern when he says it, and the poor cashier looks so afraid that she does make absolute quick work of scanning his items together and checking you both out. but surprisingly to you, you don't sense any malice in his voice. you know he didn't mean anything bad by it -- he'd just really wanted it to be quick.
he's a nice guy, just a bit rough. he doesn't know how exactly to be polite. he has good intentions. he speaks up a lot, but he doesn't voice out very often.
you know. you want to tell her that. but he covers your sight by stepping in front of you and hands the lady his card.
(you end up sliding the cashier a piece of sticker you'd randomly found in your purse while mouthing a quick "sorry!" to her on your way out of the store.)
ane now you're standing outside the store, under a dim lamp post and you're searching for something inside your bag of groceries.
and he watches as you fish out a bag of chips, rip an opening easily, and hand it to him with a big smile. "here! my treat for paying for my groceries."
oddly to you this entire interaction feels so normal. usually a stranger would've never let another stranger pay for their things this easily, but with this man, it feels fine. it seemed okay to let him do that. you feel like this has happened before.
"why this snack?" is what he asks when he grabs a chip from the bag and shoves it in his mouth. he chews and chews and grabs another and chews, and your smile grows even wider when he finally takes the entire packet away and starts eating it like it belongs to him.
"dunno. i thought you'd enjoy it." you shrug, "and you do seem to actually enjoy it. i'm glad. i didn't buy it for any reason exactly, just felt right for me to grab it off the shelf."
he cracks a smile at that.
"you really don't remember me?"
"no, gosh, i'm sorry. what's your name?"
he eyes the small purple keychain of a specific initial hanging off your handbag. you hadn't switched it out even after so long, he realises.
...perhaps you did feel the same for him after all.
regret.
longing.
maybe still some love.
"Rindou. i am Rindou."
you give him a smile. he feels young all over again because you're looking at him the same way you always did.
"hello Rindou, i am y/n." you giggle as you say it, knowing he already knows, but you still want to say it anyway.
"were we friends? where did we meet?"
he sucks the flavouring off his thumb. it starts snowing a little. Don Quijote is no longer lit up and noisy as they start closing up the store.
"here." he looks down to the packaging in his hands and folds it nicely before throwing it in the trash. you tilt your head to the side, obviously extremely confused and a little nervous.
"we met here, two winters ago. i was lost as i was new to tokyo, and you bought me this snack as a cheer up before walking with me to my hotel."
"...and?" you grin, patiently awaiting for the rest of his response. it felt good to know you were nice to him back then 一 that this place was also coincidentally where you'd first met him with him eating the same snack that you bought for him.
a light layer of snow starts covering your head and shoulders, but he is warm when he moves closer to you and pats them away gently.
he then slides his hand down to rest it on the back of your head.
and he kisses your forehead.
you think you want to melt away like the snow on the ground. you think the empty feeling inside of you has been filled and you don't ever want him to leave again.
you think you have found what you have been searching for so feverishly after losing your memories.
"i loved you before."
you don't move in his arms when he snakes them around your figure 一 as he pushes you anymore closer to himself, into his chest.
you hear his heart beat for you before your ears.
"i still do."
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in chinese we have this term of endearment: 心肝宝贝 (xin gan bao bei) which is a very cheesy endearment for a loved one, commonly used by parents for their child, but it can be used between lovers as well.
心 xin (heart) | 肝 gan (liver) | 宝贝 bao bei (baby/sweetie for endearment, commonly used between lovers) = basically saying that you are just as important as my heart and liver
i was picturing rin saying this to her in his heart when he was hugging and pushing her to his chest :(((
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elizabebabe · 3 months ago
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𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐲𝐨����𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ꕤ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨
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𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡: yoga teacher y/n’s student has her thinking unprofessional thoughts.
minors dni!
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| “you got so wet so quickly…been a while since someone touched you baby?”
| “damn — spread open for me, on your mat?”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: use of y/n, pet name, smut with little plot, fingering, f!masturbation, fantasies, horny!y/n, lowk lonely!y/n.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k!
𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬: kicking off the remodel with a one-shot !! zabe loves yoga, zabe loves chris, mix em together?
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“today we’ll be doing a few more advanced stretches, stretching out your backs, calves and any other tight muscles.” your voice echoed through the studio, your students crisscrossed on their mats awaiting instruction.
you had early morning classes every day of the week but wednesday was particularly your favorite since you got to see a certain student, his name was chris and yes he was handsome but he also cared about your profession or…maybe less about your profession and more about yoga itself.
he wanted you to help him fix his bad back, asking questions, asking for advice, you needed to be professional which is why all your attempts of asking for his number ended in failure.
you turned on your speakers, the usual calm, lyricless music waving through the room, also not forgetting to turn off the lights to give a more relaxed feel you always wanted to share with your students.
“we’re gonna start how we always start, savasana.” you scrambled around the room, stepping between bodies laying atop their personal mats ensuring everyone knew what they were doing.
you took 3-4 minutes to correct anyone making mistakes and marking who could use a bit of help, some days of the week you had kids joining in with their guardian, on wednesdays you have a pretty mixed group of ages so it can be hard to “grade”.
“alright, that’s savasana.” 
“come up to ‘mountain’ pose.” you continue, stepping on your mat to follow along to your own instructions, trying to ignore your eyes telling you to gaze at the brunette man in the front row.
⋆˚。⋆୨୧˚
after an hour of tough stretches, your class huffed and puffed on their way out but one man stayed behind.
“hey.” he nudged at your turned back.
“oh! hi.” the interaction taking you by surprise as you never really interacted, “what can i do for you.” you smiled awkwardly.
“well, with the ‘cobra’ pose.” he hiked his yoga mats strap over his shoulder, “i’m struggling with getting my back that low, it kinda hurts.” he says with a cute, loose smile maybe embarrassed by what he’s saying.
“oh no! if it hurts, find a way to make it more comfortable for you.” you gestured with your hands.
“it shouldn’t hurt, maybe uncomfortable but it shouldn’t hurt—“ the rambling of yours continued.
he snickered which interrupted your words, “thanks.” he gently patted your shoulder before turning towards and out the glass door.
the embarrassment he felt now flipped on you as you wanted to crawl into a hole from the exchange.
⋆˚。⋆୨୧˚
your drive home was silent as you sat overthinking about what played on your mind, ‘he just wanted advice, he doesn’t like you.’
‘why did he touch you then?’
‘it was a pat on the damn shoulder, did you see how fast he got out of there?’
you felt crazy as voices in your head fought over something so small, your key turned into the knob of your apartment door, remembering the exam you promised yourself to study for.
you were in community college, typically only having one class a day left lots of time to work on your yoga studio your parents helped pay for.
you threw your tote and mat to the ground, ignoring the thought to change into some of your loose pajamas and sitting at your small dining table for one.
the first few minutes of studying were fine, even taking off your fitted white jacket as you got in the zone. you were able to focus and concentrate on the work ahead of you but that didn’t stop the little voice in your head nagging about him.
you knew his name was chris or at least that’s what he filled out on the forms you had tucked in a random cabinet—
‘this is crazy.’ you huffed before averting your attention back to your notebook.
you scrolled through your phone immediately contradicting yourself by looking for different chris’s throughout social media — ‘doesn't he follow the studio's instagram?’
you scrolled through the following list before finding him, his handsome face adorning his profile picture and only a few photos on his feed, but you loved every second of scrolling through them..
adjusting yourself in your chair every so often at the sight of his beautifully crafted face, you couldn't help your fingers sliding past the waistband of your tight leggings that matched that thrown fitted jacket and quickly underneath your light blue panties that you could only hope chris would see one day.
your fingers quickly found your wet folds slipping through the slick and imagining it was the man from your front row, “you got so wet so quickly…been a while since someone touched you baby?” his voice echoed through your head.
the guilt you felt from thinking about him almost warranted you to stop but when your finger accidentally grazed over your clit you couldn’t stop yourself.
the actions continued, one of your fingers dipping into your soppy hole, another leaving airy touches on your clit.
it wasn’t enough, even with his face and his veiny hands you remember pressing firmly into the mat beneath him you couldn’t hit the right spots you knew those long fingers of his could.
but it didn’t stop you from trying, you pushed deeper into yourself once you slid down the wooden chair you uncomfortably sat in the position of your hips reminding you of when you instructed him through a certain pose even showing him a private demonstration, your fingers curling and grazing that spongy spot you aimed for, you remember that day, silently begging him to make a move, touch you in a any way but he never did.
trying to focus on your fantasy as you pumped into yourself made you wetter, “damn — spread open for me, on your mat?” you imagined him laying you down, taking his time while he undressed you, your drippy hole dripping onto the mat beneath you both.
“you’re gonna have to clean this later.” he says, scissoring his fingers inside you, eliciting a moan from your throat.
“gonna think about me when you do it?” 
“how wet i get you?” he continued.
“chris..” you grunted as your body buzzed and legs shook, you were close and all because you “stumbled” upon his instagram, your fingers picked up speed, vigorous motion ensued on your sensitive bud.
the rope snapping in your stomach halting your movements, your mouth agape and sweat dotting your skin.
a certain ’ding’ brought your attention back to your phone.
an instagram dm, a unexpected “can we talk?” from the man you finished all over your fingers for.
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second smut baby !! and it’s about my man..
i hate this :( that’s why it took me so long to post bc i was debating whether it was too lackluster but i wanted to post something while i work on longer things, again thank you for the support on ‘southern belle’ and i love you. 🕰️
🏷️ @fratbrochrisgf @3lizaluvs @lily-strnlo @i-love-ptv @venusjaynie @jetaimevous @lizzysmith110 @firexovni @bagsbyclair0
i hope you’re satisfied with your purchase!
© elizabebabe
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momotonescreaming · 9 months ago
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STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night
“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker. 
“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.” 
A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker. 
“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted. 
He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend. 
Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest. 
“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.” 
“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light. 
“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up. 
Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar. 
“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.” 
“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.” 
“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.” 
“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.” 
“Not hard,” Jeff laughs. 
“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”
By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. 
“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer. 
“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”
“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him. 
[Part Two]
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paddockletters · 2 months ago
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unseen | jude bellingham
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pairing: jude bellingham x reader  request: yes / Reader who was bullied when young and then jude and her go to her hometown and everyone feels out cause that freaking jude bellingham and they get like, impressed by reader success as an f1 engineer and that she bagged jude? Sorry its way too specific author’s note: Hope you liked it!... as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀
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The memories of my school days never really left me. Every now and then, they’d come creeping back — a careless comment someone made, or the way people used to whisper when I walked past. I could still picture the sneers, the cold stares, and the cutting remarks. The bullying wasn’t always physical, but the emotional scars felt just as deep. Being the quiet girl who loved math, cars, and physics made me an easy target. I didn’t fit in with the other girls who were into makeup and parties. I was more interested in tweaking engines and dreaming of Formula 1. That difference marked me.
It all began in middle school when I started to realize just how out of place I was. My grades were high, my social skills not so much. Every time I raised my hand in class, there’d be snickers. Every time I’d walk down the hall with my oversized glasses, someone would mutter a snide remark. The bullying wasn’t brutal, but it was consistent, gnawing at me bit by bit. High school wasn’t much better. The teasing continued, though by then, I had learned to keep my head down and drown out the noise by focusing on my dream of working in Formula 1.
Fast forward a few years, and here I am — an engineer for one of the top F1 teams. The transformation was surreal. Sometimes, I still have to pinch myself. Who would’ve thought that the same girl who spent her lunch breaks in the library, sketching out car designs, would one day be standing in the pit lane at Monaco?
But something even crazier happened along the way — I met Jude Bellingham.
It wasn’t some grand, love-at-first-sight story. I wasn’t starstruck when I first saw him. In fact, I didn’t even know who he was. We met at a charity event, one aimed at inspiring young athletes and professionals from underprivileged backgrounds to chase their dreams. Jude was there as the football star, while I had been invited to speak about my journey into F1. He seemed genuinely interested during my talk, but we didn’t interact much that day. It wasn’t until I received a DM on Instagram a few days later that things really started.
“Hey, I loved your speech at the event. I’m Jude, by the way — football player. Would love to grab coffee sometime if you’re up for it.”
I remember staring at my phone, thinking it was a prank. A football star wanted to get coffee with me? It felt like a joke. But I responded, and we met. Coffee turned into long dinners, long dinners turned into walks in the park, and those walks turned into a relationship.
Jude wasn’t what I expected. Sure, he was famous, but he was also kind, funny, and remarkably down-to-earth. He never treated me like I was less important than him. If anything, he seemed fascinated by my work. He’d ask me endless questions about the F1 cars, the strategies, the engineering behind the speed. I’d tease him about football, asking if he really knew what went into designing the perfect car. We just clicked.
Still, going back to my hometown was something I hadn’t done in years. The memories were too bitter. But Jude wanted to go. He wanted to see where I grew up, to meet the people who had shaped me, for better or worse. So we planned a trip. I was nervous as hell, but Jude? He was excited.
The car ride to my hometown felt like an eternity. As Jude hummed along to the soft rhythm of the music playing through the speakers, my mind was far from the road. I hadn’t been back here in years, not since I’d left for university. The thought of returning had always been… daunting. I wasn’t ready to face the ghosts of the past. Or, more specifically, the people who had made my life a living hell when I was younger.
I glanced at Jude, who was focused on the road, one hand casually resting on the wheel, the other on my leg, giving me an occasional reassuring squeeze. His presence grounded me, but that nervous pit in my stomach kept growing the closer we got.
“You’re quiet,” he said, glancing at me.
I forced a smile. “Just... thinking.”
Jude raised an eyebrow, his tone soft as he asked, “About?”
“About how weird this is going to be. I haven’t been back here in years, Jude. People… they remember things. They remember who I was.”
“And who you were is exactly who I love. You know that, right?” he said, giving my thigh another squeeze.
I chuckled softly, leaning back into the seat, trying to push the anxiety down.
“I know. It’s just that, back then, I was the awkward girl who couldn’t fit in. Now I’m walking into town holding hands with Jude Bellingham. People are going to freak out.”
“They’ll freak out because you’re a freaking Formula 1 engineer, not because of me,” he said, grinning. “I bet half the people in town have posters of you in their garage next to their Ferrari die-casts or something.”
“Oh please,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “No one from my town cares about F1.”
“They should. You’re a genius.”
Jude’s words were always so simple, but they held so much weight. He had a way of making me feel seen, really seen, in a way no one else ever had. That’s what made everything with him feel so different. He wasn’t just the football star that millions of people idolized; he was my Jude, the one who asked me about race strategies and remembered the names of the engineers on my team.
We arrived at the town square just as the afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the small, familiar streets. The sight of it brought back a wave of memories — good and bad. It was strange how everything looked smaller now, less intimidating. The buildings I used to walk past with my head down, trying not to be noticed, now seemed so ordinary.
Jude parked the car, pulling his baseball cap down over his head as we stepped out. I could already see a few people glancing in our direction, their eyes widening with recognition. They weren’t just looking at him, though. They were looking at me.
“Hey, you okay?” Jude asked, stepping closer to me, his arm wrapping around my waist.
I nodded, even though I wasn’t entirely sure. “Yeah, it’s just… surreal.”
We started walking through the town square, hand in hand. I tried to ignore the stares, the whispers. But they were everywhere.
“Oh my god, is that… Jude Bellingham?”
“Wait, isn’t that the girl who used to go to school here? She’s, like, a big deal now, right?”
“I heard she works in Formula 1. How did she end up with him?”
I bit my lip, feeling the familiar wave of insecurity creeping in. But Jude seemed unfazed. If anything, he walked a little taller, as if daring anyone to say something negative. He pulled me in closer, planting a kiss on my temple as we crossed the square.
As we walked into the shopping center, we decided to stop by a café for a drink. I could already feel the buzz of recognition in the air as people realized who Jude was.
Jude sat across from me, casually sipping his drink as if we were anywhere else in the world. He had his cap pulled low over his face, trying to avoid drawing attention, but it was hard not to notice him. He was Jude Bellingham after all.
The stares had started the moment we walked into the square, but he didn’t seem to mind. He had this effortless calm about him, the way he handled attention, fame. Meanwhile, I was doing my best not to feel like I was under a spotlight, even though I knew people were whispering and pointing, probably trying to figure out why he was with me.
I caught a glance from a group of teenagers at the table across from us. They were huddled together, looking our way, giggling and whispering. I sighed, already feeling a bit on edge.
Jude noticed. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.
I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, just... weird being back here.”
“I can imagine,” he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. His thumb brushed over my knuckles in that soothing way he always did. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
I took a deep breath, glancing around the café. “It’s fine. Just... a lot of memories, you know?”
He squeezed my hand, his gaze soft and understanding. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” I said, surprising myself. I had never really told him the full story before.
He knew bits and pieces, but I had kept most of it to myself. Maybe it was time to let him in.
I looked down at our intertwined hands, thinking back to those years.
“I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid,” I started, my voice quieter than I intended.
“I was the one they picked on. The ‘geeky’ one. I loved math, engineering, all the stuff no one else thought was cool. I spent more time in the library than anywhere else. They made fun of me for it—my glasses, my clothes, the fact that I never fit in.”
Jude’s expression softened. “Kids can be cruel.”
“They were,” I agreed, a bitter laugh escaping me. “It wasn’t just teasing though. It got pretty bad at times. I used to dread coming to school. Every day felt like walking into a battlefield. I just wanted to disappear, you know?”
Jude’s grip on my hand tightened slightly. “I hate that you went through that.”
I shrugged, trying to play it off like it didn’t matter anymore.
“It’s in the past. I got out. I became an F1 engineer, so jokes on them, I guess.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t have to act like it doesn’t still hurt. It’s okay to feel that.”
I looked up at him, my throat tightening with the emotion I hadn’t realized was building up.
“It does, sometimes. I mean, I know I’ve made it, but coming back here... it just brings all that stuff up again.”
He stood up then, coming around the table to sit beside me. Without a word, he pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me protectively.
“You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he whispered into my hair. “You’re brilliant, and you’ve worked so hard to get where you are. They didn’t see that back then, but it doesn’t matter. I see it. The world sees it now.”
I leaned into him, letting his warmth and words wrap around me like a blanket.
We stayed like that for a few moments before pulling apart slightly, Jude resting his forehead against mine.
“You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone here,” he said softly. “You’re you, and that’s more than enough.”
I smiled, squeezing his hand. “Thank you. For always knowing what to say.”
Jude grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Well, you did bag me, so I’d say you’re doing something right.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“It’s part of my charm,” he teased, flashing that trademark grin.
As we sat there, talking about everything and nothing, a few more people came up to us. A couple of them recognized me from school. I could see the surprise in their eyes, like they couldn’t believe the girl they used to tease was sitting here with a world-famous footballer.
“Hey, I remember you,” a girl of the group said, her voice laced with nostalgia. “You were in my physics class, right?”
I nodded, offering a polite smile. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“Wow,” she said, glancing between me and Jude. “I heard you’re doing big things now. Formula 1, right?”
“Yeah, I’m an engineer for one of the teams.”
“That’s… amazing,” she said, looking genuinely impressed. “I always knew you were smart, but I didn’t realize… well, you know.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, but Jude jumped in, his arm draping casually around my shoulders.
“She’s a genius. She’ll never admit it, but she’s probably the best engineer in F1 right now.”
I blushed, nudging him playfully. “Stop exaggerating.”
The girl chuckled awkwardly, clearly a bit starstruck by Jude’s presence. “Well, it’s great to see you doing so well. And… with him. That’s pretty cool.”
After she left, I turned to Jude, who was grinning like he’d just won the Champions League.
“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jude grinned. “See? People notice. They’re impressed, as they should be.”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “You’re biased.”
“Maybe,” he said, leaning in to kiss my temple. “But I’m also right.”
As we walked through the shopping center, I could still feel people glancing our way, some whispering, others taking quick pictures on their phones. But for the first time, I didn’t feel like the awkward, out-of-place girl from school. I felt like someone who had earned her place in the world, someone who had worked hard and made it.
A few more people came up to Jude, asking for pictures or autographs, but he always made sure to include me in the conversation, making it clear that I wasn’t just the girl on his arm. I was someone in my own right.
At one point, a young girl, probably no older than ten, approached me shyly. She held a notebook in her hand, her eyes wide with admiration.
“Excuse me,” she said quietly, “are you the F1 engineer? The one who works with the cars?”
I blinked in surprise, glancing at Jude before nodding. “Yeah, that’s me.”
Her face lit up, and she held out her notebook. “Could I have your autograph? I want to be an engineer one day, just like you.”
My heart melted, and I took the notebook from her, scribbling my name with a quick message of encouragement. “You can be whatever you want to be,” I told her, handing it back. “Just keep working hard and never stop believing in yourself.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Thank you!”
As she ran off, I turned to Jude, who was watching me with a proud smile.
“See?” he said softly. “You’re a role model.”
I smiled, leaning into him. “I guess I am.”
As we walked, Jude nudged me with his elbow.
“You handled that like a pro.”
“I don’t know how you do it all the time,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
He laughed. “You get used to it.”
Jude looked over at me, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m proud of you, you know.”
I glanced up at him, my heart swelling with affection. “For what?”
“For being you. For everything you’ve accomplished. And for putting up with me,” he teased, nudging me playfully.
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in years. “It’s not always easy, but I manage.”
As we left the shopping center and headed back to the car, I realized something important. This place might have been where my story started, but it didn’t define me anymore. I had moved on, grown, become someone I was proud of. And with Jude by my side, I knew I could face whatever came next, even if it meant coming back to the place I once tried so hard to leave behind.
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menagerofmischief · 2 months ago
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Hello, idk if you are comfortable writing for dom!female reader, if not you can just leave that one out :)
Server: Franco Colapinto
Starter: hummus nachos
Hot appetizer
Mains: carbonara
Drinks: espresso (dom!reader)
Pumpkin spice latte
Dessert: Yes
Favorite track: monza
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Dia's Diner Menu
hummus nachos teammates hot appetizer sweet sex carbonara "Look so good on my cock" espresso dom/sub (dom!reader) pumpkin spice latte losing virginity (virgin!Franco) dessert aftercare + mint tea body worship (on the house)
Franco Colapinto x Williams!driver!reader
TW: unprotected sex (don't do it tho), dom!reader, cowgirl
WC: 1.4k
A/N: I haven't written anything in a while so this may actually be shit. Also, not BETA'D, we die like Logan's F1 career.
It all started rather simply, really. A bunch of people from the grid went out clubbing to celebrate the end of the race and the three week break that was going to follow it. The club was full of people, music loudly blasting from the speakers. 
One drink after another and one thing leading up to the next, I ended up dancing with Franco. He was the newest addition to my team, two races in after he replaced Logan mid season, Franco was turning up to be a rather good driver. 
We’ve been friendly right from the start, possibly more than friendly if you counted all those light touches and consonant flirting. It was safe to say we were being much more than friendly right now as my hips were grinding against his while his face was hidden in the crook of my neck, lips gently sucking on the skin there.
“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” I barely managed to ask, the heat around us and his lips on my neck making it hard to find my voice and speak up.
“Yes,” he breathed out, hands gripping my waist. “Please.”
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
We barely made it to my hotel room, stopping our exploring touches and pulling away once the elevator doors slid open and rushing to open the door and get inside. 
As soon as I closed the door I was back to lightly touching Franco, leaning my body into his and kissing him deeply, feeling his tongue run against my own.
“God, you’re so pretty.” I said, pulling away from him to get a good look. His hair was messed up, cheeks flushed red and eyes half closed. 
He let out a breathless laugh, smiling at me before diving back down into another kiss. “Please,” he all but whined, hands tugging at the bottom of my dress.
“Please what?” I asked, lips brushing against his with every word spoken. “You need to use your words to tell me what you want, pretty boy.”
“Want you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Need you. Need to feel you, please”
“There we go,” I said, a smile playing on my lips while my fingers were quickly undoing the buttons of his shirt. Once the last button was popped open Franco wasted no time in shrugging his shirt off, leaving his upper body bare.
“Fuck,” my hands moved on their own, first palms flat against his chest, his stomach and muscles and then moving to explore every inch of his skin I could. 
“Never done this before . . . Feels good, fuck.” He said under his breath but I caught every word, my movement instantly stopping while I stared at him. His eyes opened wide, pupils blown as he realized what he said and panic became noticeable on his face.
“You’re a virgin?”
I went to pull my hand away but he grabbed my wrist before I could and returned it to his chest. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I’m not entirely inexperienced I promise! I know how to pleasure you, please let me…”
“No sweetheart it’s not that.” I lifted one hand up to cup his cheek, offering him a comforting smile which seemed to ease his nerved just a bit. “It’s just . . . are you sure you want to do this? With me? Now?”
“Yeah, yes - I’m sure, I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 
“Okay,” I whispered, watching as his shoulders relaxed. “Let’s get these off then.” I touched the waistband of his jeans and Franco eagerly nodded, reaching to open his jeans but I moved his hands aside and did it myself.
I kneeled down, hearing Franco’s breath hitch, his eyes focused on me. I pulled his jeans down, leaning to place a kiss on each of his thighs. “You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” I told him, stroking the skin of his thigh before reaching to pull down his boxers as well. “With the prettiest dick too.”
I placed a kiss on the tip of his cock causing Franco to moan. One of his hands went into my hair, grabbing a fist full and gently pulling me back. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and saw the look of desperation on his face. 
“I’d love that, really would,” he rambled, his fingers easing in my hair making sure not to pull any out. “But I need to feel you around me, please. Wanna be in you, please, please!”
“Come on, let’s get on the bed,” I said, pulling off my dress while Franco eagerly scrambled to sit on the bed, pushing himself up towards the headboard. I took my panties off as well, leaving myself in my bra only and made my way to join Franco on the bed.
I crawled up the bed until I was straddling Franco, the tip of his cock barely rubbing against my clit causing me to take a few breaths. “Gonna let me ride you, baby?” 
Franco moaned when I slid my pussy against the length of his dick, his hands coming up to grip my waist for support. “Yes,” he whispered, voice thick with desire and need. “Ride me. Use me for your pleasure.”
I wasted no time, reaching a hand between our bodies to grab his dick and position the tip at my already slick entrance. I slowly sunk down on his, hissing at the initial stretch and the burn of getting used to his size.
After a few seconds I began moving, lifting up my hips a few inches and pushing them back down again, making both of us moan. Franco’s hands slipped from my waist to the back of my thighs, he gripped them hard enough for me to know they were going to bruise tomorrow, and began helping me bounce on his cock.
“Fuck,” Franco grunted, face scrunched up in please. “Look so good on my cock. Feel amazing too. So much better than I imagined.”
“Yeah?” I asked, with a breathless laugh. “Imagined me bouncing on your dick, using you to get my fill. Did you touch yourself while thinking about what I would sound like with your dick in my pussy?”
Franco whined. I could tell he was getting close by the way his cock twitched inside of me. He let go of my thighs, one hand wrapping around me and pulling me closer to his chest while the other sneaked between us to rub on my clit.
My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve light up with his touch. It felt good, all of it felt so good. His dick sliding in and out of me, hitting my sensitive spots with every movement, his tip kissing against my cervix from how deep he was and his fingers desperately rubbing circled on my clit.
I came with a loud moan, Franco following right behind, his orgasm triggered by mine. He put his face in my neck, muffling the sound of his moans as he came.
We both stopped moving for a few moments, taking deep breaths and allowing ourselves to ride down the high. Then I slowly lifted myself of him, his now softening dick slipping out of me. He looked so blissed out I couldn’t help myself but lean to kiss him.
“Where are you going?” He asked me as I slipped out of the bed. His hand reaching towards me, a lazy smile on his lips as he wiggled his fingers.
“To the toilet real quick, then I’ll be right back.” True to my word, I went to the toilet quickly, using a warm towel to wipe his cum from my pussy. I returned back to bed with two bottles of water and a box of Oreo’s. 
I passed one bottle to Franco while I settled up next to him, placing a kiss on his cheek before leaning my head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around me. “That was … “
“Amazing?”
“Yeah, amazing sound about right.”
Silence filled the room for a few moment before Franco spoke up. “This wasn’t really a one time thing for me. I like you, a lot.”
I smiled, “I like you too. A lot.” I took his free hand in mine, intertwining our fingers together. “But we can talk about it more in the morning. Right now let’s just cuddle.” 
Franco chuckled, “Let’s cuddle,” he agreed.
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soleilapproves · 29 days ago
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Imagine being on a business trip with coworker!Nanami and he surprises you with the fact that he can dance (ITS A GOOD CONCEPT I SWEAR)
Also, I don’t drink so I don’t know much info on ordering drinks at a restaurant </3
Masterlist
-•-
Nanami has always been the only coworker you could tolerate. You both had immediately gotten along on your first day and had been friends ever since. You liked him because he was the most competent man in your department. He liked you because you did your work well and occasionally baked homemade focaccia for him.
You could say that the two of you were very good friends (since Gojo from Accounting said that he was Nanami’s self proclaimed best friend first).
Which is why you thanked the stars when you found out that he’d be the only one who’d be going on the annual business trip with you. He was the perfect travel partner, he offered to bump you up to a first class seat with him using HIS miles (because he couldn’t besr being separated from you since your old seat was all the way back in business class). He didn’t even drink the entire flight because he believed that it was unprofessional on a business trip.
Did I also mention that he offered to pay for your inflight WiFi? Swoon.
The week long business trip went great! Your clients were very happy with the presentations that the two of you did together and called you a great team! (Take that Gojo from Accounting). To celebrate your last night, the two of you went to a restaurant / dance bar. The dance floor wasn’t packed but it was crowded with people who were drinking and having a good time. The two of you watched all the couples dancing and you couldn’t help but feel a little woeful.
Nanami noticed how you wouldn’t stop staring at all the couples in the restaurant / bar. “I know what you’re thinking.” He said with a small smile. “What?” You mimic his smile, feeling a deer caught in headlights. “You wanna dance, don’t you?”
You can’t believe him. “What? No! I just, I don’t know. I feel like this is the kind of place couples come to. It would be nice to be here with a date instead of my coworker-slash-friend. No offense.” You confessed. But to be fair, this particular part of the night didn’t feel like a business trip. It felt like two friends hanging out. “None taken.” He put his hands up in defense. “Since you’re so down-” he looked away from you mid sentence and rose his hand. “Can we get some shots here!”
You were surprised at his sudden change of mind. “I thought you didn’t drink on business trips.” He simply shrugged and downed one shot as soon as the waiter arrived. “And we have an early flight in the morning.” You continued as he downed another. “You only live once.” He said as he winked. “Plus, we’re done with all the work. The business part of this trip is over.” Did the alcohol get to him already?
You could see him starting to get agitated with the way his head slowly bobbed to the Spanish music playing through the speakers. You never realized how attractive Nanami could be when he let go of himself. His blond hair was all disheveled, his tie barely hanging on to his neck with the way he had pulled it loose, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows giving you a delicious view of his veiny forearms. You hate to admit it but your friend was HOT.
He suddenly got up while continuing to bob his head, but this time, there was some extra movement in his shoulders. “Where are you going?” He didn’t reply but made a gesture where he used his fingers to say ‘keep your eyes on me.’
He started moving to the upbeat Spanish song, matching the sound of the guitar. “You know salsa?” You exclaimed, still sitting. He nodded as he asked you to come closer with his pointer finger. You felt like you were entranced, so you took a shot and walked to him.
He instantly took the lead by grabbing you by your waist and turning you around so that you were sinfully pressed against him. He had a strong grip on your hips so that you both could move simultaneously to the music. This was way more intimate than grinding at some random dude in a club.
He spun you around and held you quite firmly for a tipsy person so that you wouldn’t fall. When he dipped you, you could feel his warm breath against your neck as he leaned in. At this point, the two of you were stealing the show so all the locals moved out and started cheering the two of you.
He ended the dance with lifting you and spinning you around. You held on as tightly as you could since the alcohol was making you feel light headed. Once the music stopped, the crowd started clapping at your little show and you both couldn’t stop laughing and staring into each other’s eyes. Nanami suddenly stopped laughing and kept glancing at your lips. He wanted to kiss them but he knew better than to do it in front of an audience.
“You wanna get out of here?” He breathed out.
-•-
Idk how to write smut (for now).
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pierofilm · 3 months ago
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yandere simulator; xo (only if you say yes)
2024 | 18+ | RUNTIME: 23K | STARRING > Y.JW | SUMMARY; when you—a corporate worker in her late twenties—finds a strange self-proclaimed online game "no one has ever win this game yet", where its premise are centered around yanderes, but instead of the classic route where the yanderes had to chase you, it is you who have to do it; turn the boy you've chosen into a lovesick creature for you before someone else does. playing it online is surely fine, but what happens when you find yourself stuck in its world?
GENRE: yandere, survival/death game, character-driven story, violence/gore, dark psychology, psychological thriller, drama
LVL 2 WARNING: intense emotional outbursts, minor graphic details of gore, ;; not a native eng speaker! grammar errors ahead!,
THEME MUSIC: ROSEATE LIGHT / BGM.
DIRECTOR'S CUT, ep 2 is finally out after two months of grinding!! its not my best work, as im kind of bummed with my eng. i've revised it countless of times, so apologies for any mistakes but regardless i hope yall will still love it <3 btw i don't do taglist for my works, apologies for that! so today concludes the last release for this roleplay game bc i have to finish two film projects which has been delayed for quite awhile now :'( so there won't be any update until further notice! soo yeah 𖹭 hope you enjoy and tyvm for reading!
loading... lvl ②
this is a roleplay story game with a poll, where you may either choose to observe yourself as the protagonist or the one helping the protagonist. to play the game, it is advise to read the story properly because once you've reached the bottom, a poll will be presented with multiple routes you have to choose. every level's poll has a 1-week time limit, and therefore it is advise to not rush to vote and to have a discussion among each other first, and to think wisely which choice you think are the best —as the majority of the votes will decide how the game progresses. but its important to keep in mind, that each route has its advantages and disadvantages and may lead to the protagonists' downfall rather than benefiting her.
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AUG 23. 2024
EARTH, ****
i. WHAT IS A GAME TO YOU?
A game is an activity, one that engages with for newfound experiences, for amusement and fun, or simply out of pure boredom.
In a sense, it is a virtual world where you are able to do something you were unable to do in the real world; to live out a role. There are numerous, vast array of games, whether it be analog or digital. So many of them, you couldn't get the definitive, exact count of the total number that exists in the world.
But does that even matter when its main core is to give you an experience out of this world?
The real world.
Where humans assume a role the moment they realize what it meant to live and survive, yet not just one but many. We often rotate these roles like a roulette depending on who we talk with, or what kind of situation we're in, maybe what is expected of us, or to abide by of what is our current status and position.
The origin of the word 'role' could be trace back further to French rôle from obsolete French roule ‘roll’, referring to the roll of paper on which an actor's part was written, and also from Latin—rotula, rotulus 'little wheel', which is a diminutive of rota 'wheel'.
In a sense, we created scripts in our head of how we should act. Because think of this, how would you act if your mechanics suddenly acted like a doctor? Its weird, right? Or maybe depending on your opinion, you may find it hilarious.
That's why we act according to our role, the part given to us, and the many parts that we've assumed on our own.
The most famous quote expressing this comes from Shakespeare: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." 
Shakespeare are implying that all of us are constantly wearing masks. That some people are better actors than others, and he was right.
Person, comes from Old French persone, which derived from Latin persona which means 'actor's mask, character in a play'.
We're all actors in a colossal stage play, with roles to play.
A theatre; maybe you could compare the the actors as blocks—maybe a Jenga? A colossal building blocks that fits perfectly together, forming a cohesive tightly fitting society. Major or minor, each block is a component that serves a purpose to the society—fulfilling our respective roles. Yet that role can be taken away as easy as it was given to you, or even if you worked hard for it.
Why?
There are exactly eight billion people in this world, and these numbers will kept growing. Shall that mask comes off, or if you do not play your role properly, will society still accept you?
No. We are all too easily replaceable.
One block could be filled in or pulled out when the circumstances sees it fit, it's one heck of a big thing, anyways.
Whether it be in your personal life such as friendships, ever heard about trios rarely works? Or in relationships where your lover seems to pay no attention to you any longer and you are left wondering what went wrong? Or perhaps, in your career—where you are thrown out as soon as someone new, someone way younger and capable than you are came around despite pouring your best efforts in that field for so long.
A brief, momentary experience.
Yet some blocks get to never fit in, though. Never knowing how it feels like to be in one. Because it just, never fits in. It remains as a part of the auditorium, sandwiched in between the audience seat.
Say, you desire to inherit a farm or live in the countryside but you don't even have any family nor relatives in this field. Ever wanted to ride a dragon and wear a dazzling heavy armor across the sky? Or have your own restaurant whether it be a Chinese cuisine, maybe not that one but a pizza restaurant where you serve millions of people? Start your own business startup, sign all those contracts with the tycoons and earn that huge bucks of stacks but just don't have the time, energy, and capital to do so? Or maybe a pet shop because you had the unrealistic wish to own dozens of pet breeds?
Want to go through the nine-month process of pregnancy but all the post-pregnancy effects has your face cringing in fear? Or you just wanted to have a small cozy home yet you're too broke to even afford one? A healthy relationship, a functional family? A loving mother? Sure. A responsible father? On the way! Or you just wanted to feel loved? The bare minimum of all?
Sometimes, we're not so satisfied with the roles we end up in—that we are engulfed with a desire.
It could just be a mere hobby, to escape reality, a stress reliever, or to be part of a story you've never been and desires to be in. Its a role that deviates from who you are, from the hands of judgement of the court, where no one can judge you. To live as someone.
A virtual experiences. An immersion. A roleplay. A recreation. A simulation. Whatever you call it, all of them was meant to satisfy. To satisfy an urge, a want, a need—a desire for something. To feel something. To fill in this hollow void within.
To relive what was lost or to live what never existed in the first place.
Because why do we even read stories in the first place, then?
Something you can only do behind that screen, just a second away from your digits.
A chance.
And you were being given the second chance to relive those experience one more time, without having to give something in return.
It is one in a lifetime chance, the fact they don't give this freely to anyone enticed you, tempted you.
You desired to be love and craved for with no care for limit. For you were sure as hell no one would go crazy for you in this life. For you, yanderes are the epitome of love that are eternal and immortal. Anyone can say what they want to, but this kind love, no matter how toxic it may be, are divinely tempting.
For once, you wanted to be loved, not to love.
What harm would it do to you, even? Unless this game pulled a dirty trick of asking you to pay a heavy sum of bucks after, then it go screw itself, you could just press the exit button as swift as you can but for now, you'll see to it.
You accepted the package.
Pressing the button, a set of gift boxes in a variety of colours in their ribbons appeared much to your surprise, floating around in a rhythmic motion accompanied by a new BGM before settling down in a row at the bottom of your screen.
Curious, yet intrigued—you tapped on each gift box.
➤ .. 🎁 HEARTY EYES: APPEARANCE INCREASED BY 10 POINTS!
➤ .. 🎁 LOVE POTION: A WHIFF OF ROSY SCENT!
➤ .. 🎁REPUTATION METER: INCREASE BY 5 POINTS!
New XPs and skills made its appearance one by one, lighting up your eyes with delight and excitement. This new additional gifts would surely help you in your second try! A final gift box appeared out of blue much to your surprise, there's one more? Gulping down with giddiness, exceedingly curious of what it could contain, you tapped it with no hesitation.
➤ .. 🎁 DRESS-UP DARLING, THE GRAND INVITATION: REVEL IN YOUR NEW SKIN!
Eh? Invitation? Skin..?
You rubbed your heavy lids, for what purpose would you need a new skin for? Brows knitted deeply together deeply the peculiar package. Perhaps it could contained some extra points that may increase your appearance judging by its title.
New skin..
You accepted the gift box, and to your surprise—it returned you back to the options of play again, or return to the main menu in which you pressed the latter. What? That's it? No such thing as redirecting you into a fishy website, or all those eye-boggling digits?
Breathing out a small wow, although short-lived as your jaw dropped. Gasping after noticing the devil hours glaring back at you—illuminating your dark eyebags in blue hues—the sequences of events where your employer scolded you, slamming the colossal bold title of 'fired'—sending you in sheer panic.
Placing it under your pillow on your right side, you hurried to sleep as you tucked yourself in your cozy blankets.
Pitch black cloaked the entire expanse of the sky, yet the hush of the moon herself—conquered with vigor, casted a soothing spell—beckoning your heavy lids to succumb to its embrace.
Drifting into the darkness, you did.
Unbeknownst to you, a glow of light flickers beneath your pillow—illuminating the edge of your slumber face, approaching like mist— overshadowing the moon—dusting half of your nose a stroke of rosy tint, morphing into a heavier shade that consumes your face, to scathing your entire skin in streaks of crimson.
It progressively crawled out like an animated form of blood, dripping down your bed and onto your floor—morphing into razor sharp fingers that obscured your windows from the outside world.
Submerging your window in deep red, illustrating the image of an apocalyptic day.
The floor, your furniture, your closet—enveloped by its approaching force—bathing everything it could see in red. Returning to your side, it tucks your locks behind your ear before slithering across your arm, twirling around and settling on the table by the bed.
A display screen glowed amidst the flaming red, typing out a text:
APRIL 8, 2026 ➤ .. Good night, my darling.
The ceiling of your room greeted your drowsy lids. You groaned, irritated by the rays of the sun peering through the gaps of the curtain—casting its searing heat on your face.
You shifted your body where your back faces the window, your hands instinctively searching for your phone under your pillow, frowning when you couldn't grab anything.
Head clouded with slumber, you were sure you had placed it right there. Shifting your body once more, yawning as you stretched your hands on the bedside table.
There it is!
Raising your eyelids a bit, you tapped your phone's screen twice expecting to be greeted by your lock screen. Eyebrows knitting deeply as you quickly paused, rubbing your eyes to get a better look.
"Huh?"
Stunned by the peculiar color of rosy pink blotting your blurry vision. You felt the cold material in your palms, searching for the supposedly touch screen but it was too small and slim—hold on. You jammed your thumb in-between the two layers, flicking it open.
The heck is this? A flip phone? You were sure you've threw your barely working flip phone years ago. And it wasn't even p-pink?
Your sleep-dazed brain swirls with deeper confusion as you navigated through the strange tiny icons. All dripping in pink much to your disbelief.
Favors? Schedule? Student info? What the heck is all this weird stuffs? Your eyes widened when you finally notice the three-digit clock, it propels your body to tense almost immediately, sitting right up with eyes blown wide.
A high-pitched of whines escapes your lips. You're in for a great risk of getting fired today. You pulled the blanket off your frame, hurrying to get ready before all the eerie prospects in your mind come true—
Huh? Hold on.
Your body halted when you put your bare feet on the floor, eyes falling on a carpet that strangely looks a tad bit different than it used to. The patterns? The color? Groaning, you passed it off as another trick your brain playing on you as you just woke up. You rubbed your groggy eyes, yawning as you sprinted to the bathroom.
You really got no time for this, mumbling as you grabbed your toothbrush, putting a toothpaste on it before pushing into your mouth. So much for playing the damn game, now you're terribly, terribly late.
A fatal hit to your ten year streak as a diligent corporate worker. Now that you thought of it, a sigh escapes amidst the bubbles in your mouth. After awhile, with this mundane average life of yours that you've lived over the years, you've begin to wonder when will the time come for you to save up enough money to be able to quit? You've never had even a single vacation out of embarrassment and consideration for your co-workers.
At some point, you've felt like you were an automatic machine repeating and completing the same tasks every single day for ten years. It came to a brief thought that perhaps you were only truly living at night.
If only there's a world where you an escape to for awhile, away from this boring reality. But there's no way that world exists. If only you could—
Thoughts halted, looking at your reflection in the mirror. There is something wrong, and no, it's not your face—though you look strangely youthful? Leaning closer, you inspected your features with furrowed brows. Dark eyebags and the wrinkles nowhere to be found.
Eh?
Heck, you weren't that old, for sure. Yet you look slightly younger for some reason. Squinting your eyes, you stood a few inches away from the mirror, pulling a random poses as you try to observe anything you could find. Poking your cheeks that was strangely supple, a stark contrast of the hollow cheekbones you captured in your camera a few days ago, complaining to your friend of how you were aging so rapidly.
All those random beauty products she recommended to you finally worked out? Or was it the short burst of sleep you got? Knitting your eyebrows together at the thought as you resumed brushing your teeth, it can't be though?
Wait. Hold on.
You let out a gasp, snapping your head behind to you where your bathtub stood in it's glory. That's it. That's the shit. That pristine ceramic shooting rays against your face.
You don't have a fucking bathtub.
Where did that giant heck of a thing came from?
You've spent all your years dreaming for one, to submerged yourself in bubbles to chill in after a long day of work.
However to do that, a better apartment and an extra space is what you needed first, where you could put everything in their respective place. Having everything meld into one small room is mentally exhausting, and that wish only seems get further and further away from your grasp when that five digits holding the thread of your life keeps slamming you back to reality, leaving you cramped up inside your tiny apartment.
Maybe this is the sign that you should just be grateful and not to be greedy for more. But..
But this thing—is truly in front of you.
You took a few steps backwards to take a full view of the bathroom; it's oddly familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. You were sure you've seen this somewhere but you can't put it right in your mouth. With confusion hanging in your head so deep, you took a few gargles—finishing up.
Thinking back to it, this bathtub kind of look familiar.
You stood by the door, pausing for a thought you tilt your head sideways.
Something is amiss and it begin to sink in.
This is not your room.
With the realization setting in complete form, you stood there in bewilderment—snapping your head around, observing the unfamiliar furniture and corners of this strange room.
Where are you? And what the hell is that uniform hanging at the wall for? Are you perhaps having a lucid dream, where you could feel pain and all that sort of stuff? It must be those weird YouTube videos you've watched over the past few days.
Somehow, this looks like.. This looks like just like—
No way, though. You let out a nervous laugh. Pinching your cheeks hard, you let out a terribly loud 'ow', frowning at the throbbing pain. Why the heck does it hurts so much?!
➤ .. WELCOME, DARLING! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR SO LONG!
You lose your balance, letting out a high-pitched scream from your throat—tipping off your sole when a huge floating pink object emerged out of nothing at your face. A computer display?! Almost like the science fiction films you've watched, it resembled a hologram but much, much more vivid and vibrant, floating before you.
A p-popup?
"W—what? Huh?!" Elbows digging on the floor, your expressions contorts into an amalgamation of fear and confusion. You hissed at the throbbing pain on your butt, rubbing it off to ease the pain. Why the heck does it hurt so much?!
You notice as it swiftly typed out a question.
➤ .. OH MY... HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?
What is that thing?..
"W-what? What did I forgot?" Stammering, you blurted out without much thought.
➤ .. YOU LOSE LAST NIGHT. WHICH IS QUITE UNFORTUNATE, YET IT IS TO BE EXPECTED, AFTER ALL.
"The heck are you talking about?"
➤ .. YOU'RE IN MY GAME.. IN THE WORLD OF YANDERE SIMULATOR!
It took you a whole minute to process the words, laying there on your elbows. Until a high-pitched laughter spills out of your mouth, legs kicking in frantic motions as you try to push yourself up to stand.
Yandere Simulator? The game you were playing?
Bursting into another round of giggles, holding your stomach with your arms at this newfound joke. "M-me? In a game? More like in a dream!"
After what seem like a long laugh. You let out a huge exhale, now completely sure that this is a dream.
"Okay, wake up now," You slapped yourself on the cheek lightly a few times, clearing your throat as you shut your eyes tight. "You're too freaking obsessed with that game for god's sake. Wake up, wake up!"
A few beats of silence echoes.
You open your left eye, taking a peek. But to your disappointment, you're still in this weird dream.
➤ .. YOU'RE IN MY GAME. DON'T YOU GET IT?
You ignored it. Rushing back to the bed, tucking yourself in the blankets. Go back to sleep, idiot. You screamed in your head.
A robotic giggle suddenly hit your ears, forcing your eyes to open as goosebumps riled across your skin.
That thing is giggling for fuck's sake, you thought. It bounces as its pink color flickers on and off, syncing with its giggles.
➤ .. WELL, I'LL LEAVE IT UP TO YOU TO FIND IT OUT YOURSELF THEN. IT'S A GAME AFTER ALL!
Your jaw dropped. It disappeared. More like vanishes into nothing like how it appeared out of blue. What? You weren't imagining things, do you? It w-was there, just now!
You immediately stood up, with your foot planted firmly on the floor, urgency and nervousness amplified with every second.
A game? How ridiculous.
This place that somehow resembles the game you've been playing for awhile now, it's complete nonsense. Your brain tries to search for an answer and your face beams up.
Or perhaps is it the end of the world? Have Earth been conquered at last?! Were all those news from thirteen years ago were real? Repulsed by the idea, you lose your tipping trying to make sense of this holographic square before you.
But wait, Earth is too dumb for aliens to even consider to conquer. Maybe you've had time traveled? Shit. Have you accidentally teleported into the future where cities had advanced in great lengths and technology? It could explain why that weird thing just now resembles those science-fiction stuffs.
"Am I.." You pointed towards yourself, voicing out a scary question. "In the future? Like 3000-ish or something?"
No? Thank god.
Wait, this could be lucid dreaming, though.
The fact that you're having a dream of the game, it must've been triggered by your outbursts of your failure last night. Such a vivid and immersive experience, there's no more fitting answer than that. Were you so damn obsessed with the entire game to lead you this point?
You scoffed in disbelief, placing your hands on your waist as you poked your cheek with your tongue. This is stupid.
If this is a lucid dream, then.. If you recall it correctly, to exit out of it—it requires you to say a script out loud, or perhaps do a particular action such as exiting a door or running across a hallway to mimic the speed of time, so as to accelerate your brain back to its conscious mode.
Appalled by the sequences of this strange dream, you made up your mind as your eyes darted over the door. Here you go! Pushing the door open with your might, you're greeted by a strange hall filled with rooms on your either side. This is strange, you thought. Without wasting any more time, you sprinted down the stairs where you can see a ray of light illuminating the bottom of the stairs.
Jumping off, you took a leap—landing on your feet with a thud.
"Dear, what's going on?"
You froze on the spot.
That voice. That face. It can't be..
W-what is t-this?
You haven't heard it for so long. How long had it been? You lose your footing on the stairs, covering your mouth as your hand trembles, mimicking the rampant movement of your pupils. This portrait before you, one that was long forgotten, one you've last seen so long ago.
"H-how?" You found yourself falling into your father's arms, feeling his warmth. The sensation of his freezing palms when you held it in the morgue crashes back to your head. Am I in heaven?
Were you actually dead?
"D-dad!" You wailed in his arms, gasping for air, you tried to wrap your head in this dilemma. "Y-you know that I m-miss you so much! Why did you left without saying anything?!"
No response.
Wiping off the tears off your eyes as you pulled away, trying to take one more look at your long dead father. He can't be here, you've seen it, with your own two eyes when he was buried sixty feet underground.
But this man right here, that face. You're not mistaken. From the head to toe, it was just like the day you've last seen him. "You- you aren't real, are you?"
"Honey, sweetie, breakfast is ready!"
The voice of your mother caught you off guard, eyes darting swiftly at the door across the room—caught off guard by the voice calling for you from the kitchen. Mom? Why is she— Beside her, your elder sister and younger brother are seated in the dining room, waving their palms at you,
"M-mom? Sis? What are you all doing here?"
With questions growing havoc inside you, the appearance of your mother preparing food in the kitchen puzzled you deeper. You look over at the dining room where your siblings are seated, indulging in their phones with your father now joining them in the middle—reading his newspaper for the day.
A scene all too familiar that it crawls all over your skin with rampant fear.
Home. It felt like home. But at the same time.. its not.
"Am I really dreaming?" You cupped your face, feeling the evident warmth of your blood rushing to your cheeks.
"What's wrong?"
Your soul shrinks at that voice. A gasp escapes your throat as thousand no's shrouded your head knowing all too well that this is purely impossible. Before you knew it, tears spill once more from your eyes as you turned your head towards that voice—however this one bears no longing, nor sorrow—it was resentment swirling with humiliation.
The visage that brought your whole world crumbling into pieces, flooding back a long forgotten winter that cripples away your will to wait for the next spring.
You feel yourself turning small, vulnerable—a thousand needles absorbing into your ribs. "What are you doing-" Whimpering, you casted nervous glances at everyone, "W-why is h-he here..?"
Taking a few step backwards, as you release a shaky breathe.
"W-who let him in?"
You frantically glance at your family, desperate for a response, an answer. Whereby the pitch of your voice growing louder with every second that passes as they only casted you a spine-chilling stare.
A long, empty one.
"Who let him in here?!" You repeated.
"Sister? What's wrong?" He tilted his head down, bearing an innocent expression.
"S-sister?" You emitted a scoff of disbelief, raising your arm to harshly point at him and then towards the door. "What sick game are you playing?! Get out! Get out!"
"Why are you saying that to your brother, honey?"
"Brother? M-mom— Are you being for real?!"
"Why, honey? He is your brother, you grew up together."
You were on the verge of cursing when suddenly your family—every single of them, suddenly stood in synchronization.
Alarmed by the downright frightening scene, your feet instinctively step backwards. "W-what's going on?"
If fear was something you'd never truly comprehend before, then this one tops it all.
"What's going on?" Each one of them repeated the same sentence, voices layered on top of another, resembling a cult ritual. "Darling. This is your reality." They all look back at you.
Your heart palpitate rapidly, every muscle in your body pulsated in sheer terror. Voice dripped in heavy desperation, only for it to come out louder than you expected it to. "What the fuck?!"
Suddenly, the familiar robotic giggle reaches your ears from behind.
➤ .. SO HOW'D YOU LIKE MY GIFT? ➤ .. I BROUGHT THEM HERE FOR YOU, ➤ .. SO YOU WON'T BE SO LONELY.
Your blood-shot eyes snapped to its direction, stumbling backwards on the stairs with terror engulfing your soul.
"W-who are you?" You yelled at the top of your lungs. "What are you?!"
That thing resembling a computer display carries such a heavy presence with it, you can feel it crawling in your soul—the display screen gnawing at your frame despite its lack of facial expression. Mimicking your movement and the text box flashing in timed intervals indicating its next reply didn't do nothing but give you a heavy uneasiness.
This unsettling energy it carries as it begins to type out a new sentence.
You are aching so bad to get away from this thing as far as you can.
➤ .. WHAT CAN I SAY, WHAT AM I? JUST A LITTLE POP-UP TO GUIDE YOU IN THIS WORLD.
Your frown deepens, "Guide m-me? What?"
➤ .. I TOLD YOU, DIDN'T I? YOU'RE IN A GAME.
"Stop that bullshit! Just what kind of nightmare is this?!" Smacking yourself in the cheeks once more, yet harder than you did the first time.
With trembling hands, you try to force yourself to wake up from this terrifying nightmare.
➤ .. "TAKE A LOOK AROUND FOR YOURSELF, THEN, AND SEE WHERE YOU ARE STANDING RIGHT NOW. ➤ .. DOESN'T IT LOOK FAMILIAR?"
Splayed fingers over your eyes, you observed the whole space.
These peculiar animated expressions despite the humane features, despite being the faces you've held love for—it's akin to machines having a prosthetic skin glued on it, mimicking the data installed in their drive.
But it can't be. It's just completely impossible for you even to wrap it around your head.
You, in a game?
Heart rampant. Clammy hands. Your feet frantically deciding which way to go. Before your eyes caught on to the sun rays peering behind the closed curtains, rushing towards it— swiftly pulling it open.
No. It can't be.
With disjointed thoughts, eyes darting around you. You searched for logical explanations yet with this pounding chest, trying to form a coherent sentence. Your mind says that it can't be possible, but your eyes are saying otherwise.
"T-there's no w-way."
Yet as you turned your head to every single thing in this house, your blood runs colder and colder. Every single furniture you've tapped on a screen are now before your eyes. The hours you spent on navigating around the living room, before going on with your missions and side tasks—it was now all here.
All before your eyes. Where your fingers could feel the physical edges and corners. Every single thing.
➤ .. "YES YOU ARE! AIN'T IT FUN? A WHOLE NEW IMMERSIVE EXPERIENCE! ➤ .. YOU CAN NOW MEET JUNGWON, HIMSELF!"
No.
There's no way this was possible. You can't accept it. No. No. No.
"No, t-this is not it!" Stammering, you shook your head frantically. "T-this is n-not what I wanted!"
➤ .. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN? ➤ .. DON'T YOU DESIRE TO MEET YOUR FAVOURITE BOY WITH YOUR OWN EYES?"
In your head, it sinks in deeper and thoroughly.
"I don't- I don't care!" Panic emerges inside you. "Is there a way out? There must be, right?! I don't want to stay here!"
➤ .. "OF COURSE YOU DO! WHY ELSE WOULD YOU TRY TO PLAY TWICE?"
"This is not what I mean!"
It came out louder than you expected, laced with sheer desperation as it finally sank in.
The ground doesn't feel real. Even this feet of yours. Everything is so out of place. The pitch of your voice spills out longer, dramatic and exaggerated. Your breathing grew heavier yet short, as if it were being pressed down by sheer gravity.
You look down on your hands, inspecting the finger prints yet it took just that before you clawed down your head as you imagined yourself in this vast virtual world where no one is alive but you.
You wanted to go back.
➤ .. "YOU DO. IT IS WHAT YOU WANTED IN THE FIRST PLACE. YOU'VE ACCEPTED MY INVITATION, REMEMBER? ➤ .. AND I DID NOTHING BUT GRANTED IT WITH PLIGHT."
You see nothing but red.
"Stop twisting my words." You spat out. "No! Bring me back! Th—this isn't what I wanted! You—whatever you are, please!"
"Just bring me back, to my home! I don't want to stay here!"
The pop-up remains silent, not typing out any response to your pleas.
The prospects of being trapped in here forever without any form of escape shrouded your thought with numerous case of scenarios of how lonely it would be, how scary it would be, rendering you to be totally emotional.
"How was I even able to get inside a game? That just isn't possible! Wake up, wake up!" You smacked yourself in the cheeks, pinching your arm only for you to let out a yelp.
It just floated, despite bearing no eyes. You felt like it was looking down on you with glee.
"Answer me! This was never stated anywhere in the game!"
Clutching on the table near you, struggling to keep yourself steady and composure.
You twisted your feet inwards, launching yourself to throw a punch at that thing, however it vanishes—causing you to fall on your hands. Hissing, It didn't deter you from trying once more, filling the space with your screams and profanities, however your humane limits is nothing in comparison with the swift and flawless dodges of the virtual pop-up.
You tried, over and over again.
Getting up countless of times, but not even a stroke of your finger could you land a hit on it.
➤ .. AN ADMIRABLE EFFORT, I MUST SAY. ➤ .. YET IT'S POINTLESS, MY DARLING.
Your feet paused on its tracks, exhausted beyond your limit. Fringe latching on your sweaty skin as you dropped on your knees in despair.
This... can't be your reality.
Clenching your fist tight, you pushed yourself up, racing towards the door, slamming it open only for you to squint your eyes at the blaring morning sunlight. Pushing you to look down to your bare feet planted against the asphalt, a strange feeling beneath your soles. It should've been ceramic..
Your body stiff as your eyes were presented with a sight you've never seen before.
Last night, you were inside your run-down apartment, three stories high where you could see the city tower beyond. Instead of the stairs greeting you in the morning when you opened your door, a gate stood across from you. High-rise buildings are nowhere to be seen, that should've been in high up there once you lifted your head up.
There was no way you could've been suddenly in a damn house. In a strange place. And in a town with its architecture's nothing close to where you came from.
Snapping your head to look behind you. Your stomach twisted and shattered in pits. It is that house.
➤ .. "ESCAPING IS FUTILE, MY DARLING. ➤ .. THIS WORLD IS ENDLESS, LIMITLESS. ➤ .. THERE'S NO POINT OF RETURN."
"Please, let me go!"
You can't be here. You still have work today. What if you lose your job? You have no knowledge of how time works here and there. Dropping on your knees, you crawled towards it—unsure of where to hold it, you clasped your hands together. "Please! I can't be here, I still have work! I still have to pay my bills! I— I haven't—"
➤ .. "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, DARLING? YOU AINT A FULL-FLEDGED ADULT YET. ➤ .. LOOK! YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE!"
It turns around to gesture inside the house, towards the clock on the wall—pulling your tear-filled eyes over it which are currently hovering at 7 AM sharp.
➤ .. "IT'S TIME TO GO TO SCHOOL."
"Bitch!" You spat out, gritting your teeth. "I've graduated eleven years ago! I don't want to play your stupid game!"
Screaming at it at the top of your lungs, growing desperate as the truth begins to sink in every passing second. Propelling your body to react in ways. Crying you did, sinking your body down in unfathomable depth of helplessness.
➤ .. "OH, DON'T CRY, MY SWEET DARLING."
"Is there really no way. . Out?" You mumbled to yourself amidst all the sniffing and heavy gasps. Overwhelmed by the truth alone.
➤ ..YOU JUST HAVE TO PLAY, AND PERHAPS YOU MAY BE ABLE TO RETURN. ➤ .. ALTHOUGH I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU HUMANS, I THOUGHT YOU WANTED A BIG HOUSE LIKE THIS ONE. ➤ .. WEREN'T YOU JUST WISHING TO LIVE IN A MORE COMFORTABLE SPACE?
That hits you. It struck the spot inside you where it was most vulnerable. How did it know? You were terrified to ask. Glaring at it with seething rage,
"Whoever you are, I refuse to play your sick game! Who knows what else you got under your sleeve!"
➤ .. AW, SO, YOU DO NOT DESIRE TO LIVE ANYMORE?
Tongue tied, of course you don't want to.
It's not like you were fed up with life to that point despite even after all those years. This wasn't part of the plan. Not in a game where you'll meet your worse death in dreams. This wasn't where you wish to move to, and you refuse to submit. You still wanted to marry. Find a good man and have your own little family—one that is filled with tiny giggles.
"No. You can't force me to play." Clenching your jaw, you spat at it with spite. "I don't care if you kill me. Fuck you and your game!"
Your shaky breath and the searing rays of the sun echoes and echoes, the only thing that was compensating for its lack of response. As it didn't type out any sentences, as if it was trying to comprehend your sentences into its mechanisms.
Until it did.
➤ .. THAT'S NEW, INTERESTING!
It beams up much to your bewilderment, looking almost too delighted? The colors on its display glowed a few shades brighter, compensating for its lack of facial expressions.
➤ .. IF PERHAPS YOU FRET THAT YOU'LL BE LONELY, THEN DON'T BE! YOU ARE NEVER TRULY ALONE IN THIS WORLD.
"They aren't real." You spat out.
➤ .. THEY ARE, BUT NOT FOR LONG
Your eyes widened. "What do you mean..?"
XO ! ii. NEVERLAND'S SONARE
Youthful.
You scanned your features in the mirror, fingertips grazing over the skin under your eyes—where heavy and dark eyebags use to persists, giving you a feeble appearance. Your employer often points it out with distasteful comments, expressing with disdain of how your haggard looks might deter potential clients away and bring discomfort to customers. Of how you ruin the atmosphere, his mood, specifically when you appeared. He often compares you with your fellow co-workers that seemed to look after their appearances with ease.
You complied, yet despite your best efforts in treating it, it just never seems to go away. But now, such a youthful look only to be laced with sullen eyes—not bearing even an ounce of energy.
Everyone wishes to be young once more. What is youth if not to run wild and free across whatever land you may imagine? Away from whatever life you wished to run from?
Not all people define youth the same way, though. To others, it may mean physical appearances. Downing a bunch of so-called youth pills, going through dozens of procedures, going under the knife, or the fantasy aspects of searching for the youth of fountain.
Some people, though—it meant going back to the way they was before a certain event had happened. The innocent little them that was filled with vigor and curiosity for life. Those vivid memories. These kind of people go through therapies, though.
Youth, youth.
What a funny word.
Yet it has such a deepened effect, a strong grasp on everyone's heads. But would ever they accept to be in a game just for that sake?
Another, yet different popup appears before you, displaying a few options.
▶ TELEPORT TO SCHOOL
▶ TELEPORT TO TOWN
▶ TELEPORT TO BASEMENT
What a sick joke.
"Honey? Shouldn't you sit down for breakfast?"
You halted in your steps, gripping your backpack's strap. Perturbed by the scene of your family with your ex-boyfriend by the dining table, this was peak nightmare.
Suppressing the need to scoff at the image of your 'mother', it will never sit right with you, to sit down on the same table with the characters replicated as your family. Even more so with the replica of your father. So fucking twisted.
Your arms ache to embrace him but this is not your father. A home is supposed to be your bed of comfort, a shelter for protection yet this gives you an overwhelming feeling of strangers clumped up in one space. And him. You couldn't comprehend a single thing. Fitting so tightly, but never seems to belong together.
"I'm.." You gulped down, "Not hungry." You said, a little low for them to hear. But does that even matter? When they will eventually forget it, and return to their soulless routine.
You stepped out of the house for the second time, turning even more helpless and small by the sheer size of this map. This city. The street. The open shops. The pedestrian street. Its people. Children crossing the street with glee and joy.
Their innocent laughter sickens you, twisting the pit of your stomach.
The chill spring breeze blows a mouthful of cherry petals across the path ahead of you, dripping with the warm rays of the morning sun, accompanied by the chirping birds above the trees.
It almost looks too real. Just like all these younglings clad in their brightest uniforms mingling and walking alongside you, behind you, and in front of you—shrouding your line of vision, filling the air with their chatters and laughter.
The entrance to the academy greets your eyes with its opulent golden gate, the same scene that you often see whenever you started the game in your phone.
To stand in front of it was beyond your wildest dreams. A sense of dread envelops your body as you begin to step in, seeing the NPCs functioning according their monotonous coding; the teachers conversing with each other, and the students taking of their shoes and replacing it with the school's ones, heading to their respective classrooms or whatever their routine was for the day.
You gulped down, doing the same thing.
Sandwiched in-between them qualms your entire being, turning your legs into noodles. You almost losing your footing when you accidentally bumped against one of the NPCs, apologizing profusely which they in turn gave you subtle weirded out reaction before going off.
Your peripheral view caught the sight of the rooms; faculty, sewing, and so on. As you stood there, observing and observing; your eyes fell on a student with a camera on their hand, being wary of everyone else. Across the hall, you found the familiar scene of the martial arts club's members walking in a straight line. The occult club's leader strolling on his own as usual. The luscious partly dyed hair fading across the stairs, with their sweater knotted around their torso.
You still find it hard to believe, lost in your shrouded thoughts.
"Ugh!" You stumbled, almost falling on the floor if not for your quick reflex of gripping the nearest table. Turning your head to the brief apology behind you, you held the need to scoff. Of course, what is there to be surprised of?
"Oh! Sorry, didn't know you were here. You got too close, after all."
Neatly combed ginger hair, with eyes turning into crescents paired with a sweet smile. A sickening one, truth to be told. The all too familiar armband wrapped around their left arm and that pristine white uniform; the student council.
Your greatest enemy in this virtual world.
Equipped with spectacular wits, eagled eyes waiting for you to make one single mistake, hands itching to throw you into the faculty room once you do so. These students, five of them, in fact—don't trust you a single bit. You recalled the days of how pissed you were whenever they're suddenly appeared, ruining your mission, forcing you to restart all over again.
You mumbled a small it's okay, and she nodded in response, heading off to the opposite direction but not before taking a small peek at you. A gesture that is greatly embedded in their code. If anything, apart from the teachers and cops, the council is something you really have to watch out for.
Dealing with them isn't an easy feat, even trying to kill them is nearly impossible if you don't join the martial arts club first. All that club practices, and skills you have to increase. It was already difficult enough before, and now that you had to do it with your own hands. Things won't get easier from now on.
You'd have to memorize their routine in your mind to properly avoid them.
On the east side of the academy, you head to the second floor where across the hall—classroom 2-1 greets your line of vision. Your feet halted as your ears caught on the conversations of the students chattering about and on, some other students arriving at the spot.
Gripping tightly at the straps of your backpack as your eyes met the cold floor, blotted with differing size of shoes. You muster the strength to lift your head, where beyond you witness—the hymns of the cherry blossom in the courtyard reaches the space, serving as a visual instrumentation to this pretend play; set of movements controlled and navigated by the game's mechanisms.
And there he was as expected.
Across the classroom, beside the window—you could see Nishimura Ri-ki gazing out the vast field with pure concentration.
You made your way to your seat where it is highlighted by pink flurry lights.
Pulling the chair back, you seated yourself down. A wave of uncertainty washes over your soul now that you had the complete view of this classroom. You look beside you when you felt eyes drilling a hole on your head, only to see the boy staring at you down with an uninterested look, or rather an expression you were unable to read. Not caring any less by the obvious fact that he was caught.
"What are you looking at?" You asked, puzzled by the boy's deepened stare, striking a chord in your soul.
"As if I'm looking at you." Ri-ki mumbles, chin buried on his palms.
Taken aback by his lack of manners, you scoffed in disbelief. "E-excuse me?"
He rips his gaze on your frame, yawning as he stretches—deeply confusing you of this new set of movements and dialogues. It appalled you further when he just stood up, leaving as if nothing happened at all.
"Hey!" You called out, but he went on simply ignoring you.
You frowned at his lack of manners, but well it is to be expected as he is the youngest among the yanderes, he'd been in the same class as you since you started the game. Yet you've never got the chance to approach him as there were no dialogues option. He was a close off, deep in his world type of teenager. You could only see him around his members, and mostly Jake.
That's why it surprises you that he talks for the first time.
Or rather that he was surprisingly rude.
You'd forgotten a huge portion of information related to him due to his profile being situated in the very bottom, but he's supposedly attending the Drama Club but dropped out of it after skipping the club activities for nearly two weeks.
So.. everything functions like how it would in the real world, except for their repeated codes and routines. You'd thought that they would act like NPCs in the first place like the ones back in your home but you were proven otherwise, because they were not here yet.
The students in this classroom are.
You no longer have to press buttons, and all those generic options to gain social and reputation points. You would no longer need to approach them first to talk with the.
But for some reason, that words that didn't even amount to a proper conversation stirs something in you. It affected you. Because it felt too real. Almost like you were back in the real world seconds ago. But how is that even possible when you already knew why this virtual world ceases to exist.
Why it existed in the first place.
You held your composure as you seated yourself in the back of this classroom, with everything to bathe in your line of vision. A perfect audience seat to witness this orchestration of parody, of theatre, of life—surrounded with noises, yet it's so hollow.
The word "weird" is not the right word to describe your feeling right now. It was as if you were existing in-between space and time. A world that is in-between.
You don't belong here, yet at the same time, you do. You are alone, but you are not exactly alone.
Biting your lip, you clenched a fistful of your skirt as you lowered your head down, shutting your eyes tight.
➤ .. WHY DID YOU CHOOSE THIS GAME?
Appalled by its question, you remained silent---in which it lets out a robotic giggle paired with what you assumed to be a kaomoji.
➤ .. DON'T BE SHY! THERE'S NO SHAME IN DESIRING TO BE LOVED. TO BE THIRSTED FOR, AND TO BE CARED FOR, DON'T ALL WE? ➤ .. YOU PLAYED THIS GAME KNOWING WHAT ITS BASED ON, BUT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THIS GAME WORKS?
"Quit messing with me." You spat out.
➤ .. ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. YOU GUESS IT! WHAT MAKES A HUMAN, A HUMAN. WHAT MAKES THEM ALIVE. WHAT MAKES THEM, THEM; THEIR PSYCHE. ➤ .. SHALL A PLAYER LOSE; A FRAGMENT OF THEIR PSYCHE IS APPLIED IN THE GAME WHICH IN TURN MORPHS INTO A NEW FEATURE IN THE GAME. ➤ .. THE SHELL, WHICH IS THEIR BODY---IS UP TO ME TO DECIDE WHAT I'D LIKE TO DO WITH IT. ➤ .. ABSORPTION AS I CALL IT, YOU HUMANS CALLS IT 'UPDATE'!
"Ab-absorption?" As you read along the lines, something leaks out from behind your ribs. "Are you saying that there were.. p-people before me?"
➤ .. VERY SMART, MY DARLING. YES, EVERY SOUL IS SPECIAL AND UNIQUE, ➤ .. THEY BRING A WHOLE NEW FLAVOR TO THE GAME. WHAT THE GAME MAY TAKE, IT WILL DO SO ACCORDINGLY WITH THE HEART OF THE HOST. THE HEART DECIDES. ➤ .. ANY PSYCHE; LIGHT OR DARK; WHATEVER HAS THE MOST IMPACT IN THEIR SOUL ARE PULLED INTO THIS GAME. THEREFORE YOU CAN SAY, EACH PLAYER INFLUENCES THE GAME. ➤ .. YOU CAN CALL IT, THE PROOF OF THEIR LIFE. EMOTIONS, THEY'RE THE ONLY THING THAT IS ETERNAL AND IMMORTAL.
"Shoot!"
Students bursts into a fit of laughter, playing a silly game before class.
A groan surfaces.
"Guys, stop being so noisy. I'm trying to concentrate here!"
"Concentrate, on what? Exams?"
A round of giggles followed after.
Clawing your fingers over your head as you try to push off all these sounds, all these meaningless conversations. You knew this set of dialogues will be repeated again, again and again. Noises that don't held any thing in them.
A subtle knock echoed amidst the petty ordeals, capturing the classroom's concentration out of whatever they were currently at.
Numerous sets of eyes fell on the fragile and tiny frame of a girl with a bandana wrapped around her head, as she carries a tray full of baked muffins; a familiar image of a member of the cooking club.
"Hey, anyone wanna taste some muffins I made?"
A round of cheers and bouts of exclaimed hungers send shivers down your spine. You watched as each of them took their turns, taking the muffin from the tray.
"Hey,"
With heavy eyes, you met hers that was wholly empty, like looking into a deepest depths of a well, wondering if you'll ever capture something in motion, only to be greeted with somber reality that there was not.
"Want one?" Hair dripping in jet black, tied up in a half updo bun. Those words floated out of her faint pink lips that had subtle bite marks on them, it seems old and scarred. A gentle voice that complements her soft features. "Been trying to perfect this recipe, can you give me your feedback after you tasted it?"
Perfect.. perfect what?
You suppressed the need to scoff, instead forcing a painful smile as you took the muffin from the tray. "Thanks."
"Hanni! It tastes so good!"
"Oh my god, really? I'm so glad!"
All these faces.. This sheer size of the game, the fact that they were all here, meant that no one has ever truly won this game.
➤ .. THAT ..WILL BE YOUR ENDING IF YOU LOSE, WHEN YOU FAIL—THEY WILL, TOO END UP HERE WITH YOU. ➤ .. ISN'T IT LOVELY? ➤ .. BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER THEY SAY, YET THIS EMOTION CALLED 'AFFECTION' IS A LOT MORE STRONGER. YOUR AFFECTION FOR THEM IS THE REASON THEY'RE ABLE TO BE REPLICATED IN THE FIRST PLACE. I DON'T SEE WHAT'S THE PROBLEM THOUGH, ATLEAST YOU'LL BE WITH YOUR FAMILY! ➤ .. WON'T THAT STILL BE A HAPPY ENDING FOR YOU?
How is that a happy ending? You couldn't utter that one question. How is any of these a happy ending?
You laughed. A short yet broken one, with your eyes getting blotted with swirls. Sucking your lips in as you tried to understand it, yet your eyes mirrors your thoughts; pacing round and round. You don't even know where to begin. What even is this madness? It's insane. Terribly insane.
So, all this time.. You were playing a game made out of real people? Real people who used to live?
A stupid, stupid game you once found imminent solace in, are nothing but a mass graveyard. You could at least stand it a bit more if you weren't walking alongside with people that used to live. But no.
No wonder why this world is so vast.
Even that word is an understatement. A virtual world you could spend all your day in it. No. It's a stage, a dollhouse where the audience is also its mastermind, with strings attached on the puppets—ripping, tweaking, weaving, piecing together into an amalgamation of their desired character.
Those missing people plastered on posters all round the alleyways and all else, with a trace nowhere to be seen, as if they never existed in the first place. You've wondered if perhaps this is where they've fallen into. Some of them.
You wonder how each of them met their end? All of them must have failed in numerous ways, but one thing is clear; they lose and that's what leads them to their current state—once a fallen player, their existence will be wiped out..
From everything they've ever been, subjected to a monstrous aftermath.
A monster that preys and feeds on people's desires. A monster that rewrites new scenarios, events, and all sorts accordingly every time someone falls in and loses—then it makes perfectly sense, absorbing the players in it keeps the game alive.
How cruel.
You shook your head, breaking your brain in half trying to search for a way. "I'll play! Just please, don't put my family into this!"
➤ .. THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS, MY DARLING. THE ONLY WAY FOR THEM TO AVOID GETTING SUCK IN HERE WITH YOU IS FOR YOU TO 'UNLOVE' THEM. ➤ .. WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO DO THAT?
Your head fell down in agony. There's no way you could do that. That is beyond reality. You don't fell out love with someone in just a day, do you?
➤ .. NO RIGHT? ➤ .. WHY'D YOU THINK YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND WAS ABLE TO BE REPLICATED IN THE FIRST PLACE?
➤ .. THAT'S VERY WELL THE REASON WHY THIS GAME WILL REMAIN IMMORTAL WITH ITS HOSTS' ETERNAL SOULS. ➤ .. NOTHING IS ETERNAL BUT A HUMAN'S SOUL. WHY'D YOU THINK A MERE OBJECT COULD HOLD CURSES AND PROMISES? FEELINGS IMMORTALIZED EVERYTHING. ➤ .. HUMAN NATURE IS SO COMPLEX AND STRONG, YET SO FRAGILE. IT LEAKS OUT WHEN ITS BROKEN. SO LONG AS HUMANS BEAR THESE FORCES, NOTHING WILL EVER FLOATS AWAY. ISN'T THAT FASCINATING?
"Wait," You lifted your eyes from the floor, gulping down. "How about the yanderes themselves? W-were they once real people too?"
Its pink shade glowed and dimmed down.
➤ .. WHO KNOWS? ➤ .. WHAT DO YOU THINK? ➤ .. THAT IS FOR YOU TO KNOW WHEN YOU SUCCEEDED.
There it goes again. Playing with you.
"Then how do I win?" The question came out dry, filled with nothing but helplessness.
➤ .. YOU KNOW VERY WELL THE ANSWER YOURSELF, DARLING. IT'S SIMPLE. ➤ .. JUST MAKE SURE YOU GET TO BE THE ONE TO TIGHTEN HIS HEART STRINGS, AND NO ONE ELSE. ➤ .. AND THAT IS TO ELIMINATE ALL THOSE OBSTACLES THAT STRIVES TO BE THE APPLE OF HIS EYES. ➤ .. YOU MUST BE IT INSTEAD. ➤ .. AND YOU DO KNOW WHAT IT TAKES TO ACHIEVE THAT, RIGHT?
Right, it's very simple it's almost hilarious. You'll end up just like any side character if you fail to become the yandere's darling.
The law of attraction. You attract what you desire. Yet often times, you received it in the most twisted forms presented by life.
If you want to live, you have to make sure he falls for you and no one else.
These yanderes are unable to discern between genders. Male or female, any breathing living being is a threat in their love-sick perspective. The mere, mere you are perceived in this light where just being close with their darling regardless of proximity and labels—is as easy as labelling you a sore thumb or better yet a pest that latches to what they deemed as theirs.
Because to them, who the fuck do you think you are? You don't even deserve to breath the same air or step in the same ground as their darling. Absurd. But to them, their darling is the source of their oxygen. Taking away what gets them going is the same as murdering them. That's basically refusing them their human rights, you know?
So if you don't get that—then in their eyes, you're better off dead because you don't deserve it either.
They adorned this bright smile around everyone, being friendly and welcoming but beneath that facade was a seething intricate web of lies and manipulation, waiting to strike. If you were too dumb to notice or deduce all the signs, then it will only be by the end of the day, when the sun has set, when it's the moonlight's turn to conquer—will you only then know, that you've dug the path to your grave.
A creature governed by heart, molded by its whims and beats. Turning into a recipe for disaster.
Exhilarating, you're drawn to this very concept ever since. However, even when you've wish for this beings to exist, prayed for them even. It was never in your wildest dreams that you'd be stuck in a game with one.
➤ .. ANY INQUIRIES, YOU MAY CHECK YOUR FLIP PHONE. IT CONTAINS EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW LIKE A HANDBOOK."
You fished out the object in question from your pockets, the flip phone back in the morning—it remains heavy on your palms despite its lightweight material, as it bears your life—containing everything.
Inside this, you are able to check everything that is necessary for you to know; tasks, favors, schedule, inventory, etc. The date is set in the year 2026, yet the phones they used were from twenty years ago—a world where social media hasn't reached its peak yet.
It's a world that stood in the midst of everything.
➤ .. FLIP PHONES WAS NOT A MAJOR FEATURE UNTIL ONE PLAYER WHO HAD AN OBSESSION WITH IT, FAIL. FASCINATING, ISN'T?
A world that is centered around its players' psyche. Then what will your existence bring into this game?
Only time could tell.
➤ .. GOOD LUCK!
Survive.
Yes. That's all I have to do.
The moment you lose everything that is you, you will be nothing but a part of the long lost souls in this deserted land of twisted roleplay game.
You just have to get through it. Make sure not to fail this time. Make him fall for you and not anyone else.
And him. Jungwon. You have to meet him soon. However you can't rush, one wrong move like you did will cost everything
There's one thing you have to consider though—your reputation; forget about getting close to Jungwon, your reputation meter itself is the second most important to your existence here as without it, you're but a burden to the society. The black sheep. You're basically nonexistent here.
All because of that choices and dialogues you've chosen so far in the game, you've set yourself up for failure. The pointer at your meter bar are hovering over the black section. You are left exactly of where you last played last night. The stakes are exceedingly high, dimming down every chance of light to come down your way.
You were already lucky enough to not have your progress reset, however that meant nothing but being perceived as one of Jungwon's rejected love confessions. A girl that has lose his favor. You'd have to find a way somehow to regain your reputation back and most importantly, his heart.
Pretend play, just like playhouse.
Your eyes lingered beyond the window, observing how the petals floated down. But how and where do you even begin? If you recalled it correctly; apart from attending classes, Jungwon's routine consists of hanging around with his friends, spend his alone time in the courtyard, attend his club practices, and then catch up with his friends outside the school's entrance after school. It won't be long till a girl comes around and sandwich herself into his life.
You cannot waste anymore time.
He must be roaming around the academy as of now, most certainly hanging around with his friends. The first period would be done about an hour from now, and he'd be occupied with his routine as well too.
But how the heck do you even approach him again? It would be so awkward and weird in his perspective when a girl he rejected, acts all lovey-dovey, and shameless at that. You might be even labelled as a weirdo, not knowing her boundaries despite being rejected.
Somehow, someway.. You would eventually have to resort to such methods. As much as you loathe the very word, they can either be your obstacles or you an turn them into your weapon. But can you even find the heart to do so? No, that's not the right question, are you even capable of doing that?
Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps approaching from the distance, revealing a girl with shock illustrated all over her visage.
"Oh my god, guys! This is insane! You have to see this! There's a love confession happening in the courtyard and it's no one other than Yang Jungwon!"
She almost lose her footing as she relayed the message with downright glee, only for a multitude of questions and profanities to rose up in response.
"What?! Who is it?"
"Eh, who?"
"Wait, what?" It came out as a soft whisper, yet a stark contrast of your terror-filled eyes widening, an ear-wrenching creak from your chair emitted because of how you stood up so quickly, following after them.
What do you mean, a love confession?! I haven't even started yet!
The halls quake immensely like soldiers in their training, seas of shoes slammed against the floor all while multitude of questions arose in your head, where the words spilling out of the students' lips running alongside you only amplified your perennial dread.
Please, please, do not accept it! Please-
You let out harsh yelp when you suddenly collided against someone in full-force, forcing you to fall on your back. Your face scrunched at the throbbing pain in your muscles, clutching your back with greeted teeth. A series of grunts and hisses are layered on top of yours—cussing about how you should watch your steps. Your eyes shoot open, turning your head beside you—only to be met with another member of the Yanderes.
Park Sunghoon. The side of his face planted on the floor, whilst his books and assignment papers scattered about in a mess.
Horror engulfed your features, immediately pushing yourself up. Apologizing profusely as you collected the books and the papers, gathering them in your arms, rearranging them back neatly.
The boy slowly sat up with disheveled hair, lifting his head up with grim expression and narrowed eyes behind those glasses—specifically directed at you. Getting up on his knees, he dusted his pants with a hiss all while fixing his vest back.
"I see that you have eyes just like everyone else," Sunghoon leans forward, an intimidating aura emitting from him causing you to step backwards. "Atleast watch where you're going?"
His lips twisted in a sneer as he spoke, clearly showing you that he is not at all impressed by your clumsy mistake.
"I-I'm sorry—" You stammered, your eyes trembles as it met his brown ones, despite being obscured by the faint lens, it was immensely vivid; swirling in the sands of the sizzling dessert, fiery and intense—you could feel it scorching in your skin, a stark contrast from his icy skin.
So close, you could examine his features decorated with moles, and down at his faint red lips. He did not say anything, yet those blazing pupils examined your features as if it was searching for something.
This is not good. A potential yandere. You don't know why, but you had this inkling creeping inside you that you shouldn't associate yourself with other yanderes except for Jungwon.
"Kid," Leaning away, he let outs a 'tsk' with a frown, perching up the rims of his glasses neatly on the bridge of his nose before snatching his stuffs from your arms, using his other hand to gesture towards his eyes. "Next time, use your eyes more."
Finishing it up by shooting you a glare, and then heading off. You stood there in bewilderment as his silhouette faded in the distance, wondering what had just happened.
Yet you let out a relief exhale.
Park Sunghoon. What was it about him again? The generic description of him being an icy prince bounces back in your head, turning on a beaming lightbulb. Despite being labelled as that, he attends the Cooking Club much to everyone's surprise, together with his fellow member Jay.
The two of them often spent the afterhours experimenting with recipes, forcing their fellow members to taste the dishes they made. It was returned with a slight acknowledgement from Heeseung, commenting that it's not bad, followed by a couple of nods from rest. However you recalled how your stomach aches during a bout of laughter when Jungwon almost choked after—
Wait! You snapped your head behind you, the love confession!
Sprinting to the location where many other students gathered in front of the window shoulder-to-shoulder.
The glass panes of the academy were filled up to the brim, spilling with faces illustrated with variety of expressions; intrigue, interest, disbelief, and envy—all pushing their heads out to get a much better view of the courtyard. The entire commotion echoing the morbid chaos of Baroque paintings.
Yours was illustrated with an invisible weight of a noose looped around your neck. An invisible weight of stones slamming against your face as you halted your steps, nearing the edge of the window.
Like an auditorium with their utmost concentration glued on the stage; a theatre play of a romantic tale, an union of two hearts yet its nothing but a masquerade of your eventual execution.
As beyond that window, a girl you've never seen stood before him. Propelling your eyes to rattle in immense storm, your heart sailing in amidst the raging crimson ocean.
W-where the fuck did she even came from?
It should've been you.
It should've been you beside him—
Your face stiffened, a gasp caught in the back of your throat as your lips fell apart in inches. Everything slowed down except him; everyone, that girl, and you.
This heart behind your ribcage palpitates in a different motion; striking a chord that pounded your veins, till it submerged your eardrums in its frenzied rush. The desire to let yourself fall in his arms grew immense.
Your pupils snapping and panning closer akin to a camera lens, searching deeper for the features that spells your purpose for life. Closer. You couldn't make out the outline of his face. Trying one more time, blinking frantically as the rims of your eyes tears up.
There he was, standing in the courtyard—Yang Jungwon under the the cherry blossom tree, where the dropping petals adorned his visage, bringing in the saccharine touch of life. Exuding sheer perfection, captivating the audience's heart.
This charming aura he carries, laid-back demeanor, the way his fringe sways alike silk with the hush of the spring breeze. It's all too exhilarating. Heartstrings looped around your poor heart. Moonstruck. It propels your eyes to shy away like the moon does.
Chaos.
You wince at the sudden increase of volume reaching your ears, clutching your ears as you yelp with your eyes shut tight.
This trance-like spell, you snapped out of it with terror. Noticing the rosy tint that engulfs your vision whenever it fell on him. This entire landscape bathing in saccharine pink. The rhythm of your heart mimicking his breathing patterns, it aches. How your eyes swell into love-sick hearts against the window's reflection. It perturbed your soul.
What the fuck. This isn't you.
A fatal trouble, you're truly deep into it.
It felt like your face were being pushed into a well against your will.
It must be the game mechanism turning you this way—to be thrown into the same state as the game character you were playing, it sends chills down your spine. You slapped yourself to reality. He isn't real.
"What is she doing?"
"Is that Minji?"
Your ears caught on to the name spilling out of numerous arrays of lips.
That girl, Kim Minji. Enunciating the name on the tip of your tongue, it prompted your head to tilt sideways in confusion. You've never heard or encounter this character in the game before, or perhaps you've miss her existence by not bothering to check the entire NPCs' list.
But..
You were given a second chance to play one more time, so why is there another girl here..? This game functions on love confession, and who ever the girl is—if its accepted by your chosen yandere—then she won.
It will be game over.
However you were dead sure, today wasn't Friday yet. Fishing out your flip phone from your pockets, you flicked it open—eyes widening in fear as the date displays the third day of the week, Wednesday. Two days before the supposed deadline.
"Jungwon, I like you!"
The three words you've been dreading she had uttered.
She immediately shut her eyes tight with her cheeks illustrated with the deep hues of a blossoming rose, eyebrows knitted together, gripping her skirt into shambles within her digits.
Your knuckles involuntarily clenched on the edge of the window.
A series of gasps and murmurs emitted in unison, forming a rather comical orchestration. Some finds it utterly hilarious, leaning into their friend's ears—uttering about how Jungwon would never find her interesting and that her confession was all too vain. There are plenty of interesting faces dripped in the finest wines in the seas of cherry blossoms, far more suitable and deserving of his love, so how could she—a mere girl—are able to catch his interest?
Your lips fell slightly apart, not being able to process the words you're hearing right now as that girl is what you definitely would not call 'mere'. Hush whispers and gossips followed through, one after another, refusing to fleet into nothingness—as it was stuck in the heavy pungent jealousy, tied even tighter with woven prayers for Jungwon to reject her.
They kept chanting; a fool. She's a fool. A fool is all she is. A love confession in the courtyard, for everyone to see. She's setting herself up as the object of amusement, a clown of the year.
This game is truly twisted.
Silence eventually befalls as everyone waited in patience, ribs swelling down with the amount of breathe they took in their lungs, anticipating for Jungwon's answer.
The boy opens his mouth, his expressions unreadable. The tension heavy in weight, with everyone paralyzed and stuck between the two answers. Lips are sewn tight. Wishes differ. Yet those four words bears the flame to your torch of life.
If he.. if Yang Jungwon says yes to this love confession, you're gone for good. Vapored away. Spelling the end of your existence.
Please. Prayers shrouded your mind.
Please don't accept it.
I haven't even started yet!
His outstretched palms reached for the girl's, "I like you too, Minji." Jungwon pulls a shy smile, an affectionate gaze swirling in his eyes.
The girl in question, were filled with aghast, her eyes swimming in bliss as she covered her mouth with her hands.
It was as if time had stopped.
His response elicited a spur of tumultuous reactions from every single student present in the academy; one helping out their passed out friend, with one choking on their sandwich, and the other with their jaw dropped on the ground—while you, are having flashes of your death and your family's tragic end; the scene of you lying down in a pool of blood, while the members of your family falling down into the game—where all of you will eventually lose your consciousness—memories and identities vanishing from the world as if you didn't exist at all.
T-this can't be happening. You shook your head in denial.
Your line of vision drowning into the distant sea, morphing into a crashing storm. Swallowing a sore lump down your throat, you gripped the window's edge, fingers rattling as you watched the entire ordeal playing out.
A portrayal of parody.
It's hopeless. You are going to die.
These rampant thoughts piled up one after another in your head, clouding you with sporadic paranoia as your feet turned outwards, walking away, slowly accelerating in speed—hugging yourself as you choke up on your tears.
XO ! iii. PERSONA
You're done for.
Hiding in the storage room, curling yourself down as you covered your head with your hands. With a thousand apologies to your family all while waiting for death to come and get you. You lamented the day you ever came to found this game.
A pink glow of light illuminated the soles of your feet, turning the space into a well-lit theatre—with you as the main spotlight.
➤ .. WHAT'S WITH ALL THAT FACE?
"I lose." With a hoarse voice and tears dried, you look down your palms---observing its deepened etches. "It's game over."
➤ ..GAME OVER? WHO SAYS? ➤ .. YOU KNOW YOU STILL CAN GET HIM.
"What do you mean I can? He already accepted it! Wasn't that the point?"
➤ .. ACCEPTED WHAT? THE LOVE CONFESSION? THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING, A GIRLFRIEND IS ALL SHE IS ➤ .. NOT HIS DARLING.
"H-huh?"
➤ .. HIS EYES.. A LOOK OF FONDNESS IS ALL HE HAD FOR THAT GIRL, NOT THE LOOK OF OBSESSION. HIS LOVE METER HAVEN'T EVOLVED INTO WHAT WE CALL A YANDERE METER. THEIR RELATIONSHIP HAD JUST STARTED IN LESS THAN 40 MINUTES. ➤ .. THAT'S WHY YOU HAVE TO GET HIM BACK, AS QUICK AS YOU CAN, BEFORE HE FALL DEEPER. BECAUSE IF HE DOES, DEPENDING ON THE ROUTES YOU TAKE, YOU MIGHT BE UNFORTUNATE TO UNLOCK THE ENDING WHERE YOU ARE MURDERED BY THE YANDERE HIMSELF.
"Get him back? How am I supposed to do that?" How is he supposed to look at you now that he already had a lover, whom he'd rather spend time with? Even if he hasn't turn into a yandere yet, that doesn't make anything easier.
Both paths remains bleak, filled with razor-sharp spikes protruded ahead.
➤ .. WHATEVER YOU MAY CHOOSE TO GO WITH; RUIN HER REPUTATION BY SPREADING RUMOURS, THAT WOULD DO THE TRICK BY GETTING JUNGWON WARY OF HER. BUT ITS QUITE A HASSLE, AND DOESN'T DO YOU AY GOOD AS YOUR REPUTATION IS NOT THE VERY LEAST INTERESTING TO LOOK AT.
You obviously can't.
Gossiping is a deal-breaker. You might've accomplished your goal by tainting her reputation but the price in return accost you in the end. It doesn't benefit you at all as you will be labelled as the 'gossiper'.
➤ .. MAYBE YOU COULD GET HER EXPELLED, BY PUTTING FORBIDDEN STUFFS IN HER BOOKBAG. BUT THAT'S RATHER RISKY? THERE ARE COUNTLESS OF METHODS, YOU CHOOSE.
You remain silent, shaky pupils boring a hole on your hands as you weighed the risks. The receiver of the greater risk is always you. A single mistake costs everything.
➤ .. THEN YOU CAN KILL HER.
Your eyes widened. "No.." Your head shook on its own. "I c-can't do that."
➤ .. WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH IT? ➤ ..IF YOU WANT TO PLAY IT SAFE, PERHAPS GET SOME RAT POISON FROM THE MARKET. SHE WILL BE GONE BEFORE YOU KNEW IT. IT WOULD BE A SPECTACLE, A SIGHT, EVEN!
"I. Will. Not. Kill. Her."
You emphasized, stressing each single word, showing your resolute determination.
There's no way you'd stoop down that low.
Its suggestion was beyond your capability of understanding, nor was it an acceptable one in the first place. You've failed to comprehend how it can utter such chilling topic in such a leisure manner.
And there was no way you could ever bring yourself to witness them relive death for the second time.
➤ .. HUH? WHO CARES? THEY'RE ALREADY GONE, WHAT'S ALL THAT REMORSEFUL LOOK FOR?
It just doesn't feel right. It doesn't sit well with you.
Who were they before they fell into this game?
What did they do?
What did they love to do?
What were their last words before they were gone?
It imbued your insides with a heavy weight, driven with guilt to think of these people with lives they used to hold that was now nothing but an empty hollow shell. Their flesh and skin used as a mere toy.
They aren't just people to you. People aren't static objects. They're beings.
Everywhere you look; all you could see was people that once a life worth of memories before, now sucked up and absorbed as nothing but a code of repetition, and the proof of them living now but a feature that glares against your face.
They're now a burning memory.
➤ .. THIS IS WHAT THE GAME IS FOR, YOU'D THINK YOU STILL HAD YOUR MORALITY INTACT? YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE MUCH FOR THEM WHEN YOU GO ON A KILL STREAK THAT DAY?
"That doesn't count!" You exclaimed, gritting your teeth. "I never knew they were real people—like who would have think so?"
➤ .. BUT YOU ENJOYED IT. ➤ .. I'VE NOT YET FORGOTTEN HOW YOUR EYES LOOKS LIKE THAT DAY.
Hissing with desperation, you looked down on your splayed hands.
"No.. It was never supposed to be like this." You shook your head, "The game doesn't even work this way, I was suppose to get him before the love confession, two days before Friday! What did you change?!"
➤ .. DON'T YOU GET IT? ➤ .. YOU'VE FAILED ONCE. I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR PROGRESS BEING RESET, DARLING. THIS WAS AFTER YOUR 'GAME OVER'. ➤ .. IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR SOUL, YOU ARE GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE TO REDEEM YOURSELF BEHIND THE SCENES. ➤ .. WITH HIGHER STAKES, OF COURSE.
Tears begin to spill from your eyes, "No. . I can't win this way."
Lips trembling as you say so, memories from the past rushing back and flooding your insides with a heavy weight.
Higher stakes? For what? All you wanted was to play. To get into your little fantasy world, devoid of stress. The world was already too far from perfect. With this fucked up corporate life, filled with capitalism, never-ending bills---at this point, you're only surviving through all of it, not living.
But have you been really living all this time?
Everything else in the world has far more worst things that happened to them than you do. But with this small void in your heart, it shouldn't be wrong to be embrace by a little warmth, someone to cup your cheeks in their hands as they press a tender kiss on your forehead, right?
It shouldn't be wrong to indulge yourself in your little silly fantasies. So why?
➤ .. SPARE YOURSELF FROM THE ILLUSION OF GAIN WITHOUT SACRIFICE, MY DARLING.
Nothing is truly free.
This world has always given you an illusion of choice but the thing is, nothing is really free. You may have given something in an exchange for nothing, but life will soon claim it in numerous ways and various forms you could never imagine.
➤ .. OH COME ON NOW! ➤ .. AIN'T THIS A ONE LIFETIME CHANCE FOR YOU? ➤ .. YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH MURDER UNLIKE IN THE REAL WORLD!
"That isn't right." Your head drops down in downright despair. "J-just.. just kill me, I can't do this. Your fucking twisted game.."
➤ .. OH DARLING.. WHY BOTHER ABOUT SOME PETTY LIVES BUT YOUR LOVED ONES? ➤ .. WHO WOULD YOU CHOOSE, A STRANGER WHOSE LIFE NO LONGER EXISTS OR YOUR FAMILY WHO STILL HAVE THEIR WHOLE LIVES BEFORE THEM?
You stiffened. How? How did you actually forgot, how can you forget? Your family.. All these emotional outbursts has rendered you totally hopeless to the point you forgot for a split second that you're not the only one at the stake.
"I will not kill her! I'll find a way.." You clasped your head, desperately trying to think of a better option. "There's got to be some way... Right! The match-making method!"
➤ .. HOW FASCINATING.. ➤ .. YOUR MORALS ARE STILL QUITE INTACT DESPITE HAVING YOUR MENTAL PSYCHE SLOWLY REGRESSING.
What? You lifted your head back up, sniffing and gasping. "What are you saying? R-regressed.. w-what?"
➤ .. WELL, I'M CERTAIN THAT YOU'VE NOTICE SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH YOU?
You remained silent. Yet as your eyes fell on each word it typed out next, it widens in terror.
➤ .. YOUR YOUTHFUL LOOKS.. ARE NOT THE ONLY THING THAT RETURNED, YOUR MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL PSYCHE AS WELL. IN OTHER WORDS, MENTAL REGRESSION. ➤ .. YOU KNOW THE SAYINGS, YOU MAY BE EIGHTY, NINETY, BUT INSIDE YOU'RE STILL THE SAME. ➤ .. I TOLD YOU, DIDN'T I? YOU AIN'T A FULL-FLEDGED ADULT YET.
"You!" Pushing yourself upwards, gritting your teeth.. "What else you didn't tell me about?! You wanted me-" Pointing at yourself harshly. "To play your game yet you're treating your own player like this?"
➤ .. THERE'S NO FUN IN TELLING YOU EVERYTHING AT ONCE. WHAT'S A GAME FOR IF NOT FOR THAT SOLE PURPOSE? ➤ .. YOU FIGURE OUT EVERY SINGLE THING YOURSELF. WHAT AM I, IF NOT A LITTLE POP-UP TO GUIDE YOU ONCE IN AWHILE. ➤ .. THE REST IS UP TO YOUR WITS AND ABILITIES TO SURVIVE.
"What else didn't you tell me then?!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, clenching your fists tight. "Tell me now!"
➤ .. OH DARLING, NOW THAT'S WHAT I LOVE! ALRIGHT, THEN. ➤ .. DO YOU KNOW.. YOU MAY DO AS YOU WANT YET YOU HAVE TO HURRY. ➤ .. BECAUSE YOUR SOUL WON'T WITHSTAND STAYING IN THIS WORLD ANY LONGER.
"W-what do you mean?"
➤ .. RIGHT! I'VE ONLY TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN AFTER YOU LOSE, THE FINAL PHASE OF ABSORPTION. ➤ .. NOT ABOUT THE FIRST PHASE.. YET, THE PROCESS OF ABSORPTION.
The terror swirling inside the pit of your stomach grew tenfold. First phase..?
➤ .. ARE YOU SCARED? DON'T BE! I THOUGHT I'D SPARE YOU FROM THIS KNOWLEDGE A LITTLE BIT LONGER, YET THIS VIGOR OF YOURS INTRIGUES ME. ➤ .. YOU KNOW, ABSORPTION DOESN'T START THE MOMENT YOU FAIL. IT STARTED THE MOMENT YOU'VE ACCEPTED MY INVITATION. ➤ .. YOU CLAIMED YOU DON'T WANT TO KILL, YET DARLING, THAT'S FAR FROM THE TRUTH. YOU'VE ALREADY DONE IT ONCE. ➤ .. BECAUSE THE SKIN IN WHICH YOU WERE PLAYING ALL THIS TIME, THE 'YOU' THAT LOSE LAST NIGHT IS ONE OF THE FALLEN PLAYERS' SKIN. BY ACCEPTING MY INVITATION FOR A SECOND CHANCE, A SECOND TRY. YOU'VE AGREED TO USE YOUR OWN SKIN, REMEMBER? ➤ .. THEREFORE IN THAT VERY MOMENT, IT HAD BEGUN.
Every single word it types out struck you deeper and deeper.
➤ .. AND NOW, YOU'D THINK THAT YOU ARE STILL YOU. WELL YES, IN FACT, YOU STILL ARE. ➤ .. BUT THE FIRST PHASE IS.. HOW CAN I SAY? IT BEGINS.. WITH YOUR YOUTH SLOWLY AND AND GRADUALLY RETURNING BACK. ➤ .. YOU'LL LOOK MORE YOUNGER WITH EACH DAY. ➤ .. AND THEN YOUR SOUL WILL START REGRESSING TO THE VERY MOMENT YOU EXPERIENCE THE PEAK OF EMOTION; JOY, BLISS, LOVE, WRATH.. THE POINT OF LIFE WHERE IT HAS IMPACTED YOU THE MOST. YOU WILL FIND YOUR MEMORIES FROM THAT POINT GROWING MORE VIVID AS IT WAS YOUR FIRST TIME TO EXPERIENCE IT. ➤ .. IN A SENSE, THE YOU FROM THAT PARTICULAR POINT WILL RETURN. ISN'T THAT FUN?
"Are you s-saying," Stuttering, struggling to form coherent words according to what you just read. "T-that everyone," You paused, engulfed with disbelief. "—around here.. was stuck in a particular age?"
➤ .. CORRECT! ITS THE AGE WHERE THEY FEEL THE MOST INTENSE EMOTIONS FOR THE FIRST TIME. ➤ .. KIND OF LIKE, TIME TRAVELLING BUT A LITTLE DIFFERENT!
Your lips fell apart.
Everyone here.. are the manifestation of when their psyche receives the most impact. As if getting absorbed here wasn't enough. They even had to suffer?
➤ .. BUT IT DOESN'T END THERE.
It twirls around, with its pinkness glowing brighter in shade every passing second. It leans closer, looking down at you.
➤ .. TO RETURN TO THE REAL WORLD. YOU WILL HAVE TO CONQUER THE WHIMS OF YOUR CHOSEN ONE'S ➤ .. HOWEVER, THE LONGER YOU TAKE TO WIN HIS HEART. ➤ .. THE MORE YOUR BODY AND SOUL WILL ROT.
"What do you mean by r-rot? In what way.. will I rot?" You stammered, suffocated by the entire revelation.
It beams up so bright it strains your eyes.
➤ ..THE MOMENT IT STOPS RIGHT WHERE YOUR PSYCHE EXACTLY ARE, WHERE IT REMAINS. ➤ .. YOU WILL START TO ROT.. IN A WAY YOU FEAR THE MOST. YOUR FEARS MANIFESTING AND DEVOURING YOU ALMOST LITERALLY! YOU MAY WONDER WHY? HUMANS ROT WHEN THEIR EMOTIONS ARE AMPLIFIED INTO A VOLUME THAT RENDERED THEM UNABLE TO THINK. ➤ .. ISN'T IT FASCINATING? EACH SOUL TRULY HAS ITS UNIQUE FLAVOR, REMEMBER? AND THATS WHAT MAKES EVERY SOUL A FREAK SHOW TO WITNESS!
Sheer terror illuminated your pupils, sucking out each hope of ever returning to the real world.
You could feel it—shreds of your remaining sanity slipping away.
➤ .. THE CODES FEEDS ON HUMAN'S FRAGILITY, MIMICKING ITS COMPLEXITY ALL WHILE ABSORBING ITS HOST AS A PART OF IT. ROLLING OUT FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENT! ➤ .. THAT IS THE FINAL PHASE. ➤ .. BY THEN, IT IS MY CHOICE WHETHER TO TURN YOU INTO ONE OF MY PAWNS, OR DISCARD YOU. I CAN EITHER TURN THE FALLEN PLAYERS INTO THE NPCS YOU SEE EVERYDAY, LIKE A DOLL! OR INTO THE COLLECTIONS OF SKIN FOR PLAYERS IN THE REAL WORLD TO PLAY. ➤ ..DO YOU GET IT NOW?
No, I don't get it.
You sat there, staring off into the space, chanting that sentence in your head all while dealing with the horrifying fact that your life truly no longer belongs to you. Paralyzed in downright fear.
Tangled in this predicament, called hell.
Not a single reaction surfaces from your face. Your head drops down like a hand stitched doll with its neck ripped in half, showcasing an image of its head supported by a snapping piece of thread. Met with the sight of your shoes, you would really never be able to return home, do you?
"Why.." You mumbled in a low voice.
"I don't get it." Getting up on your knees, filled with despair. The suffocating pain inside you contorts into madness, exploding you finally did. "W-why are you doing this to me?!"
You bawled, yelling at it in the top of your lungs, shaking with rage shook with rage as red hot tears streamed out the rims of your eyes.
"Why did you even exists?" Punching your chest, you flailed your arms around. "Why are you doing this to all of us?!"
"What did we do to you?!" A long, stretched out wail of agony poured out of your throat. "You're a monster!"
"No, am I?"
Your jaw dropped on the ground. As the popup morphs into a pink cat before your very eyes, propelling your body to stumble backwards in panic. It slowly crawled its way to you with its tail growing and stretching out like an organ, till it wraps around your neck in swift motion.
"G-get away! Get away from me!" Its death grip around your neck had you choking, suffocating, gasping for breath.
"Perhaps your lover?"
As the cat forms another new persona—your ex-boyfriend. The rims of your eyes gathered tears. You writhe in pain. legs kicking in frantic motions as those tail are now but long pair of hands suffocating you to death.
"Or your mother?"
The grip loosens, a hand caresses down your temple—wiping off the trailing sweat with such an affectionate manner. Rendering you completely paralyzed by the hands of your 'mother'.
"Or.. my dear pathetic self?"
A deafening slap echoes in the empty air. You clutched your face tight, puzzled and unstable. A mirror. The reflection of you standing before your eyes, yet with her lips twisted in a sneer. A downright replica of you. Every edge of its visage looks exactly like you.
Yet she acts nothing like you.
An orchestration of yourself plays out; spewing all your thoughts, the one you keep yourself. Uttering about how she hates herself for being so stupid. For confessing in the first place. For being such a useless person. Every single thing you kept inside you, she utters with no regards to anything.
"S-stop! Stop doing this to me!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, wailing in agony, covering your ears with your hands to block out the hysterical savageness.
Vulnerable; it was as if your skin were being ripped out, exposing your flesh and blood, everything inside you into a freak show. To see it play out like a drama in front of your eyes humiliated you.
A few beats of silence echoes.
You lifted your wavering eyelashes to see yourself looking down at you with the most menacing smirk.
"This is only a piece of what I have yet to know about you." She tilts her head playfully, approaching you in slow steps. "Remember, the longer you take... The more I get to know you, understand you, act like you, and finally be you. Now do you understand?"
Biting your lip, you force yourself to nod— praying for this nightmare to end once and for all. Your doppelganger broke into a laughter, before her eyes swell into what you can very well decipher as pity.
"Oh, don't look at me that way." She coos, lowering herself down to your fetal position. "It makes me sad, I am neither your enemy or friend. I'm just a little guide, here and there. You wish for a reality where you desire to be craved, and I gave you just that."
She knelt down, extending her palms to you. Your glossy eyes trembled, hesitating. To your surprise, she pulled you into her embrace. Caressing your hair with her palms suffocatingly tender.
"Oh dear me, I just have to take that boy's heart, make him fall for me, make him die for me.."
You barely stifled a yelp of pain when she yanked you away in great force, a gasp spills out of your lips when the same heavy rose pink tint flooded your vision.
"You have to make this man kill for you."
His feline eyes gazing into yours, deep and close—speaking right in front of your face, holding and sinking his fingers on both your arms.
The visage of Jungwon.
He leans in forward, intertwining your both of your wrists in his grip before pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.
Your cheeks flushed involuntarily as his lips came into contact with your neck, colliding behind your earlobe occasionally—sending tingles of goosebumps across your body.
"Make him hold you close, kiss you, and vow his life to you."
This explicit touches under his visage riled up your hormones, twisting an unfamiliar knot below your belly, alarming you. With your trembling arms, you tried pushed him away with your legs yet his grip tightens on your wrists causing you to hiss in pain—a single teardrop escaping the rim of your eye, mirroring your desire to escape.
Pair of strong arms manhandling you, forcing you into a position. Your ears are deafened by this pounding heart behind your chest, as he wipes off the tear from your cheek with his thumb.
"You know, I recall the days where my previous darlings, all of had given me the best and worthy performances, yet a few stood out the most."
His pretty eyes floated off the distance, as if reminiscing the old days.
"There was this one who didn't care at all of the NPCs in this game. He goes on a kill streak, obsessed with achieving the genocide ending. He amuses me yet was so hasty—he forgot that there was a witness escaping his hands."
A spine-chilling giggle floats out of his lips as he continued. "And another one no longer has the will to live her life whatsoever, leaving herself to rot till the very end."
"Ah! I remember," He beams up, "There was this one boy who was also just like you, he broke down into shambles after knowing everything. He swore he would never hurt anyone, but he soon lose control as he slowly reverts to his younger self, by then he's nothing like he was as an adult. He was so terrified of himself that he threw himself off the school roof."
Humming a certain tune, he gripped your shoulders—lifting your jaw up with her thumb, forcing you to look into her eyes.
"That's why you have to work for it, my darling. You don't have much time, after all. Make him yours, then all of him—he shall dedicate to you."
And then your vision flashes. Dropping on your elbows when the grip holding your wrists up vanishes. With no one in this room but you. Till you lifted your head to see the same pop-up—glowing and floating with ease.
➤ .. SONARE, YOU MAY CALL ME THAT.
Sonare?
Electrocution sparks in your veins, propelling you to wince at your hand. Your back curled involuntarily, clasping your chest almost immediately as you felt something inside. Crawling and devouring.
Its starting.
It's only about time where you'll witness the manifestation of your deepest fears.
➤ .. ISN'T THIS WHAT LIFE IS? IN PURSUIT OF SOMETHING, THAT IS HOW HUMANS LIVE. OR ELSE, HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO MOVE?
Mental regression, your soul rotting, your family. Everything else is at stake.
Clenching your fists tight on the floor, you lifted your head up forcing a short laughter. Tears had dried, only to be replaced with the sticky sensation latching on your cheeks.
"I can ask for your help.. right?"
➤ .. YOU MAY CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE IN DIRE NEED OF HELP, BUT THAT DOESN'T GUARANTEE THAT I'LL ALWAYS COME TO YOUR AID. ➤ .. IT'S NO FUN WHEN PLAYERS KEEPS GETTING HINTS.. ➤ .. YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN NOW.
Death.
A loop that could never be broken. You felt as if your life are slipping away from the tips of your fingers every passing second.
Sniffing in as you wiped off your tears with your collar, you headed to the cafeteria with a heavy heart, you went on with the tray like everyone else. You lost track of time, not having any knowledge of what had happened right after you the entire sequences of events.
You're drained.
Chewing on the meat, you sat alone just as you expected. Everyone else had their own circles, and the canteen are spilling with enmeshed voices in various rhythms. You'd find it kind of comfortable to just listen to back then, even when you'd have no one to talk with, just listening still gives you a little comfort. A fantasy world on your own.
But now all of their conversations is made up of a set of codes, repeating accordingly with their task of the day.
Take a breathe, you tell yourself.
You have a long way to go.
Go back to square one. School rivals. Just how many are there? Ten. There are a total of ten rivals. You had to eliminate all of them to survive.
Before you could even reach him, you'd be dead by all these delinquents, crazy fangirls, and students digging their eyes on you. Acting on your missions possessed great risks.
Just making one single error can cost your life; getting caught by one of the students while acting on your missions means getting expelled. Student councils, teachers, and the detectives themselves. It's such a terribly long path with thorny traps and blood spilled.
Refusing to do your missions. Death.
Getting caught. Death.
Expelled. Death.
Failing to win his heart and turning him a yandere for you. He'll be the one to lead you to your graveyard.
It's either theirs, or yours. They will kill you, he will kill you, unless you kill them first.
An inevitable bloodshed..
A gasp spills out of your throat, with your line of vision dripping in avalanche of blood. No. It isn't blood. Cold red juice drips down your face, washing over your skin with it's freezing temperature making your neck shiver at the contact.
Yet the words that followed after were even more colder, laced with contempt.
"Look at our pathetic one-sided love baby girl having her meal all alone,"
The delinquents. All of them gathered in front of you. Your eyes widened in radical inches. It's impossible. They would've never known! Unless someone has been sneaking on you, telling on you with everyone else. But as far as you've remembered, you've avoided getting under someone's skin.
Was it the occult club? The science club? Or perhaps the gardening club?
But this is really fucked up. The fact that your reputation is at its lowest right now meant everyone can ridicule you, make fun of you, toss you around like a play toy.
Series of sinister giggles spilled out one after another, an orchestration of parody playing out before you. You shudder in great humiliation yet you remain still—you couldn't afford to make anymore mistakes that could lead to you possibly being expelled. This is no longer the silly game you spent on trying to beat, this is now your real world with you are living as it's player.
"It was her fault, anyways. How could she ever think she could gain Jungwon's affection with the way she looks?"
"Right! She's making herself out here as a fool!"
"Pretty, you should've rehearse your love confession a bit. No wonder, Jungwon doesn't find you at the very least interesting. It's so bland, having no flavor! And again, can't you just be grateful for his friendship?"
"Where's your self-respect?"
The vein on your necks protrudes a visible line, hands tensing as you gripped tightly on the fork. Fire pit surging up inside your lungs as you struggle to breathe, desiring to scream at their face.
Don't lose your shit. They're just but an NPCs. They're not who they are anymore. A trap is all that it is.
You've withstand this so many times before, what differences would it make now? So why, are you so fucking pissed off?
Hands trembling as you continued chewing the bread in your mouth, and taking another mouthful bite, filling your cheeks and chewing each piece excruciatingly.
Swallowing it all down your throat with agony, as you recalled Sonare's words.
➤ .. AH, MY DARLING. I JUST WONDER, THOUGH. ➤ .. HOW LONG CAN YOU KEEP THIS NAIVETY OF YOURS? ➤ .. HOW LONG CAN YOU LAST.. BEFORE YOU ACHE TO SHED, TO THIRST FOR BLOOD?
You ran off.
Not before hearing the multitude of mockeries and degradation behind you.
It happens way in a blink of an eye. You didn't know what to do, what to act, what to say—in fear of a single mistake that would cause a heavy damage on your reputation, a massive drop that would push you a little closer to death.
With wobbling legs, you fell on your knees. Palms planted firmly on the asphalt. What was that.. clawing on your soul? This growing desire to snap their necks, images of decapitated heads and limbs flashing through your head.
What you've experienced was beyond you, as if someone had their hands wrapped around your wrist, hushing into your ear to shut their mouth once and for all. You were almost on the verge of slamming that blade in their heads.
Exhaling and inhaling a huge air, it does nothing but deepens the pain in your chest, you feel like you could explode at any moment from now.
"Hey, everything's okay there?"
A hand stretches suddenly before you catching you by surprise, you look up with fleeting curiosity—the hazy image of a girl.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Your shoulders droop down as your vision clears, with the back of her hand stroking down your temples, dark silk-like hair framing her face which only accentuates her doe eyes—Kim Minji.
"You're sweating," Pure concern etched on her features, Minji turned behind her—talking with someone. "She's so pale.. Guys, I think we have to get her to the infirmary room."
Giving a clearer view, your eyes fell on two boys; appearing as a slick black-haired boy, the tag name on his uniform written Jake Sim.
But a particular someone capture your heavy lids—standing next to him; the bane of your existence. Those eyes you had to make yours—to harbor affections, obsessions, and undying fervor; Yang Jungwon.
But how? In his eyes, you're nothing but a girl who had confessed to him, yet rejected. Why the fuck do you have to relive the same humiliation twice?
"Oh, isn't she?—" Jake halted his steps, seemingly surprised after kneeling to take a better look at you. His head turning behind him, locking eyes with Jungwon, where the boy in return has a disinterested look but cleared his throat, approaching closer.
"We have to hurry, she doesn't look too well." Jungwon says, patting Jake's back. "You go ahead, and carry her."
"Oh," Jake complied, turning his attention back to you with the same concern as Minji's in his eyes—walking to your side as he loops his arm around your back, placing other hand under your leg—lifting you up with ease.
With Jungwon following behind, hands in his pockets. Minji says with concern lace in her voice, stroking your cheek. "Hurry, Jake."
The boy in question huffs, where the heavy weight in your head pushes your lids down, dropping your head on his shoulder. The last thing you see was pitch black darkness on the other side of the tunnel, multiple giant hands stretching out to pull you inside it.
Forcing you out of your will, dragging you across the puddled asphalt. You cried out for help, your pleas echoing relentlessly. On the end of the tunnel, you could see hope illustrated in the brightest color of white.
You dragged yourself, crawling on your knees until you reached the end.
The landscape of white snows greeted your eyes. It was cold, freezing your bare skin and neck. You let your face be washed over by the breeze, closing your eyes to heighten its sensation. You're in this place again. This fucked up place.
Two silhouettes fading in the distance, stepping into a cabin caught your attention. Freezing in hell, you'd think the imagery of that underworld would be like how it was depicted in books and so. However here, you feel wholly empty, gnawing at that organ behind your ribcage.
You let your eyes remain on the cabin, recalling what your mother says, that girls shouldn't confess first yet you rejected the very idea; that regardless of gender, everyone should be able to confess their love. You didn't heed her advices, fulfilling your own set of principles, and thus you are left with more questions than answers if the boy ever love you even.
Mother was right, not everyone would reciprocate that love with sincerity and genuineness but instead manipulate it into their own benefit.
You're left behind, asking why? You felt her palms rubbed the back of your head, whispering another waves of words into your ears.
"You should never perceive yourself as a victim."
Don't complain. Once you lament your entire life only on that question, that's where hell breaks loose. Because a victim will only see themselves as one, and no one else.
A frog that frustrates over who threw the stone, lamenting over the question;
.. Why me?
But in your case, you'd like to turn this sentence into,
.. Why not me?
Why didn't he choose me in the end? Why did he choose other over me? Those questions lingered in your head.
All your life, you controlled yourself to a degree even when someone stomped on you. You bear it all, withstand it.
But it wasn't because you were kind. You don't see yourself as one.
Mother never says that, she never tells you to be evil either. Too much on either side will after all, spell your end. Your co-workers might have perceive you in the role of a victim, expressing their concerns and all that. But you don't see why, you don't see yourself as pathetic like everyone does. Even when they say you're pitiful. You don't.
You do not see yourself as pathetic, you were doing it because you just had to. You'd had to be part of this society, to survive.
Why should you live according to others' point view of life? How you view it is up to you. Mother was always right.
She was always right, that you've wanted to give her a call and cry it all out on her shoulder. But you knew that you won't be able to do so, as you've failed her not once but twice. Yet you can't help but mumble to yourself, crying out a helpless whisper.
"Mom, I'm dying."
Your eyes shot wide open.
Four white walls.
Your pupils darted wildly around you before letting out a dejected sigh after recalling what happened before you passed out. With heavy lids, you looked over to your side where you notice Minji sleeping on the edge of the bed.
You recalled the words of your boss upon seeing her.
Back then, even though, you ache to shove something into that bastard's mouth, and perhaps suffocate him to death, you persisted—digging your nails on the back of your hand, leaving a crescent marks on it that lasted for awhile. Because he was right, you'd be a hassle to look at.
Minji was the complete opposite. A visage that exudes a classic beauty, one that enthralls everyone close to her. You haven't know much about her yet, but you could get why Jungwon likes her back.
You held the need to scoff, it's just like how it was back then.
In this world, we are all, after all—easily replaceable.
Everyone was nowhere but her, however you could see the nurse in the other room adjacent to this one. Yet not a trace of Jake including Jungwon himself are at sight. Almost close, yet he slips away from your fingers once more. Upon realizing the cold damp cloth on your forehead, you're left with the question of why she had to go this far.
It's like a game of fate, though.
You didn't expect it would be this easy to get close to her. Almost tempting that your thoughts are almost morphing into ones you despise. With your eyes catching the sight of the syringe on the table across from you, you're compelled to take it and dig it inside her neck. It brought back a wave of nostalgia, a very grim one into your eyes.
You shook your head, praying for these thoughts to go away.
The girl shifted in his movements, raising her eyelids open which met yours much to your surprise. Noticing you're awake, her eyes lit up—pushing herself upright swiftly but now with concern swimming in her pupils as she asks.
"You're awake! Are you feeling okay now?"
Now that she was closer unlike the first time in the courtyard, her voice feels more clearer, to your surprise—it was kind of deep and husky. Like the ebbs and flows of the waves washing over the shore—it was pleasant to the ears.
Perhaps, a distinctive voice that you would probably remember for some time. Was she a singer in her real life? A small sentiment grow within your heart at the fact that she's very much gone already, and that whatever question you may have about what she's like, or regarding to her real life should be discarded as it won't do you any favor.
Vapid shells that once sang the hymns of the oceans. Now nothing but just a relentless roaring of the abyss. You wondered if they ever call for help when the life vanishes out of their eyes?
Licking your dry lips, you tried to push yourself up. Minji placed her palms on your back, assisting you as you sat up. "Slow down."
"You're?" Throat hoarse, you voiced out that question—feigning ignorance. You don't know what to do yet, but you can't let this chance go to waste.
"Minji," Her lips pursed up in a tender smile, "Kim Minji."
"Thanks, Minji." Placing your hand on hers, "For helping me just now."
"You don't need to, plus I wasn't the only one." Minji gestures her thumb behind her, keeping the sweet smile on her lips. "The other guys helped too, but they left awhile ago since your shirt was quite drenched."
"Oh," It was only now that you've realize your shirt was taken off, leaving you in your singlet where the former can be seen hanging on the clothing rack. "Thanks again, sorry for troubling you so much."
Shaking her head profusely, Minji replies with a small pout. "Don't say that, we are suppose to help each other when we're in need, no?"
'Help each other'. It might've done some wonders to your heart if not for the fact that this is not reality. That sentence doesn't sit too well with you in this very game. It feels off, somehow. Still, you nodded your head showing appreciation for her help.
There's a trace of hesitation swimming in her eyes, "You don't look like you were sweating that much though, did something happen?"
The sequences back in the canteen flashes in your mind, reminding you of how you were so close to death. Looking down at your legs covered by the sheets, you mustered the best small smile you can.
"I suppose I have annoyed someone."
"Did you beat up their ass?" Her question caught you off guard, but even more so with her eyes filled with anticipation as she leans closer to you. You were stammering, unsure of what to say until she notices her close proximity—letting out a nervous chuckle as she apologize meekly. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine, I'm used to it."
With a trace of what you can recognize as sympathy, swirls in her eyes. She squeezes your hand, lending you warmth.
"You've been sleeping for two hours now."
"I d-did?" Your eyes widened in shock, realizing that you must've skipped the second period which would lower your reputation meter once again. Grimacing as you cupped your forehead, "Please don't tell me you've skipped your class, too?'
"To be honest, yeah.." Minji pursed up a shy smile, "I'm just worried, you really seem like you're not in a good condition.."
You raise a brow at what she could possibly be implying at, until she finished her sentence.
"You kept saying.. that you're definitely dying." She rested her palms on yours, "Its really concerning so I can't help it but stay here with you. Whatever you're thinking about, you're not alone, okay?"
Ah. Was she thinking that you're trying to commit suicide?
In your peripherals, you could see the nurse approaching with a bottle of pills and a glass of water in her hands. "Migraines,"
As she lends you the glass and the pill, it left you downright baffled. Almost scoffing audibly at the very idea of getting fake pills. What this would do to you even?
"Take it easy, by the way. You've got to look after your health, otherwise it would only worsen and you might have to take a leave for a day or two."
No.
There was no way you could skip school—especially more than two days. Especially not after knowing all of the things that could and would happen once you're away. Not wasting any time, you quickly gulped down the pill down your throat—even when you know that it won't help that much—from this pernicious effects of your pending death.
A silhouette catches your peripherals, lips falling apart when he appears again. Yet as your heart involuntarily calls out for him, the name that floats out of his tongue is her name.
"Minji,"
"Wonnie," That nickname catches you by surprise, seeing the obvious effect on Jungwon's visage—dusting his cheeks with pink. "You're back!"
A reaction that sends a pang into your heart. It only amplified by the way his fingers tucked her hairlocks behind her ear—running his fingers down along her hair with such tenderness. The way his eyes are locked into Minji's—listening to her attentively as she talks—like every word that she utters matters more to him more than anything.
Looking away, you reminded yourself that you aren't in love with him. It's this game's mechanics convincing you that you are. So get yourself back in your senses.
"I see," As he lifted his eyes away from Minji to you, "Are you okay now?" His face turns to blank with dull eyes, despite his question carrying a sense of concern, you could sense it—this colossal wall he raises up around you, as if to shield you away from him.
A sheer gap of how he treats you and Minji is evident. Slammed at your face, even. Its only the first day yet somehow it looks like he's too far in deep.
Was Sonare lying to you again?
Whatever it may be. You're screwed. It won't be long till those eyes of his morph into sinister ones, into a fatal poison that would cost your life.
Forcing the best genuine smile you could muster, casting it on Minji.
"Thanks to Minji, yes."
"Good to hear."
He replies nonchalantly before turning his attention back to his girlfriend, his sugary demeanor surfacing back up. "You haven't eaten yet, so I've grabbed you something to eat from the cafeteria."
"You got me my favorite!" Minji beams up, jaw dropping slightly at the plastic wrapped sandwich and an orange juice box. "Thank you Wonnie."
She grabbed his hand, expressing appreciation to him with her eyes but then confusion surfaces from her visage. With her brows knitted together, she tilted her head a bit further to look behind Jungwon. "Is that all?"
"Yeah?"
"But," She turns to look at you, and then at Jungwon. "You didn't got her one?"
"Oh, sorry. I forgot." Jungwon rub his nap, as he says nonchalantly. "To be fair, that was the last one."
Lie. That's a lie.
You knew that wasn't the truth.
Despite knowing from his profile that Jungwon isn't a liar, nor does he utter white lies for the sake of others. You've remembered another thing once you scrolled down to the section of how he's like once he turns into a yandere; that once he starts falling for the player, he will begin to lie even if its the thing he had swore to never do in the first place.
You could see it. He just doesn't see the reason why he should get another one because you are not that even important to him, so why should he care about your wellbeing? As difficult as it was to swallow it down your throat, this is only the beginning. He'd treat you far more worse with each of his heart slowly dedicating itself to this girl in front of you.
"We'll share then," Minji says, as she breaks the sandwich in half—surprising you and Jungwon. "Here!"
Shaking your head, "H-hey, you don't have to, I'm not that hungry."
"You got to eat," She insisted, pushing the half of the bun on your hand. "You've skipped over lunch too, right?"
"No, I did! I've eaten."
That came out louder than you expected it to as the girl jolted in response but emitted a slight laughter shortly after. She looks back and forth at the foods on her hands, before lifting the other hand with the orange juice box on it.
"Then.. Maybe a drink would do?" Minji asks you with a convincing smile before tilting her head up to Jungwon, seemingly asking for permission. "I'm not that thirsty, anyways."
Jungwon just patted her hair, nodding in silence.
Acknowledging that she probably won't give up, you accepted it—punching the straw in the box, taking a sip from it as you observed the two getting in lost in their own world once more, like how Minji shyly commented how the sandwich tastes a lot more better when Jungwon bought it—the need to grimace amplifies, as your head are shrouded with numerous how's.
Of how to rip them apart from each other.
The match-making method would no longer work in this situation. There was no way you will be able to rip them both off each other without resorting to the very method you've been trying to avoid.
She may no longer have her consciousness intact anymore, but even the image of yourself stabbing her to death repulsed you.
➤ .. TO WIN OVER HIS HEART, TO MAKE HIM YOURS—YOU MUST LOSE YOURSELF, FIGURATIVELY OF COURSE! ➤ .. UNLESS IF YOU FAIL IN DOING SO, YOU'LL PERISH IN WAYS YOU'D NEVER IMAGINE.
You pushed away Sonare's words out of your head with a grimace.
You didn't want to keep imagining it you really don't. However, just how long are you going to keep this up? The fact that you've still yet to decide of what is the best way to get rid of her?
You still have a chance, as Jungwon hasn't turn into a yandere yet.. But it won't be long till he falls deeper for his now-girlfriend, Minji.
"Hold on, Heeseung's calling." Jungwon showed the flip phone's screen to Minji before going outside, which she nodded in return.
You didn't miss how he stroke his fingers on Minji's hair before leaving, a gesture that propels a shy smile in the girl's lips.
It hasn't been a day of them being lovers yet, but why the fuck is he so lovestruck? It only does nothing but distress you further. Plus, its weird.. of how Minji seems to have her guard down before you as if she doesn't know anything about it.
Her amiable acts towards you led you to believe that she was unaware of the events between you and Jungwon. He might've kept it from her, or just didn't see it important enough to tell her. All the way more convincing you that you are nothing to him.
You had to make something, do something in some way.
"Which club are you from, by the way?" You asked, partly of genuine curiosity, and partly because you have to dig in more details of her.
"Oh, I'm haven't join one yet.. But I got my eye on one or two clubs."
"What are they, then?"
"Drama, or the light music club." She replied, her fingers fiddling the hem of her sleeves. "But I'm leaning towards the latter.. because singing has always been my favorite thing to do."
This won't be easy, you thought to yourself.
"That's cool!" Feigning support, "You really do look like one, you know, like a singer."
You captured how her eyes lit up with stars. "You really think so?"
Nodding with no trace of hesitation, she lets out a small chuckle, as if she was suspense with disbelief.
"That's- I just didn't think that anyone would notice," Minji says with her eyes gazing out the window, but as you trace at where she was looking at, her eyes seems to look further than you can reach. "I mean, no has ever said that in this place."
"No one has ever said so?"
"Yeah, you're the first one." She says with a smile you somehow feel genuine, "You got a really good eye, I have to say."
Minji asks back with her attention undivided, leaning forward—seemingly curious as well. "What about you? Are you planning to join one of the clubs here as well?"
To be fair, you haven't join any clubs in this particular server you were playing in. You had some plans to get in the art club or martial club sometime ago, but had long forgotten about it. But now, it seems like the art club is your best bet, for now, that is.
"I was thinking, Ar—" Your words were punctuated by the distant chatters outside this room. Jungwon's voice blending with another, which you can't seem to decipher. But it grew clearer as they approached closer.
Jungwon appeared, with a particular someone following behind him.
"Jesus, I thought someone got hurt when you said you were by the infirmary room." The boy rolled his eyes as he shuts his flip phone. "Hey Minji, and.."
His eyes fell on you.
"Who's this?"
Purple hair framing his face, bouncing on his eyelashes—almost obscuring his doe eyes. The eldest among the yanderes, and the leader of the gaming club—Lee Heeseung. If there was one thing most memorable about him in his profile, is that he has a big obsession with collecting keyboards. Not often spotted around his members as he spent afterhours in the gaming club, playing games all day.
You're surprised that he doesn't look at all malnourished, or close to the stereotypical image of a gamer; disheveled hair, dark eyebags, and a gloomy atmosphere but rather a neat, and well-combed hair, paired with a healthy skin tone. Not what you would expect from someone who is cramped all day in a dimly-lit room.
You'd often wonder how the heck the players who chose him would be able to get him out of his inner world of games and keyboards.
Before Minji could answer, Jungwon did.
"Minji was the one who found her almost passed out behind the academy, so we brought her here."
With a complete air of nonchalance, that is. Since awhile ago, you notice how Jungwon has never laid his eyes on you for more than three seconds, his eyes was everywhere but you.
"So?"
"So what?" Heeseung asked with evident confusion.
"I thought you wanted to say something on the way here?"
"Why am I here again? Ah yes, the club." Heeseung mumbling to himself, before letting out a rather loud 'tsk'.
"What's up with the club?"
"You know what I'm talking about," Heeseung ruffled his hair, pushing his tongue in his cheek. "No, seriously, not one but two of the club members quitted. Like why the fuck didn't they inform me way back then? Such a bummer."
"What are you suppose to do even there?" Minji suddenly asks.
Heeseung turns to look at her, "Gaming?"
"Just gaming?"
"Yeah, what else are you suppose to do then?"
"I seriously don't get why the Gaming Club was approved in the first place." Minji shrugs, in which you shared the same thought as well. She has a point, though.
Back in the real world, you never found the gaming club useful at all. Its benefits where you could do missions through playing games to raise your stats kind of wasted your time.
"Well, you'd probably don't get it." Heeseung rolled his eyes, seemingly finding it useless to banter with her before turning to the boy in front of him. "Anyways, Jake has been considering to quit the drama club. What say you, Jungwon?"
"Me?" Jungwon points at himself, in which the former nodded in response. "Who says I'm leaving my club?"
"Dude, just quit the martial arts club." Heeseung says, with an amused expression trying to stifle a chuckle. "It's not like we have any serial killers around here with their ass for you to kick?"
Somehow, you found yourself stiffening at Heeseung's words.
"I'm in dire need for club members now, Yang."
"Ask others, then?" Jungwon said, "You know how many students wants to join your club, especially the girls."
"No, not the girls, please." Grimacing, Heeseung shook his head. "I don't have anything against girls but the thing is they don't have the same level of passion for gaming," Pointing his index finger on the ground as he continues speaking, "Not in this academy, okay?"
"The boys?"
"Sunghoon and Jay isn't budging the fuck from their recipes, while Sunoo had just joined the occult club a month ago, and Ni-ki?" Heeseung shook his head, facepalming himself. "That kid has no sense of either punctuality or responsibility."
He pauses his words in-between, though—as if a light bulb lighted up in his head.
"Wait, if I could get Jake. Perhaps, Ni-ki would follow along."
"Go for it, then."
A sigh spills out of Heeseung's lips. "The calculation I made for this is undoubtedly fairly low, unfortunately. So please,"
Jungwon only shrugs in return, seemingly putting a thought about it.
"You're my only hope now aside from Jake, or else the faculty room's gonna shut my club down, dude." Desperation evident in Heeseung's voice as he kneels down much to you all's surprise. With Jungwon having to force him to stand up but the latter only pressed on, insisting with no hint of giving up at all.
"Oh god, Heeseung." Minji cups her forehead at the sight playing out in front of her before asking you with her lips pursed up in a smile "Which club was it again, the one you wanted to join?"
"Art club."
Hearing your answer, Minji turns to look at the boy kneeling on the floor. "Guess there's no hope for you then."
Heeseung groaned, mumbling to himself how he wasted his energy going all the way down here.
"By the way, Minji. Aren't you suppose to look for the light club's members now?" Jungwon asks, a question directed to Minji.
"Oh my god!" The girl in question abruptly stands, the chair creaking at the same time. "You're right! I totally forgot about it!"
"I'll accompany you there," Jungwon suggested, stretching his hands out to her. You avoid the image of their hands intertwining, looking the other way.
"(Name), you'll be fine here, right?" Minji asks with enthusiasm, in which you nodded in return, assuring her that its okay. "I'll be back later!"
And so you observed as the two left, with Heeseung following behind them but with a pair of eyes you could see fleeting in the distance.
Footsteps and chatters fading in the distance. You watched the faint marmalade sky, taking a deep sigh as you closed your eyes, rummaging your head of what to do.
You opened your eyes to see that he hasn't left yet.
"Why are you still—"
"Ah, so you're (Name)?" Heeseung pulls away after he read your tag name, standing still all while humming a certain tune, quite familiar to your ears but you can't pinpoint where you did it hear from. "You play games?"
"No." You replied swiftly.
Judging by his first question, it was better if you shut it down fast as you don't have any intention in joining the gaming club, since it doesn't have any advantages or benefits like other clubs does. To summarize it, its a completely useless club.
Tilting his head, you feel the curiosity enveloped in his eyes. "What do you mean by 'no'?"
You raise one brow, confused as to what he was implying at.
"Your eyes," Chuckling, he gestures his fingers over his eyes, "They look like they hurt a lot, that means you must have been playing a whole lot of games."
"If you're planning to ask me to join your club, then sorry, I lose all the time."
"Pity, why don't you join my club then?" He chimes in, insisting with chins buried on his palms. "Perhaps under my tutelage, you'll get really, really good at gaming."
"I don't really care in improving my gaming." You rebutted almost nonchalantly, leaning your head on the pillow as you shut your eyes tight.
"Ugh, so close." Heeseung whines, however seemingly insistent at the topic. "Then why do you play games in the first place?"
"What else do you think?" You looked into his eyes, trying to show him that you're bored.
A few beats of silence.
"I don't think so," Heeseung says, "You don't like someone who would play for pastime."
"What makes you think so?"
"Like I said, your eyes." Heeseung says, "It hurts right?"
You played games for what really?
A game where you can freely act on your desires without inflicting real pain on real people, a fantasy world where you shouldn't cross the line.
A line you wanted someone else to cross for you instead.
You wanted someone to be selfish for you for once. Someone who won't have their love wavers with one look on others. Someone who wouldn't say.. that it wasn't true love.
It just so happens that you found this game. You ended up finding solace in these so-called yanderes where they will only have their eyes on you, where their top priority is the best interest of your heart, an affection that exceeds all boundaries and limits, vowing loyalty that never fleets till the end of their life.
It's hilarious how this beings are the twisted form of that sentence your mother utters; instead of manipulating you and using you like a play toy, it was instead used in a way to make you theirs. You ache for that kind of love. It may be all toxic, yet your body aches to be embraced. You had no hope for these obsession to exist in the real world.
Hence why you could only let out your frustrations and lamentation in this game. It's all about you, only you. That's what you love about it. A virtual world where you can unleash your pain, act on your wildest desires, and appease your hurting soul.
Thoughts come and go. But some just persists, latching in the depths of your soul like a pest, therefore your brain does what its best at—to protect you; keep it, hide it like your dirty laundry, and kicking it off in the deepest and darkest corner.
There was no need to hurt someone else just because you had been hurt yourself. You vowed that to yourself.
However you can't deny that this mind of yours, this soul of yours will never be the same. It's tainted. Smudged. Scarred. You're beyond saving, no matter how you try. You can hide it all you want, yet its there, creeping back up when you're presented with that same image of a dirty laundry.
The very same dirty laundry this game is preying on, urging you to nurture it, to let go of your self. To let yourself snap. To make you go back on your own words. A freak show in its eyes.
Oh, how the tables had turned.
"Not all people play games to get better or become pro at it like you do."
Heeseung hums in response, leaning against the edge of the window. "What type of games do you like?"
"Why do you care?"
"Hey," He scoffed, "So is it classified as weird to ask harmless questions now?"
You rolled your eyes, "It's a game where you have to survive."
"Bingo, I'm a pro at surviving, you see." Heeseung throws you a wink, "I can give you tips on how to win if you let me."
"Unfortunately for you," You covered your eyes with your forearm, giving a signal that he should just leave already. "It's a fucked up game, and I don't like playing games anymore anyways."
"I know that words," The boy snickers, approaching you with growing interest laced in his voice. "Tell me, what is this game that's making you act up like this?"
"It's none of your business."
"It is, gaming is my forte."
"Your forte in gaming won't save you from this one."
"What makes you think I can't?" You could feel his silhouette near the edge of the bed, casting a shadow on you. "All the games I've played, I've won."
No, you've lose. Despite being unsure of whether the yanderes themselves are once real people. You couldn't help but be affected by his words. Scoffing at the irony at the words leaving his mouth, you pulled your forearm from your eyes—pushing yourself to sit upright.
Meeting his eyes, you said. "Haven't you wonder that it must be that you've never found a game that will make you lose, yet?"
"That's why I have to play it, we'll know if we never try." He pressed on, keeping the smirk on his lips.
His confidence and all this words is pushing you towards the brink. Groaning, you let yourself fall back on the pillow. Shifting your body where you back faces him. "You'll definitely lose, I'm telling you."
"What? Does it take two players to win?" Tilting his head in amusement, chuckling. "If you're afraid in hindering me, then I don't suck that bad to the point to be held back by an amateur, you know."
"Not even close." Your frown deepens. "You'll only die."
"It doesn't hurt to try."
"It will hurt."
"C'mon, now."
"Don't get too ahead of yourself."
"What's a game for if not to take risks?" Heeseung smirks, "Its not too different from life, you see. There's a reason why they say life is a game." He leans closer, "We only got one chance in life."
You scoffed with your eyes closed, "I didn't know the gaming club's leader can be this persistent outside his computers, but I guess you are staying true to your role as a gamer."
"Well, you won't excel in life if you don't play your role well."
Finally losing your patience, with your eyes now shot wide open—you pushed yourself upright once more, glaring at him with spite. "Seriously? I thought you said to your friend just now that you don't want any girls to join your club because they don't have that, what was it again?"
Heeseung tilted his head sideways, waiting for you to finish your words.
"Ah, yes, passion." With a clenched jaw, and annoyance plastered on your face—you raise your index finger at him, "So why the fuck are you forcing me to join your club?"
"What? Are you offended about what I said?"
"The thing is, I don't care."
"What I said was true, though." Heeseung bends down to your eye level, "No one here has a passion for gaming like I do."
"So why—"
"But I see in it you." With your eyes locked together with his, you could the deep curiosity swirling within. A hollow well yet so strange it sucks your breath away, like a pair of hands wrapped on the back of your head. "Like I said, your eyes."
You released a shaky breath when he finally pulls away, breaking the intense prolonged eye contact.
"What say you, pretty?" His voice pulls you out, "Maybe I can help you win."
With trembling hands, you spat out. "Leave."
"Alright, alright, I'll be leaving now." Heeseung's voice fades as he heads off to the exit, but your ears caught on his halted steps. "But my offer still stands. In case you change your mind, you know where to find me."
With silence finally enveloping the room, you're left wondering what had just happened. What was that, even?
The leader of the yanderes offering you to join his club, which doesn't serve you any benefits. But as you've given it more thought, perhaps this is the golden chance to get closer to Jungwon, which is through his friends. What better way is it if not through the leader himself?
But if everything went exactly the way you want it to be, what would you do with Minji? After that seemingly genuine conversation with her, it pains your heart to even imagine anything sort that way.
It leaves you more conflicted as time passes, though, as you can't still seem to decide whether joining the gaming club is better than the art club. As tempted as you are, you cannot join the martial arts club. You are certain that it will only push Jungwon away from you.
Instead, the drama club would give you way more benefits with its costume and masks, and Jake was there too but Heeseung had mentioned that he's considering of leaving so there's that. While the cooking club has both Sunghoon and Jay—the unfortunate encounter you had with the former earlier had left you somewhat intimidated by him, and remembering Jay's profile doesn't make you feel any better as he had a shady history.
Perhaps the occult club would be a better option, and Sunoo has been an active member for two months. Despite being one of the yanderes, he's a sweet boy with a cheerful demeanor—and that makes it easier to get close to him. But the overall atmosphere of the other occult members makes you grimace, they don't seem very welcoming in your opinion.
Ruffling your hair in a mess, you clenched your jaw as you couldn't find yourself making the right decision.
What's even the right decision? You are scared. You truly are scared. It has been awhile since you've felt this much dread and fear. You've gotten really good at holding yourself back all this time, doing so well not letting your personal emotions getting the best of you.
But now you aren't so sure anymore.
You weren't sure of which are you scared of more too; was it the fact that your entire existence will be wiped out if you fail, or was it because you'll rot, or was it because everything you've tried so hard to forget will flood back once more?
Or maybe it was everything altogether.
Truth to be told, you're afraid of the you that will slowly return. That part of you that sees herself as a victim and no one else. You didn't want to go back to her anymore.
It was so far back, hazy swirls shrouding your head. You suppressed it in a way. You can no longer remember the details. Yet it was there inside your heart. That reeking dirty laundry swirling your heart, recycling it like a washing machine.
A side of you that deeply perturbs your soul.
Deep down, it also terrifies you that this game will come to understand you soon, more than you do.
A frog that frustrates over who threw the stone, lamenting over the question; "Why me?"
You do not wish to go back to the you from back then. Not anymore.
Your lips fell apart when the atmosphere against your bare skin changes, growing thick and tense as if someone had pressed the pause button. The swaying lush trees beyond the window halted, and the nurse on the other side of the room stood still. The chatters outside are replaced with a deafening silence.
A gasp spills out of your throat when the same pink display screen like Sonare appeared, however instead of texts—list of choices are presented before your eyes.
Whatever you choose to term it with, these set of choices are now the bane of your life. A heavy weight pushing you down as you read each choice, leaving you more distress than ever.
You've got to instill it in your mind that being Jungwon's girlfriend isn't enough, you have to make him die for you—where everything he sees, hear, smell, and taste is you.
If you want to live, you had to.
Make him yours, make him say yes to your love confession.
➤ .. CAN YOU CLIMB UP THE RANKS AND TAKE THE SPOT AS THE ONE AND ONLY BELOVED DARLING OF YOUR YANDERE?
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© 2022-2024, pieroulette on [tumblr]. all rights reserved.
📫 qna can be delivered to my sideblog: @yuanvei !
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0kurakura0 · 4 days ago
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In da clurb we all fam
--->tf 141 x (platonic) reader (American)
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This is a stupid headcanon if the reader was part of tf 141 and had a chaotic platonic relationship with all of them (might make this into a series if more popular because I love these little brain rot headcanons Comment on what readers call sign should be lol!!!
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Reader would be on the younger side, close to Soap's age but maybe a year or two younger.
I feel like it would def be Soap, Gaz, and Reader being the troublemaker trio of the base, and would pull pranks all the time.
You, Gaz, and Soap had the amazing idea of taking Ghost's masks and wearing them around like it was a normal day. In the common room, y'all are wearing the masks just chatting about. Till yall hear a loud slamming noise and certain cranky pants yell, "WERE ARE THOSE SHITS." "Guys, if we stick together, he can't take us all, LIBERTY OR DEATH," you say to the other 2. "FREEDOM," Soap yells along with you. "wankers..." Gaz says, watching the 2. You turn your head around to see Ghost staring down at you with a death glare. "hand it over," he says in a threatening tone. "hehe, LT, be prepared for your day of defeat has finally arrived. Come on, guy, let-" your voice dies out as you turn your head to see the now vacant seats where your teammates once stood. "Those bitches..." you say as Ghost grabs your back collar and drags you away for an extra brutal training session.
Read would be the person on base to try and take over the base's speaker system to play music any chance they got.
"I hope they play Fien" "what the bloody hell are you talking about we are in the middle of training," Gaz says Fien starts blasting throughout the base as you start jamming out
Definitely have tried to get Nikolai to let you fly the helicopter. But everyone has come to a silent agreement that they don't know if you can fly one well, and they don't ever want to find out if you can or not
Constantly makes Price question his life choices of recruiting you.
"Remember Farah, you always can call if you need us." "yeah in da clurb we all fam" "... what" "in da clurb, we all-" "bloody hell Sergent shut up"
During the 4th of July, you take advantage of the holiday to rub it into the faces of all the Brits on base. Saop loves to join in and helps decorate the whole base in American flags and also takes advantage of having an excuse to make homemade fireworks.
Ghost, Price, and Gaz just stand in total annoyance as they watch the 2 idiots in front of them who are dancing around dressed in American flagged style clothes as they since the national anthem. "NOW SOAP TO THE BATHTUB AS WE REENACT THE BOSTON TEA PARTY" you yell in in excitement. "Touch that tea and I break your bloody fingers"
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If there are grammar errors, sorry did this while in class
also hope yall like this little headcanon <3
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phfenomena · 11 months ago
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❝dancing in the refrigerator light.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader
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| request- tom and reader baking while the background song is stand by me (let us all be delusional)
| A/N- i love this so much you have no idea. this shit got me ENTHRALLED also i imagine this as like right after ‘you’re my best friend’ happened…a part two perhaps..
| WARNINGS- food, dancing, touching a burning hot pan bc you’re too busy looking at tom, and big ole kissies
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(divider by @v6que)
you stand in your kitchen humming along to the quiet music flowing through your house, mixing the blueberry muffin batter. it’s well past midnight at this point but you find it impossible to fall under the blanket of rest.
you left tom snoozing soundly in your bed, not wanting to bother him at this hour. a small smile plays on your lips as you zone out while mixing and think about how well everything played out so well with him. you hone back in to your mixing before you feel tom rest his chin on your shoulder.
“you’re supposed to be asleep.” you whisper, leaning you head onto his as he hums and closes his eyes. “can’t stay asleep, what’re you making?” he questions right next to your ear making your face slightly warm, your crush on him will never go away. “blueberry muffins. my mom always used to make them when we couldn’t sleep.” you confided in him softly.
you slide the baking pan into the oven with a slight screech from the metal on metal. you sat on the kitchen floor in front of the oven and set your timer, tom taking a seat next to you. “what are we doing?” he whispers through the silent air. “watching the muffins.”
the ‘watching the muffins’ eventually turned into you guys sitting on the couch kissing and telling stories. he’d tell you his set stories and you’d laugh and shake you head at him. the sight of them engrossed with each other was saccharine and sickeningly sweet. the familiar ding from your apple timer caused you to sit straight up and pull tom towards the kitchen again.
as you open the oven you look over to see tom, shirtless only clad in pajama bottoms licking the remaining batter off the spoon, illuminated by the moonlight and small warm lamps scattered around. before you can even realize that your hand was still moving, your skin came into contact with the boiling metal. you draw your hand back with a hiss and swear under your breath.
tom quickly turns the faucet to cold and places your hand under it, turning around to take the muffins out and turn the oven off. you start to quietly giggle as you pull him apart with your eyes, once again. “what happened, love? i thought you were a whiz in the kitchen.” he runs his hand up and down your back and you lean into him.
“i was, i am, i just couldn’t stop looking at you. you’re like a literal angel that i can’t believe is real.” you whisper to him while turning your head up to him and smiling. you hold your injured hand out to him “i almost died for you. that shows my dedication.” he scoffs and rolls his eyes before pushing your hand back under the water.
you both sat cross legged on the kitchen floor, each with a glass of milk in front of them and a muffin in hand. “so worth it. i don’t even need my left hand if i can have muffins forever” you joke with your mouth full with the pastry. tom raises his eyebrows at you “i, however, do think you might need both hands to function…and other activities.” he confidently spat out his sentence causing you to throw your head back laughing to hide the blush that made home on your cheeks and the warmth that tom manages to propagate throughout your body.
the speakers, who had been forgotten about, start to quietly leak out ‘stand by me’ and toms face lights up and pulls you up to meet him. he bows and sticks his hand out to you, asking for a dance. your smile cannot be contained as you take his hand and quickly remember you also cannot dance. the pair of you looks almost like a baby giraffe- although the giraffe might dance better.
you eventually give up on the waltz and wrap your arms around toms waist and hug him. “i’m really fucking tired.” you say into his chest and you feel his body vibrate when he laughs. you lift your head up and his comes down for your lips to meet. after more than enough kisses tom tries pulling you back to bed. “i thought you said you were tired?” “i am, i’m grabbing a muffin for the trip.”
you feel as if a piece of the sun had fallen down and nestled itself into your ribcage, but that’s just tom.
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arkhammaid · 9 months ago
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE LIVERY LAUNCH
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fandom. formula one & mcu
about. the stark racing f1 team launches their livery
content warnings. written in 3rd person/lowercase, written + smau, not edited/proofread
word count. 0.8k + smau parts
notes. the main arc begins!!
y/n doesn't do nervous. not as l/n, not as stark- it's simply not in her nature. yet when the lights dimm and the audience starts to grow silent, her heart was up hear throat and she tried to dry her sweaty palms on her race suit.
"there is no need for that", muttered her teammate right behind her and she almost jumped. she glared at him, but he just grinned and gave her two thumbs up.
"don't do that, it makes you look old." he immediately put them down and she snorted.
"alright, you two, are you ready?" a stark employee, more specifically a stark racing employee, ushered them across the backstage all the way beneath it, ready to push them to the big event.
the car launch. the livery reveal. the introduction of stark to formula one, probably the most anticipated event of the year. unlike the other teams, they've been teasing the public for several weeks now, nothing concrete. speculations were all over social media, no one was even sure what main color stark racing would have, something the marketing team was very proud of.
now they would not only reveal the car, which would dominate the season (because- who are they kidding? they definitely will) but also the branding and race suits, and officially appear as drivers in one place.
the music started to play, the room darkened and the lightshow started. but y/n couldn't see anything of it happen. instead she was guided to the platform, which would bring her on stage, and put her helmet on.
a whole minute they would have to wait, a pre-recorded speech entertaining the guests and viewers all around the world, until she and kevin would appear in total darkness.
and they did. the platform brought them up silently, the room blacked out completely, until the lights behind them flashed on, shining on their backs.
the whole thing could be described as dramatic, over the top, but it fit. it fit the name, her father, herself. to show up with a bang.
"introducing... our drivers. y/n l/n-stark, number 95 and kevin magnussen, number 20! a round of applause everyone!" thunderous applause filled the giant room, people started to shout, when they finally took of their helmets.
with a grin, y/n spread her arms, raising her head and then her helmet over it. she stood proud and tall, all stark.
an assistant rushed to the stage, taking their helmets, to allow them complete freedom during their part of the reveal. y/n immediately took over, as it had been planned.
"welcome everyone, to the official launch of stark racing formula one team! i'm honored to introduce to you not only the car itself, but also the team." with a wide grin, she turned to kevin, who nodded to her.
"i'm sure you've all waited for him, our team principal, four-times worldchampion... sebastian vettel!" the room thundered again, cameras flashed, when seb walked on stage to stand between the two drivers. he waved to the crowd and bowed with a laugh, when they wouldn't stop cheering.
"thank you, thank you. wow, what a welcome! i'm very happy to be here, it has been a few years... but now we're back- and i'm thankful for the oppurtunity i've received. y/n, kevin... to a good season. to our fans, we all thank you for your support you've already showed, it's been incredible so far!"
"it's a special occasion, for all of us. and we have something very special for you", y/n winked, while slowly walking backwards, until she stood right in front of the gigantic screen, lightly knocking with her knuckle on it. a ripple animation waved across the screen and the room dimmed again. hushes were heard, when the sound of whirring filled the room, carried by the speakers.
another platform was brought up, the car. hidden by dark, silky fabric, it stood in the middle of the stage, ready to be revealed.
"ladies and gentlemen... the first car completely engineered by stark, for the stark racing formula one team... welcoming to the world, the SR-1!"
with that, kevin and y/n slowly began to lift the fabrig from the car, revealing a blinding white livery. lines of chrome streamlined it, the name stark proudly stood on the sides of it.
"it's mine, by the way", y/n joked and pointed on the number 95, after the crowd calmed.
"har, har", kevin drily replied, but he couldn't hide his grin.
"welcome, everyone... to the future!"
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YNSTARK
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liked by tonystark, charles_leclerc, mickschumacher and 7'973'331 others
ynstark happy valentine in white ;)
user what a perfect way to end valentine
user MOMMY, SORRY, MOMMY-
lancestroll The launch was incredible 👏
tonystark This is my daugher!
⤷ ynstark this is my dad <3
peterstark ew, your face on my dash....
⤷ ynstark i will block you
⤷ peterstark i will tell pepper
⤷ ynstark *blocked*
user white is such a good color on her??
user i just fell on my knees in the middle of the street
sebastianvettel You're incredible, I'm excited for our future!
⤷ ynstark STOP you're making me cry 😭
⤷ ynstark @/charles_leclerc look at this, your grid father loves me more than you
⤷ charles_leclerc That's not true! You better take it back!!
zendaya what a beauty 🤩
⤷ ynstark no, you!!
user we got the arm spread and the wink, now i'm waiting for the iconic peace sign
user white stark era, white stark era, WHITE STARK ERA!!!
user the bitchfighting with her actual brother and her grid brother is EVERYTHING to me
⤷ user oh my god you're right, charles and y/n are grid!siblings...
⤷ user IM WAITING FOR DAD SEB, YOU HEAR ME I'M WAITING
starkracing Our future champion!
⤷ ynstark hehehe
user red bull has been oddly silent
⤷ user they're all trying to stop christian from committing a crime
⤷ user or drying his never ending tears
⤷ user LMAO I CAN NOT
user half of the grid in the likes... i fear y/n is becoming the it girl fr
user these comments are a goldmine
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ARKHAM MAID 2024
524 notes · View notes
lovelybotblog · 2 months ago
Text
bed quem !
“– Who’s that cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ”
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satoru gojo! x female reader!
summary: You're at a party hosted by the company you work when fate brings you together with the most breathtaking man you've ever seen with a unique sense of humor, but, can you play along? contents: slight use of "y/n", suggestive, cursing, sunshine x grumpy, fluff, non-curse au word count: 8k
The investment fund you worked for, one of the great pioneers in the New York economy business, was throwing a party to celebrate the merger with a Japanese company, several exchanges of partners and workers between countries were already underway, and you were one of the workers who benefited with a promotion.
So at the same time you credited a small part of the celebration to your position as one of the new company's controllers. And also your colleagues in the area, because from time to time they came up to you to congratulate you.
“Hey, y/n!” You heard a voice calling you in a festive tone.
You looked around trying to find where that voice was coming from through the speakers that were playing electronic music louder than the normal for an executive event. The owner of the company loved to rock his parties, you could describe it as unforgettable and overdoing.
You were surrounded by people talking and dancing, your vision under the liquors you acquired during the night made your vision poorer and the phosphorescent colored lasers that ran throughout the event hall blinded you when they passed through your sight.
“Congratulations.” You felt the hairs on your neck stand up when you felt an unfamiliar grip on your shoulder, the warmth exuded from the voice meeting the flesh of your ear.
You glanced over your shoulder, taking a preemptive step back. “Jackson.” You greeted.
"If I was harsh with you earlier, it was because I wanted to motivate you." It was one of your male colleagues, not one you liked. “I always knew you'd get here.” You knew he hoped you didn’t.
“Thank you.” You responded with a pursed, thin, not heart-holy smile.
He mirrored your expression, taking a small breath before speaking again, “Now that we are in the same branch, any misunderstanding we may have had is best forgotten.”
You forced yourself to control your eyes from popping out of your sockets as your glare intensified, feeling the grip on the glass in your hand tighten. He was a real punk. When you were working for him as an analyst not more than a couple of months ago, he yelled at you calling you ‘useless bitch’ when his irreverent purchase went wrong and blamed you for your numbers being wrong (which were not), when he was the one risking it all for a few million when the estimates you’d given him were clearly low.
“You think so?” You didn't know if the heat you felt was because of your growing anger or the high temperature of the place.
“Definitely,” He answered you, letting out the annoying laugh that you had to endure so many times after hearing him tell one of his sickening jokes first thing in the morning. You brought your French 76 to your mouth, settling the taste of the vodka into your system to put up with more of the thug in front of you.“For the sake of the team.” He winked at you.
The glass stopped on your lips, your eyebrow suffering an unnoticeable twitch. For the sake of the team you should break the glass over his head.
“You guys having fun?” Another one of your colleagues joined the conversation, breaking the closeness the man had forced between you and him.
“Akira! I was hoping to see you.” Your voice came out with happiness, surrounding your senior colleague's shoulders, full of gratitude. She chuckled, fully knowing the reason for your mannerism.
“Am I interrupting something?" She questioned, bringing her index finger to her chin in curiosity, staring sharply at the man in front of you.
Who shook his head, bringing the hand that was previously on your shoulder to the back of his neck, a nervous giggle escaping from his lips. "Not at all, I was just congratulating y/n on her achievement."
Akira nodded, grappling one of her arms to your waist, her gaze not slipping from the man at any moment. The “Mama bear” nickname given by the employees was truly accurate and Jackson was a known pain in the ass, so it was her job to keep him in line. In addition to being treated with fear for being CFO, Akira was also respected for being the only woman with her position in the branch.
Jackson scanned the room, looking for someone else to bother, "If you'll excuse me, ladies." He vowed his head before leaving the scene.
You laughed next to your senior while watching the man's back. “He’s such a moron.”
“He is.” The woman sighed, finally concentrating on your state. “And I should get you a drink, we have to celebrate my little chick hatching.” Akita teased you, squeezing your side. She was the one you did your internship with. She made you go through hell with paperwork and marathons to hand out schedules from one executive to another, but with impeccable effort and paranoia of failure, you managed to get through it with honors.
You both walked towards the bar, making your way through the crowd and greetings from colleagues. You felt your feet starting to ache from the pointed heels you were wearing, shiny black with an ankle strap, they were beautiful of course, but they were higher than what you usually wore.
Although the thought of your accomplishment rolling through your head cancelled it out. You could claim to be happy, it had been a long time since you felt proud of yourself.
"You said earlier that you were hoping to see me, is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Akira asked you, her gaze searching for empty seats at the bartender's counter. Your arms let go of the woman when you realized how long you had been holding her.
"Oh, yeah. Before I came I was analyzing your idea of ​​buying that new company you rambled on a few days ago and it's actually not a bad idea, despite the small income they have now, in a year's time they will grow their incomes 45% percent. I think we should take the risk." You began to explain quickly and concisely as you were guided by the other. A smile escaping your lips at the idea of ​​all the new possibilities.
A small, incredulous laugh was heard from Akira, "M’kay, babes, I know you're all-excited and your child prodigy nature makes you hungry for action,” She interrupted herself to point to two lonely seats, heading towards them. “But enjoy your first big accomplishment.”
You felt a cold wave washing you out. Every cell in your body felt electrified, eager to learn, excited about how efficiently or poorly your ideas could turn out.
The other woman knocked the wood plank of the bar twice as she climbed onto the stool, you mimicked her action. “Two Margaritas, please.” She asked the bartender as he approached the two of you, he nodded at the petition and walked away.
You noticed that the bar was packed, people were really taking advantage of the free drinks. Groups stood close to the bar for easy ordering, couples were talking in the stools, and baristas paced back and forth with a mental list of the many orders.
“You are very smart, but you're also young. You shouldn't spend all your time working, go loco, screw up sometimes, it'll be okay." Akira lectured you, everyone with eyes could notice that you were a very committed person with the complement of your responsibilities, a little too much. "I know you mean well, but it can wait until we're on work hours." She continued, "We're at a party."
The party was formally work-related, so technically you were in work hours, you thought.
“When you get to your mid-forties depressive crises, you can bussy you up with work, but girl- a few years ago you were just a graduate, you still have time to live out the silly, saccharine crush and drunken weekends. What are you doing?” She made you question yourself.
You knew you were very dedicated to your career, but you realized you were starting to act like your father. A chill runned through your body.
"Look at me, I wish I had the availability you have." Your eyes scanned the woman from top to bottom. Her hair was thick and curly brown, her skin was a dark cinnamon color, and her eyes were tiger-like. Even though she had birthed two children, her curves were preserved intact.
I wouldn’t mind being busy if I looked like you in my forties, you restrained yourself to say. But you were a smart person, you understanded what she was trying to say from the beginning, the thing was that you had no motivation to do it.
The drinks arrived, “Thank you.” Both of you said to the bartender, following him with your eyes as he walked away again.
“I’m not a boring person.” You defended yourself, watching the woman raise her eyebrows and slightly widen her eyes.
“I know.” She answered, smiling with her lips, paying attention to the train of your thoughts.
“I go out.” You continued trying to remember interesting things you have done, Akira nodded as she said ‘okay’, “I date, I have gone on dates.” You added, remembering the dude who asked for your number in your local coffee shop and your old college friend who you ran into while waiting for the subway and asked you out, the one you’ve been texting for three weeks.
“I’m glad you do.” Akira responded, waiting for more opening from you. “My husband will pick me up, I can give you a ride if that's what you're worried about.” It was hard times with the security of women, she understanded if that’s what got you doubting, she would too.
“That would be nice.” You mumbled, that would change the cards on the table. You were celebrating, you reminded yourself. “I guess I could get a few drinks.” Akira’s composure regained its excitement.
“And maybe some shots after!” She added with a smile, moving closer to the edge of the stool.
“Yeah!” You nodded your head, trying to match her enthusiasm, realizing that maybe she was the one who needed the fun night and she was just trying to find a reason to go loco, as she said. There was obviously a lecture in her words, a try to change your mindset, and she kind of did, because you don’t remember well how she managed to convince you to drink the two margaritas. Then you ordered a line of shots that made the warm go up to your neck. Suddenly the loudness of the party didn’t bother you, and you felt happier, making you match your senior extrovertness.
People started to join your circle, one of your Mexican coworkers started shouting “Fondo, fondo, fondo!” As other of your coworkers drinked his beer from top to bottom. Everyone around cheered when he finished, it reminded you of your college days.
In any other business party that behavior would be completely judged, but apparently the ambience of this was given to do any kind of exaggerated outgoings for people to do. You knew that they were gonna regret that the day after and on Monday, everyone was gonna pretend they didn’t go nuts.
“Miss Campbell, the CEOs would like to introduce you to someone," One of the secretaries of the office whispered in Akira's ear, who nodded quickly. You got off the stool, reaching to your coworker, worried about being left alone.
“I'll be right back, wonder girl,” Your senior captivated your attention, patting you on the shoulder. “If you need anything, feel free to call me or text me, whatever.” She said before walking away, leaving you amazed that she looked like she hadn't had a drop of alcohol, walking upright and a stoic expression settling in when it came to business again.
You waved at her when Akira turned her head to see you, you smiled at her, trying to calm your nerves down when you noticed everyone around you was unknown to you. You stepped back to your seat but your back bumped into something.
“So, you are the wonder girl?” You heard a voice behind you making you jump, taking you out. You turned around, facing probably the most handsome man you have ever seen. You quickly noticed his unique white-snow hair, whose locks of hair decorated his big blue eyes as clear and bright as the sea water on a sunny day. The next thing you noticed was that he stole your seat, the one you left alone for like ten seconds. "I pictured someone different." He admitted with a smirk, letting a chuckle out.
You scoffed, trying to figure out if you were surprised by his boldness or his looks, probably both.
“Are you gonna tell me your name or…?” He asked, leaning his arm on the bar, tilting his head slightly, allowing himself the luxury of observing your facial features freely while you looked around to check that it wasn't a prank because there was no way someone could talk as shamelessly as him.
“My name? Who are you?” You questioned him. You noticed his slanted eyes, you assumed he was one of the Japanese employees who blended in with your company.
“I asked first,” He stated.
You huffed at his words, watching him roll back his shoulders, making you notice how broad he was compared to you.
You forced yourself to return your gaze to his eyes, not without first noticing the sunglasses hanging on his unbuttoned formal shirt, slightly giving more room to see his chest.
“And I didn't mean anything negative when I said I picture you differently.” The white-haired man clarified, leaning closer to your face. Even if you were standing and he was sitting, his face was leveled slightly higher. You crossed your arms, waiting to receive a worse comment, “I imagined someone more nerdy looking, maybe with ugly, giant glasses, and a somewhat evil personality.”
Your body relaxed at that, quickly changing your surprised expression to a questioning one, “What assures you that I’m not evil?”
He held your gaze for a few seconds, his smirk still plastered on his face. He leaned back, resting one arm on the bar and placing his other hand on his thigh. “Although you have quite a few envious people talking badly about you behind your back,” He began to speak, making you furrow your eyebrows at his words, “While I was waiting in line for my order to be taken, I noticed that, of all the people you were surrounded, you were the only one smiling so sincerely and purely the whole time.” He unfolded himself, his cheeky smile faded into a smaller but still sincere one.
“So, not only you stole my seat but you also were stalking me?” You pointed out, trying to focus on something other than the fact that someone who looks like him took the time to observe you. The heat returned to your neck and cheeks, it made you feel flattered, a bit of excitement even.
“Well, I'd say that you just happened to stand right in the spot I wanted to lay my eyes on. And the seat was empty, so I took it." He teased you, throwing his hands in the air.
“Oh, and you’re also a comedian.” You say before drinking the rest of the cocktail you still had in your hand, the ice cubes had already melted and the flavor was diluted. You were trying to figure out what to expect from this interaction.
Your sense of self-preservation was telling you to back away, he was making you nervous and that wasn't a good sign. You didn't know how to handle this type of situation -whatever his intentions were-, you deduced that he was probably just playing. But he was magnetic, he made your heart race, his mere presence was imposing. You felt drunk by the way his features seemed sculpted by the gods, by the way his voice was like a siren's song drawing you to the bottom of the sea, by the way his beauty numbed the pain caused by your heels.
He leaned forward as he watched you remove the contact of the glass with your lips, although it stopped midway when from the corner of your eyes you glanced at the way his arm muscles flex under the fabric of his white jacket, immediately sliding your gaze to his eyes. Now that he was closer you noticed how long and full his eyelashes were. “And you are pretty.” He admitted.
You feel your chest rise up and down at this, taking a deep breath that crashes into his face, making him flicker his eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks. His innocent words might not have any meaning, he might be messing with you, but you also couldn't help the nauseous feeling of highschool-like when the popular guy smiles at you.
You didn't want to smile at his compliment, you didn't even know his name, you were being irreverent. But it was obvious that he worked for the same company, so it shouldn't be so dangerous to trust him, no, you shouldn't let your guard down. Your internal fight was making you more confused.
“I don’t know your name.” You verbalized when no other response came to your mind.
The man didn't seem unfazed, he quickly catched that his name was not your only concern. "Well I don't know your name either."
“But you know my nickname, I think that's already an advantage for you over my personal info. It’s only the fair to give me your name." You fought back.
His brows cured together with a hint of hesitation. His soft smile was intact but it was more than obvious that his thoughts were plotting, he licked his lips, “Then no names.” He proposed.
You could reject him and walk away from the situation without any problem, but you would be lying if you denied that you were curious about him. Plus Akira’s lecture had an impact on your brain chemistry.
“Fine by me.” You agreed, leaving the glass of your hand on the counter.
And as if planned, the barista just happened to leave three diluted reddish drinks that seemed to be cosmopolitans and another dark red glass in front of Gojo. “Thank you,” He muttered, handing the man behind the bar a generous tip. He turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye but you managed to look away before he catched you. “Are you keeping me company?”
“Uhm, weren’t you supposed to take this somewhere?” You pointed out the glasses on the counter.
“I am in no hurry.”
You raised an eyebrow at his immediate, smugly and playful response. “Won’t your friends miss you?” You questioned him with a smile at his smooth talk.
“They’ll understand.” He tried to play it off knowing damn well his friends were in fact not gonna understand.
“Kay’,” You nodded, leaning on one of your feet, your left hand playing with the edge of the counter next to you. “Cool, cool, cool.” You said, instantly regretting it.
You looked down as you pulled your beautiful black sheer dress with nude bottom from your stomach down, which had gathered at the base of your waist from when you were sitting.
You wanted to lean on something, preferably sit down, but you also didn't want to change the position of the man in front of you. You didn’t even realize you were stuck in the middle of his manspreading.
“So, are you staying with me?” His voice took you out of your thoughts as he rested his head on his bicep, lowering the level of his head to be able to connect his gaze with yours, still on the ground.
You couldn't help but let out a small smile as his eyes shone craving to capture your attention, his smile widening when he succeeded.
Then reality hit you, you shouldn’t like being enthralled by his charms, you couldn’t. It was exciting, yes, but it was wrong because, “I’m with someone.”
That sounded ugly, it turned your stomach to say that, but it turned your stomach more to see his smile slowly disappear, you were starting to get used to it.
“I mean, he’s not my boyfriend yet.” That garbage of a sentence escaped from your mouth, the man in front of you tilted his head as a confusion expression grew on his face, “But I’m talking to someone, and he might get to be my boyfriend at some point,” You should stop talking, “-and I think it would be immoral of me to talk to you being aware of the other person's feelings, not that I think you’re flirting with me! Ha-ha,” You should really stop talking, “He trusts me, I wouldn’t like to betray him.” You finally finished, letting out a sigh, closing your eyes against your verbal diarrhea, that was humiliating.
That's why you didn't go on dates or go crazy like Akira told you, because everything ended up screwed up like now, painfully accurate like she said. You were about to apologize and leave, your burning face buried in your hands as a bursted laugh cut you up.
“Good, I hate betrayal,” he told you, his accent slipping through his words. You separated two spaces between your fingers to make way for your eyes, noticing that his hands were now resting on his knees, at your sides. He offered you a soft smile as he tried to imagine a man more handsome, polite, stronger, funnier and skillful -in any kind of way- than him, but he couldn’t, “But us sharing a drink while we chat isn’t overstepping the mark, is it?”
You thought about it a bit, you didn’t know anything about him, but he was at the company party, so he had to work in one of the companies, probably the Japanese one, and seeming that they became one, that turns you into coworkers sharing time to strengthen the union of companies. Camaraderie, that’s it.
“I guess not.”
His smile grew -watching as your expression relaxed- proud and cheeky, but his eyes remained soft, trying to remain understanding if you denied his invitation.
Even if he was a smooth talker, when it came to girls he never really needed it, it was natural that they always approached him. But you were a totally different kind of afterglow, everything he'd heard about you, good or bad, wasn't enough to prepare him for a stunner like you.
If he took your seat, it wasn't because he wanted to sit as he said, but because from the moment he was in line to order you caught his eye, eclipsing everyone in the room, making his legs weak with your dancing silhouette under the fluorescent lights of the disco and your smile that could light up the darkest nights.
“Okay, then let’s talk,” The mysterious man pressed, his gaze piercing your hands still over your face, trying to see that little giddy smirk of yours. He pulled away again and slid one of his drinks towards you. “You set the limit.”
You let out a giggle-sigh like, he was truly breathtaking. And a skilled manipulator, because it was the first time a man charms had convinced you to give in to your own warnings.
You shifted your weight to your other foot, still hesitant, “Fine.” You agreed, lowering your guard as you reached out to the drink, the tip of your fingers brushing against his as he took a couple of seconds to let go of the glass that shuddered on your hand when you were obnoxiously pushed from behind with a subsequent ‘sorry' from a person poking their head in the bar trying to get the barista’s attention.
“Let’s go to the sofa, it’s too noisy here.” You forced yourself to say to the white-haired man in front of you when you noticed the slight annoyance that grew on his eyebrows towards the person who pushed you.
He nodded, as you didn't miss the way he effortlessly took the remaining three drinks between his long fingers. When he stood up you felt a flutter run through your body when you noticed how he towered you and his muscular shoulders and flexed arms significantly framed your figure.
He guided you, making you way through the crowds, to where you had previously pointed out some sofas in the corner of the place, which although it was the quietest area, it was only because all the people there were flirting or hiding in the darkness to smooch. If he was honest, he wouldn't mind if your old monologue was thrown out the window and you opted for the second option.
He sat down first, then you imitated him, putting more distance between the two of you that you would like.
“I don’t bite.” He growled at you, watching as you leaned over on the edge of the sofa now gaining enough confidence to attentively observe the drinks he had placed on the table in front of you.
He rolled his eyes although that was just a facade to hide the fact that he almost tripped when you were walking behind him and he peaked a glance at you just to catch you checking him out.
In any other time he would use that to make the other person nervous, but in this case, your case, was just different. He knew you were smart enough to quickly throw a comeback, and even if it wasn’t a very strong one, you had the power to make him giggle with anything you said and he still couldn’t understand that.
“Are you serious? Cranberry juice?” You snatched at him, passing your nose over the glass he previously had in his hand, completely ignoring his silent request. “This is what kids drink.” You chuckled.
He raised an eyebrow, placing his arm on the back of the sofa and cupping his cheek on his hand, expectant to hear your thoughts.
“I understand if drinking isn’t your hit, but there are so much better things to drink, you know?” You said as you turned to him, returning your gaze to his eyes.
“Like what?” He played along with you, a roguish tone dancing in his voice, low and taunting. You noticed how his eyes traveled from you to the arm's length of empty space between you, clearly bothered by it. “Something like that?” He loosely pointed out the drink in your hand, the one offered to you earlier.
“I mean, this has alcohol, but yeah,” You responded, you knew what was probably coming next but you still let it continue.
He smirked, beautifully, godly and unreal. He was the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, the type of person that leaves you awestruck with his beautiful, ethereal presence. And you had him in front of you, talking to you so casually, so willing to do what you said that made you annoyed.
It took your breath away to think how far you could take it.
“I wouldn’t mind trying it.” His calm voice silenced the techno music blasting your ears. You reached your hand towards one of the cocktails on the table, but he stopped you, “No, I want to try that one.” His gaze layed on the glass held by your fingers.
When he told you he wanted to share a drink you didn’t expect to be literal.
“All three drinks are the same,” You clarified, the corners of your mouth curling up but freezing the moment the white-haired man slid across the sofa towards you in one motion.
The fresh, mannish scent of his perfume made its way into your nostrils.
“But this one looks extra delicious,” he replied, watching the way your lashes brushed against your high cheekbone in disbelief. “Would taking a sip be crossing the line?” He continued talking, placing his hand on top of yours that was holding the glass, you were as surprised as he was that he dared to do so.
It took you a couple of seconds to release your grip on the glass until you were sure he had a good hold on it. You were really trying not to fall for his charms, for the sake of your situation-ship, but it was like his hands were meant to meet yours.
You watched him bring the glass to his lips, his attention never leaving your expectant eyes. You brought a hand over your heart and formed a fist as you felt the rhythm increase and beat harder when you realized your knee was brushing against his.
“Did you like it?” You forced yourself to ask, biting the inside of your cheeks trying to ignore the heat that grew after taking awareness of your contact with him.
He took the glass from his lips with a tight-lipped smile. At this point the alcohol punch should already be settling and his tongue flavoring the acid from the cranberry and lime juice. He slowly nodded at your question, trying to widen his smile but it only turned into a distorted grimace.
You let out a chuckle, his eyebrows unknitted together when you inadvertently patted him on the shoulder, “Do you want to spit it back into the glass?” You questioned, noticing how his cheeks were still puffed out.
He nodded again, quickly bringing the glass to his mouth to spit the liquid out of his mouth, not before covering the action with his free hand to not disgust you.
“Yuck…” He chirped while his facial muscles twitched, leaning towards the table to leave the glass, you were close enough to catch a hint of his perfume in the breeze he produced. Yet you got so carried away that you didn't notice when your body moved forward on its own to catch more of him.
It smelled woody, sensual and expensive.
“I like your scent.” You took the opportunity to give him a compliment when he had his back turned, a way of establishing that you had no problem with him.
You sat up straight again, nervously playing with your fingers, glancing at his profile, catching a pleased smile forming on his face.
“Thank you.” He appreciated, bringing one knee up onto the sofa as he twisted his torso to look at you again, a witty smirk warning you, “Now let me smell you.”
That hitched your breath, unsure if you heard right. “Kinky~,” You tried to tease him.
“You heard me right, don’t think I didn’t notice you sniffing me.” He laughed, sounding coming from the belly, like when children laugh and throw themselves back.
You felt the heat burn your cheeks, if it weren't for the low lighting of the place, you're sure you would be as red as a cherry. You had just been exposed by him.
“It’s only the fair!” He recalled your earlier complaint.
“What? No!” You replied with a frown, crossing your arms with your hands on the opposite shoulder as you remembered that your dress made you sweat, so you probably wouldn't smell as nice as you did in the beginning of the party. Plus, it was a ridiculous request to ask and accept.
“Why?” He asked, still with his playful tone lingering.
“Because it’s weird!” Your voice rose in exasperation, nearby couples looking at you in annoyance, causing the white-haired man to suppress a laugh when your tense expression turned into one an anxious one, wishing to stop being the center of attention.
“Well, then I could say the same about you.” Compared to you, he remained calm despite the insinuations.
Your head moved slowly from side to side, you couldn't believe how intimate the situation felt, the way his voice coaxed you, or why you were still there with him despite your own limitations.
It was clear that he was attracted to you, but you didn't understand why. He could have anyone he wanted, he could bewitch people with his mere appearance, and yet you were the person in the room he devoted his time to.
He confused you, he made you doubt yourself and your knowledge, when in your whole life you had always had everything clear and established.
You didn't know if he was a divine gift, or if he was a test of restraint.
“Come on.” He pressed on, adjusting himself in his seat, a smug grin widening in his face.
A flutter began to trot across your chest, your fingers pressed deeper into your skin, the thought of his figure near you made your body tingle.
“This is such a weird way to flirt,” You muttered, lowering your gaze to the sunglasses hanging on his shirt.
“I don’t see anyone flirting.” You heard him reply in the same low tone as yours, moving closer.
You couldn't even look him in the eyes, you were too embarrassed at the realization that you liked his attention, because you shouldn’t.
“You are stupid,” You said under an incredulous chortle, letting your arms slide down your body into your lap.
You felt guilty for keeping talking to him knowing his intentions and your reveries about the cute boy in front of you.
It wasn't entirely your fault, because although the guy you were romantically involved with was smart, attentive and average looking, but he was also kind of boring, you could never laugh with him because he never understood your jokes and he was quite judgmental.
Maybe it was just excuses, like the ones cheaters make after committing the act.
“Then let me continue being stupid,” he said, putting his arm on the edge of the sofa behind you. Your heart lifted as you felt his figure close once again, heat beginning to ignite your body.
From then on everything began to feel like it was in slow motion, from the moment you looked up and you were enchanted by his sparkling and magnetic eyes, as blue as the sea in summer, until your head leaned back without your order, opening the way for your bare neck as if you didn’t owned your body.
And you sat there, waiting for him to get close, “Am I crossing a line?” He mumbled just a palm away from your face.
“You’re about to.” You responded in the same playful tone with a bit of a warning written under lines which was forgotten the instant he made you nervously giggle when you felt his warmth breath electrify the bridge of your neck, causing your skin to prickle.
His hand was still on the side of your hip, his forearm gently brushing your waist, almost unnoticeable if it weren't for the heightened level of your senses. It was like you were trapped in a bubble, immersed in innocent intimacy.
“Am I crossing the line?” He teased you, his azure gaze connecting with yours, leaning forward just a few inches from your skin.
His malicious smirk spread across his face, making you roll your eyes at his mischief. He was too cheeky, too cocky.
You felt so hot, both because of the temperature of the place and the situation. He laughed, confident and amused by the situation. Having him close, led you to notice that he was as tipsy as you.
You looked up at the ceiling to try to ignore the reasonably strange looks from the people around you, although you could still get a sight of the man's whitish hair at the corner of your eyes.
It didn't take long for you to feel his nose touching and sniff the crook of your neck, hitching your breath, “Am I crossing the line now?” He whispered, sending a goosebump through your spine. You slowly shook your head, trying to keep your hand on your lap and not brushing with your fingers his hair that looked so silky and shiny, that even from a distance it was easy to detect the smell of his shampoo.
Then his touch traveled from your cleavage to the crease of your armpit and you quickly pushed him back with a hand on his chest, he immediately bursted out laughing.
“What is wrong with you?!” You scolded him, smacking him in the chest, dying of embarrassment. Your face burned hotter than you'd ever felt before, your nose and cheeks itched and burned as if a bucket of boiling water had been thrown on you.
He was lying on his shoulders, his chest going up and down with each laugh he let out, you could distinguish his abdomen contracting even through his shirt.
“M’ sorry! Sorry, ” He apologized amidst giggles, trying to sit up, one of his hands traveling to your wrist when you tried to stand up. “Just so you know- you didn’t smell bad at all.” You stood up again with your back to him, but he pulled you back and turned you around, plopping down on the couch again, “In fact, you smelled like really good.” He promised now seated properly.
His jeering voice had faded into a convincing sweet one, with puppy eyes and all.
“Don’t go.”
You should, but didn’t want to.
“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, well- I did want to annoy you but because that’s the only way you look me in the eyes with your eyebrows furrowed and a little pout.” He started chattering, desperate to explain himself.
Your eyes traveled to his grip on your wrist, just tight enough to keep you close without hurting you, one of his fingers slowly massaging the palm of your hand to calm you down. “You command.”
You looked up again, now watching him lick his plump pink lips. Your breathing was labored, your thighs were pressed together, and your free hand was squeezing your knee.
Something inside you felt minisculely change, your gaze joined with his felt heavier and more connected than before, it was as if you could feel him deep in your chest, like a knot that you couldn't swallow.
“Is your heart racing?” He asked you in a breath, his hand twitched against your skin.
“How do you know that?” Your breath was trapped, trying to climb up your rib cage, sending a burning ache you couldn’t let out.
“Well, because mine is,” He let out with a chuckle, bringing a hand to his chest and pressing it into a fist when he felt his heart was going to jump out.
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream, both at the same time. The feeling of his eyes made you feel as if you two were dancing under a spotlight in a room full of darkness.
At first you thought it was his incomparable beauty that kept you hooked on the conversation, but it was actually him, his jokes, his teasing, who made you feel like you were in a fever dream.
And he was the one who was confessing to you that his heart was racing, he was the one who looked at you like if you were a tasty meal he craved, he was the one who you would allow to pin you down on the floor just because his jokes just hit different.
He scooched over to you, his free hand laying on the side of your thigh, his thumb caressing over the cloth of your dress, trying to steal your attention out of your thoughts. And when you did, you drove your eyes to him, although you felt unable to hold his gaze, his eyes softly sparked with his pupils dilated and his grin stretched, his head tilting afterward.
Your mouth was gaped half open, being interrupted by a shy beam spreading across your face, sinking at your sight. Your body moved closer to his and you giggled, after the nervous cute rant the man in front of you threw, now you couldn’t deny to yourself that he was genuinely interested in you. Unthought-of words were about to spill out of your mouth.
“Gojo!” Gojo?
A loud, rigid voice broke the moment, whisking away your low guard, walls starting to build up again. By inertia you removed your hand from his grip.
“Satoru Gojo!” Satoru? “You have erased any non-existent respect I had for you.”
The white-haired man paled, his expression twisted as he slowly turned towards the voice marching angrily towards your way.
“Nanamin- ouch!” The man in front of you standed, trying to defend himself two seconds before being flicked in the forehead. Your eyes went wide.
“You prick, do you know how important the man you promised to invite a drink is?” A stoic voice coming from a muscular body spoke. You knew him, blond hair, prominent cheekbones and deep eye bags due to overwork. “Y/n…” His hard expression faded when he noticed your presence.
Kento Nanami, you were colleagues in the same branch, he was transferred from the Japanese company no more than two months ago.
“Hey,” You greeted him with a sheepish smile, standing immediately when he addressed you.
His hazel eyes analyzed you and then the man in front of you, well, Satoru Gojo, now you knew his name.
“You know each other?” Satoru questioned, adding himself in the conversation, one eyebrow raised mistrustfully, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“I didn’t know you hung out with people of his kind.” The blonde man told you, straightening his tie, embarrassed that you saw the stiff demeanor he specifically saved for Gojo, who Nanami looked up and down.
“My kind?” The white-haired man whined, a hand on his chest exaggerating his offended feelings. “How do you know each other?” He pressed, masking a smile, trying to step closer to you but ineffectively succeeding through being pulled by the collar of his jacket by the other man.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you, y/n.” Nanami turned to you, his friendly tone returning with a subtle smile. “But our flight back to Japan leaves in less than eight hours and we still have to apologize for ditching an executive and finish packing.”
“Wait-” Satoru called.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The blond man apologized, pushing his companion away.
“No, Nanamin-” He was cut again.
Your gaze tried to pay attention to Nanami but Satoru's voice stole your attention, leaving your stomach in knots from the rush. The white-haired man who was constantly covered by his colleague tried to connect his gaze with yours, the urgency to find a way to contact you again grew in him.
“We shall go.” Nanami quickly said goodbye, pushing Satoru into the sea of people again, you tried to keep up with them. But you got stuck in a crowd of unknown people, you didn't even had the chance to stop them, to say goodbye to him.
A sudden, despondent weight fell upon you. That newly found harmony had been overwritten, you were left with a disjointed heartbeat and unfinished confessions. You felt as if you had been thrown into the driest and hottest desert, accompanied by a withered hope.
You sat down in the first seat you found, your legs feeling devastated not only by tiredness, but also by the fact that you actually got carried away by a conversation with someone whose name you didn't know. You never had experienced this, what should you do? You weren’t sure if you should even look into the matter further. You wanted to think that it was meant to end like this anyway, after all that was the agreement, just a quick chat over a drink.
Your stomach felt queasy, although that was probably due to the alcohol you had ingested.
What ifs came to your mind, what if even after all Satoru was actually playing? Nanami said ‘his kind’, what kind? A player? You didn’t believe that was the case, still, it wouldn’t surprise you if it was.
But, what if everything was truly heart-felt? What if the mesmerizing glimmer of his eyes when he soft-spoke to you was sincere? That damn drowning blue eyes, mocking pearly-white smirk, face carved by the gods and purring delirious voice.
You buried your head in your hands and lost count of the time you spent replaying the memories of the night in your head over and over again, every look, every touch, every breath taken.
You deep in thought scolding yourself at how ridiculously pathetic you were for giving so much importance to an interaction that you didn't know if your thoughts intensified the relevance when someone tapped your shoulder.
“Y/n.” Someone sweetly whispered.
When you raised your head you saw Akira in front of you, a pleased smile on her face. She didn't even knew the reason why you were melted in your seat alone but she could assume it was because you followed her advice.
“It’s time to go home.” She continued saying. You covered your eyes with one hand to block out the radiance of the lights, you didn't even notice when the place began to empty.
“Okay,” You accepted, getting up from your spot, the woman in front of you linked her arms with you to give you support, now the liquor had hit you properly. “My head hurts.” You complained.
“Wait ‘till tomorrow, it will get worse.” She laughed as you growled.
You both walked to the reception to pick up your jackets and bags and then went out to the entrance of the place, watching the cars passing by on the street, not taking long to find Akira's husband's car, who greeted you from the driver's seat.
Akira helped you get into the back seat and then climbed into the passenger seat, you quickly closed your eyes and leaned your head back. You heard her ask if you were okay and you just nodded, taking a sip of the water she offered you.
Your mind was no longer worried about giving the direction of your apartment because they already knew the way from the times you invited them to eat dinner, now you could agonize in peace of mind while you fell asleep.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature, your consciousness was about to turn off when a 'ding' woke you up, you grimaced at it and tried to go back to sleep, since the ride to your house was long, but the same sound rang out again.
You turned on your phone screen and the notification bubble returned energy to your body.
Nanami (work):
Satoru Gojo
Create new contact / Add to existing contact
You scrolled down the messages and it was an attached photo, you clicked on it and zoomed it, it was a photo of Gojo asleep in the Uber, your lips curved up when you saw how angelic he looked when he wasn't acting like a jerk, his long eyelashes curled when they reached his high cheekbones and his hair looked more disheveled than when you met at the beginning of the night.
The photo had a description on the foot.
Nanami (work): I just send you his contact. If you're really going to give him a chance, do it soon because he whined until he fell asleep about how I sabotaged his chance with a ‘baddie’.
You couldn't help but laugh at Nanami's message and his sincerity. I made you question if he phrased it that way to help his friend or to boycott him. Even so, a relief began to drain your dreadful thoughts from your body, as if that revelation canceled all your personal issues to resolve.
And It did, a little, because deep down you knew that what you lived was real, that the way he saw you was how you supposed, that everytime he tastes cranberry juice he’ll think of you.
But what you didn't know was that you left quite an impression, and that you enchanted him and became the reason his heart pounds even if you're not around.
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hi guys!!! I saw a tiktok of a girl who said she wanted to read something about satoru with sabrina’s song bed quem so I worked on it. please tell me if this funny or weird because wrote it in the lapse of 3 weeks and idk how to feel about it. Pls share your thoughts xoxo
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undercovercameron · 1 year ago
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sunspent
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summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.
notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3
tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader
word count: 2542
The whole day had been perfect. 
You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck. 
The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much. 
Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you. 
The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you. 
It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms. 
“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”
You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight. 
“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)
“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig. 
“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty. 
“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”
“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.
“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”
You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist. 
“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean. 
You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer. 
“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser. 
“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever. 
“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face. 
“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him. 
“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”
He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make. 
“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders. 
“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”
“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man. 
“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down. 
This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes. 
Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps. 
“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes. 
“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it. 
“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.  
“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close. 
“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side. 
He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way. 
“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish. 
He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately. 
His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it. 
“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it. 
His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again. 
“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”
You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit. 
“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt. 
“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could— but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be. 
“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree. 
You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no. 
Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth. 
“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”
“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins. 
This time you can and do roll your eyes. 
“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”
Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly. 
“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild. 
“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”
“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick. 
He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist. 
You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly. 
It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.
His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken. 
Exactly what you’d imagined. 
“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips. 
His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips. 
You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride. 
It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work. 
You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work. 
“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours. 
You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek. 
The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time. 
“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark. 
He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you. 
You know you’ll have bruises there. 
You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.
Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting. 
At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much. 
Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood. 
“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body. 
His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling. 
“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath. 
He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god. 
The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there. 
He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill. 
“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat. 
“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat. 
Yeah, drive-up it is.
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