#and i said it so casually and i saw her eyebrows raise REALLY hard and thats when i realized and i was just like ok put a pin in it

[milatiny-xx]

the day you ruined me | k.hj

pairing: kim hongjoong x gn!reader summary: while heading home from work one night, you run into your ex, hongjoong, and all the terrible memories of your painful breakup flash before your eyes. but hongjoong isn't ready to let you go so easily. tags: ex!hongjoong, mild hurt/comfort, make outttt, PDA, caught in the rain trope wc: 3.1k a/n: help why can't i write anything ateez without making them HOR NEE??? also tell me why every time i read HJ's name i hear it in my head as "hongjoong-ahhh" like how wooyoung said it all creepy in that one salary lupin episode?? why is it so funny to me x

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

Thanking the cashier, you take the to-go bag from her and drop a couple of coins into the tip jar before heading outside. The temperature has dropped a little and the clouds are starting to roll in overhead.

Great. Rain. Just your luck after a long, hard day at the office. You just want to go home, eat dinner, and watch your drama without being interrupted for two whole hours.

Your stomach grumbles as you walk down the familiar Seoul streets toward your apartment building. Opening up the paper bag, you fish for a piece of bread that you can eat on your walk. Your frustration grows as your fingers dig around in the bag without finding what you're searching for. Clicking your tongue, you peer down into it to see better.

You slam into something solid and stumble back a step, accidentally dropping your food on the ground.

"Ohhhh," you whine.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," a voice sounds—clearly the source of whoever you bumped into. "That was completely my fault."

You crouch down to grab your food, your fingers knocking against the stranger's. You lift your head to tell the stranger that you got it covered. But, you gasp as you meet his gaze.

No, it can't be...

"J-Joongie?" you mutter, eyes wide.

His eyebrows raise, a slight smile tugging at his cheeks.

"Y/N?" he replies, laughing sweetly.

You almost smile back, the urge tightening in your chest. But you see your reflection through his dark eyes and suddenly everything comes back to you. You press your lips into a tight line, dropping your gaze and hurrying to pick up your bag. You stand with every intention of brushing past him before he can protest, but he follows your movements.

"Ah, it's really you! Wow, I can't tell you how happy I am to see you," he says, that stupid handsome smile still plastered on his face.

"Yeah, uh...it's been a while."

"It has. Almost eight months."

You notice the way the corners of his mouth twitch, his smile faltering for the briefest of moments. You have always been able to see past Hoongjoong's mask better than others.

"So, uh, how have you been?" he continues.

You clench your jaw, skin itching for an escape route.

"Fine. Busy. How are you doing?"

"Good. Busy, too. But good. ATEEZ is doing really well."

"Yeah, I saw you performed at Coachella. That's...big."

"Yeah, yeah it was amazing. We feel very lucky to have gotten to do it."

Awkward silence settles between you. Your eyes lock onto everything around you aside from his gaze. You wait a couple more seconds before clearing your throat.

"Well, I should get going. I'd like to beat this storm home. It was nice to see you...Hongjoong."

Your heart aches at the pang of hurt that flashes across Hongjoong's face at your use of his full name. But he recovers quickly.

"No, of course. Sorry again for bumping into you. I should pay more attention to where I'm walking. I'll see you around?"

You smile tightly at him and respectfully bow your head, a traditional honorific gesture that you haven't done to Joongie in ages. It feels a bit strange and stilted, especially considering how comfortable and casual you had been when you were dating.

Memories breeze through your mind—him bringing you coffee in the mornings, him wrapping his arms around your waist while you cooked, the way he pet your hair while you slept at night, that thing he did with his teeth on your neck...

You shake your head.

You step to his side to pass him, squeezing your eyes shut in relief as you leave him and all those painful memories behind once again.

"Ah, hey, Y/N." You wince, pausing to glance over your shoulder at him. "Would you...do you want to maybe get something to eat?"

You blink blankly, holding up the bag of food.

"I...already have food, actually. But thank you. I appreciate the invitation."

You go to turn away again but he blurts out, "Sure, well, I-I don't have to eat. I can just sit with you. An-and we could...you know, talk."

Your heart lurches, a dull aching ricocheting through your chest. You harden your jaw and will yourself to be strong and definitely not to cry. You heave a deep breath and shake your head.

"With all due respect, Hongjoong, I don't think we have anything to talk about. I think it would just be best if we pretended this never happened and go back to the way things were. I'm sorry."

With that, you clutch your to go bag and force yourself to walk. You need to get home now before you break down in the middle of the street.

"Okay," your head snaps to the side as Hongjoong slides up beside you, "then I'll talk and you just listen."

"What? That's ridiculous. No."

"Why is it ridiculous? Look, I understand that you might not want to talk to me. Believe me, I get it. But I have some things that I'd really like to say to you."

You scoff and look at him incredulously.

"No, obviously you don't get it. If you got it, you wouldn't be suggesting any of this. I can't talk to you. I don't want to talk to you, and I don't want to listen either. If you have something to say, you should have said it to me that day in the park."

"I know. I know I should have. I just wasn't ready then. But I am now."

You skid to a stop, your face screwing up with emotion. Your heart pounds in your chest, so loud that it clogs your ears. The familiar sting of tears burns your eyes, but you blink them away.

"No," you hiss through gritted teeth. "No, you don't get to do this to me. You don't get to make me feel like this. You did it to me before, and you're doing it now."

"Doing what?" he asks. He steps closer, instinctively reaching out for your hands. His eyebrows knit, and his sweet brown eyes search yours frantically.

"Hurting me!" you shout. "After the park, I told myself that I would never, ever let someone make me feel the way you did that day. Do you have any idea how badly that hurt?"

His face screws up, eyes squeezing shut.

Thunder cracks in the distance, as if the sky itself knows how you feel inside. Rain drops start to spatter on the pavement.

"I know, I know I hurt you, but I-"

"You could write it on birthday cards to your mother, you could say it in the sign off of every vlog you ever made, you could sing it to ten thousand Atinys. But you couldn't say it to me?"

Your voice cracks as memories from that day in the park flow through you.

Two years. You'd been with Hongjoong for two whole years, in secret of course to protect both of your careers and families from the press. It was your anniversary, and you had agreed to meet in a secluded part of the park for a picnic. The weather was gorgeous, and you had spent all day cooking and baking a delicious feast for your man.

You got dressed up all nice and did your hair special for him. You had been waiting for him to say those little words everyone dreams of hearing from the love of their life—I love you. As you sat in the park under a cherry blossom tree, you could hardly contain your excitement.

Then, he was late. An hour late. You could forgive that. You understood that schedules sometimes ran behind. Being the leader of an up and coming k-pop group couldn't have been easy. But when he did finally show up, he was still in his clothes from the studio. He hadn't even bothered to fix his hair or dry off his sweat. He seemed rushed, he was on his phone for half the date, and those three little words were never even a whisper.

You couldn't take it anymore. You flipped over your plate, spilling food all over the blanket. Hongjoong had scolded you, sending you into a fit of rage. You yelled, he yelled, and the argument ended with you asking him if he even loved you. If he ever had. You could never understand the reason why he couldn't say it to you. But, in that moment, he was silent and that silence told you everything you needed to know. That was the last time you'd seen him.

A hot tear streaks down your face. You are way embarrassed to be crying in public. Momentarily forgetting about your food, you reach up to wipe the tears away. The to go bag hits the ground and tips over, some of your dinner falling out.

"Oh, shit..." you gasp, the tears welling up faster. You stare at the food helplessly. Hongjoong glances at you and then crouches, reaching to salvage what he could. The emotion hits you hard, making you curl your fingers into fists.

"Look what you did!" you shout. "Ruined my dinner, ruined my day, ruined my life. Ruined me for anyone else but you."

"Oh no, don't say that," he responds, dropping the food and standing up. His pleading eyes peer into yours. "Please don't say I ruined you."

"Well, you did! You spoiled everything, and I wish I had never met you!"

On cue, the clouds let loose. Rain starts to pour all around  you. Panicked and distraught, your eyes travel across the street and land on the park. Without a second thought, you take off running toward it. You can hear Hongjoong calling your name, but it only makes you run faster.

You sprint through the park, weaving this way and that way with no idea where you're actually going. You wind around a bend and stop. Out of breath, you prop yourself against the trunk of a tree. Even though the tree is blocking most of the rain, you're soaked through.

You cross your arms over your chest and curl up into a ball. Your head rests on your knees as you let yourself cry. Your entire body shakes from the combination of the cold rain and your pain. You have no idea how long you sit there under that tree, letting yourself feel all of the emotions that you've shoved down from before.

"Y/N! Ah, thank God."

You curl tighter at the sound of Hongjoong's voice. Did you want him to come after you? You aren't sure...

"I was worried I wouldn't be able to find you," he continues, coming to crouch down next to you. "Are you okay? Ach, you're freezing, and you're soaked to the bone. Come on, get up. We need to get you inside before you catch a cold."

His hands slide around your body, but you shove him away. He stumbles back for a moment, pressing his lips into a tight line. He gives you a second before he tries again. You push him away, thumping your fist against his chest.

"Stop," you whine. "I don't want you to help me. Just leave me alone. Why can't you just leave me alone? Even when you're not here, I see you all over the place. Stupid ATEEZ. I see you on tv, magazine stands, billboards. I'm so sick of your stupid face. Why does it still hurt so bad?"

You can feel him staring at you. After several moments, he reaches forward toward your head. Your hands instinctively come up to block him, and you glare at him.

"I'm just moving your hair out of your face, that's all," he says, tone quiet and calm. You hesitate but lower your hands, allowing him to rake his fingers through your roots, pushing your hair from your forehead. When finished, he lifts his hands to show you he's harmless. "There, see."

Most of your anger melts at his softness.

"I'm sorry," he says, looking directly into your eyes. "I know I can never say it enough, but I am sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't say it. I'm sorry that I never did. I'm sorry I didn't show it. You do know that don't you?"

Of course, you do. When he's serious, Hongjoong's eyes are focused and unwavering. He looks at you, and he barely blinks. You nod.

"Can I touch you?"

You know you should say no. But your body moves before you can control it. You nod again. A moment of relief washes over his face, and he kneels by your side. His palm slides onto your cheek. You track his eyes as his gaze follows his hand's movements. He tucks your hair behind your ear, petting it like he used to every night. His eyes flick to yours.

"I love you," he says, voice firm and even. He accentuates every word.

Your eyes widen, mouth trembling.

"What?"

"I love you."

"I...thought you couldn't say it."

He chuckles bitterly.

"Of course, I can say it."

"But do you mean it?"

"I do. I love you," he repeats, looking at you with those determined eyes. "I always have."

"Then why didn't you say it before?"

"I was afraid. I've never felt about anyone the way I do about you. It was starting to scare me. If you didn't love me back, I...I didn't know what I would do without you. I was going to say it, that day. I really was, but then everything just got so messed up. I was so busy with ATEEZ, and I was stressed out of my mind. I wanted to do it right, to make it special. And I didn't think I could then. So, I didn't and then screwed everything up anyway. Like I always do."

"No," you say, raising your fingers to his jaw. His skin is frozen and water drips from his hair, rolling down his forehead and off the tip of his nose. "You don't screw everything up. You're stronger than you think, Joongie. You've always been a leader. And I know I wasn't good at supporting you and understanding but-"

"No, no you were wonderful. You were everything that I needed. I was the problem. Even if I didn't feel like I could say it, I still should have shown it. And I wasn't. I wasn't showing you. But I want to now."

His thumb slides across your cheek, back and forth, back and forth.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Hongjoong says softly. "But I need you to help me now."

"Help you what?" you whisper.

"Help me show you, prove to you how much I love you. What can I do? Tell me, and I'll do it for you."

"Stay with me. Stay and be honest. Be here when it's hard — not just when it's easy. Talk to me. Hold me. Touch me. Just...just be with me when you can. And when you can't, tell me that."

He releases a sigh, nodding resolutely. He offers a small smile and angles his head like an affectionate puppy.

"Okay. I'll do it."

"Are you sure? Because if you don't want to, we can jus-"

"Yes. I'm positive."

He smiles, raising his lips to your forehead. He places a gentle peck there before pulling back to look at you.

"Come on," he continues. "Let's get you out of this rain."

He stands and holds his hands out for you to take. You accept them, and he helps you up. You expect him to release your hands but his grip tightens instead. Your eyes widen.

"Actually..." His eyes flick to your lips and then back up to your eyes. "I can do part of what I promised right now."

"Hm?"

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, stepping forward. You gasp as his body pushes you against the tree behind you. Slightly panicked, you glance around to look for people who might be able to see you. You seem to be alone right now but anybody could walk past and snap a scandalous photo.

"Hongjoong, we're in public," you say frantically.

His fingers attach to your jaw, turning you to face him. You go limp under his heated gaze. He angles your face up, smirking devilishly.

"And? Didn't I just promise to show you how much I love you? And didn't you ask me to touch you?"

"Well...yes, but..." you reply sheepishly, feeling your face heat despite the cold rain.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours. Your breath hitches, and you close your eyes.

"Then let me show you," he whispers, his warm breath ghosting over your mouth.

Your lips part in anticipation, your body seeming to remember the way your Joongie always touched you so nicely. The second you feel the pressure of his mouth on yours, you relax. Your fingers claw at his shirt, wet and cold, grabbing onto the fabric by his hips. His hand snakes around the back of your head, and his face tilts to deepen the kiss.

The weight of his body feels so good on top of yours as it pins you back against the tree. He moves his free hand to brace himself on the trunk, his arm straightened next to your head. His tongue traces your lower lip, and you immediately open for him. You moan quietly onto his mouth at the feeling of his tongue tangling with yours. Rainwater from your hair and faces drips across your mouths, sweetening the kiss and making it more slippery than normal.

God, you've missed this...him.

A crack of thunder sounds, reminding you that you're outside in the middle of a thunderstorm. You gently tap his chest. Hongjoong pulls away, eyes flashing open in concern. Your heart races in your chest.

"How about you come back with me? To my place?" you suggest breathlessly.

His eyes widen, his head bobbing forward to do a double-take.

"Really? Now?"

You peek at his lips, red and already a little swollen. You release his shirt, sliding your palms onto his torso. You can feel his muscles through the wet shirt, clinging for dear life onto his form.

"Now," you confirm. "And, um...how about you do that thing with your teeth that I like?"

His eyes sparkle, a smirk tugging at his mouth. He nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, yeah, I wanna do that. I wanna do that now. But first," he cups your face with both of his hands, looking adoringly into your eyes, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

You smile. It feels full circle, so fitting that it should happen in the park. A year ago you were sobbing and breaking up, vowing to never set eyes on Kim Hongjoong again. Now, all you want to do is stare into his eyes while he says those three words, over and over and over again.

taglist: @rileylovescats @wooyoungsbrat

[ay4tou]

Hello, you can write about the reader who is Goo's sister. And Gun only knows that Goo also has a younger sister (through Goo's story) and has never met her. When Gun left important documents there (namely Goo's apartment and Goo was not at the apartment) But can someone who opens the door for Gun be Goo's sister? Anyway I saw this idea above character a.i

Sorry my English is bad

the devil and his sister | gun park x goo's sister!reader

summary: gun stops by goo's place for some documents, but of all the people he expected, it wasn't his coworker's sister.

author's notes: .......heeyyy 😁 whats up yall...! 🤗😇 (im so sorry i cant believe i left you guys hanging for months 😭) | masterlist

Gun stood in front of Goo’s apartment door, his patience wearing thin. He had left behind critical documents during his last visit, telling Goo to come get it for him, but Goo’s constant antics had been especially irritating that day, and he didn't even hear what Gun said.

He rang the doorbell, expecting no one to answer. Goo was out of town. Gun had confirmed it himself.

He kept a spare key to Goo’s apartment just in case.

This would be quick: Open the door, get the files he needed. Leave.

That's it. It wouldn't be so hard, would it?

Right?

Right?!

But before he could reach for it, the door swung open.

The door opened, and his plan abruptly shifted.

A woman stood there, looking at him with equal curiosity and suspicion. The resemblance was unmistakable.

“...You’re not Goo."

“No shit.” you replied, crossing your arms. “And you must be Gun.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You know me?”

“Goo talks. A lot.” you said dryly, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m his sister. He told me you might swing by.”

Gun stepped inside without hesitation, his sharp gaze taking in the apartment.

“You live here?” he asked, his voice low as his eyes scanned the room.

“Not permanently." you said, shutting the door behind him. “I’m just visiting while he’s gone. Someone’s got to make sure this place doesn’t burn down.”

He nodded once, striding to the table where the folder sat.

Normally, he would immediately leave after that, but he just couldn't.

“You’re not what I expected.” he said after a moment of hesitation, glancing at you.

You tilted your head, a grin very similar to Goo's tugging at your lips. “What were you expecting?”

“Someone... more like him.” Gun replied, his tone unreadable.

You laughed softly, the sound surprisingly warm. “Really? I actually don't think we're that different. But yeah, I get that a lot. Guess he didn’t tell you much about me, then.”

Gun didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied you, noting your facial features and demeanor. You weren’t loud like Goo, so plus points for a positive trait you didn't get from that madman.

“I didn’t think Goo had a sister.” he said finally, a hint of curiosity slipping into his voice.

“Figures." you replied. “He doesn’t exactly talk about family much, does he? Not that I blame him.”

Gun’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he straightened, his presence filling the space. “I’ll be going now.”

You moved to the door, leaning casually against the frame as he approached. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

Gun paused, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I don’t waste words.”

You smirked at that, your expression somewhere between amused and intrigued. “Goo said you were all work and no play. Guess he was right.”

Gun’s lips twitched slightly, almost forming a smirk. “He doesn’t know as much as he thinks.

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could reply, Gun turned toward the door.

“Next time, I’ll just knock." he said over his shoulder, his tone calm but deliberate.

He stepped out of the apartment, the folder in hand, but your presence stayed with him longer than he expected.

[kbunzzi2oa]

Something Like Us -> L.Heeseung and S.Jaeyun....

Pairings -> Bff!Heeseung × Crush!Jake × Fem!Reader...

Contains -> Fluff, love triangle(?), small angst, a bit of suggestive, kisses, hugs, comforting, heeseung confesses, if I missed anything LET ME KNOWW

W.C -> 5k-9k-ish?

Synopsis: You like the cute nerd in your physics class, Jake..But your best friend heeseung likes you, and Jake doesn't..what will happen when you found out the truth?

Nef notes: HEY EVERYONE, SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE AGAIN, I HAVE TO MANY TEST AND PROJECTS COMING UP 😔 BUT I STILL COME TO DELIVERED. THIS LITTLE STORY IS A THOUGHT FROM @samluvikue

You’d never been the type to fall fast. At least, that’s what you used to believe.

But then there was Jake.

Jake Sim. Golden boy of your university’s marketing department, casual heartthrob, part-time barista, full-time charmer. He had that kind of laugh that could melt glaciers, eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and a voice that made you forget what you were saying mid-sentence. And when he talked to you—really talked to you, it felt like you were the only girl on the planet.

So yeah. You fell. Hard.

The worst part? He liked someone else.

And the absolute worst part? You told your best friend everything.

Heeseung knew. Of course he knew. He always knew. He listened through every overanalyzed text, every accidental brush of Jake’s hand, every meaningless smile that meant everything to you. He nodded, hummed, sometimes laughed when you got too dramatic. But mostly… he just watched you. Quietly. Patiently.

Because Heeseung wasn’t just your best friend. He was in love with you.

You just didn’t know it yet.

It started like this:

"He's totally into her," you groaned, collapsing onto the couch in your shared apartment. Heeseung didn’t even look up from his laptop.

“Who?”

You gave him a look. “Jake.”

Heeseung closed his laptop with a sigh. “And who’s ‘her’ this time?”

You frowned. “That girl from psych. The one with the glitter pens. I saw them walking together. She laughed at something he said, and he looked at her like—ugh, it doesn’t even matter.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “You sure he wasn’t just… talking?”

You shot him a glare. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see the way he smiled.”

Heeseung leaned back, arms behind his head. “Maybe he smiles like that at everyone.”

“No,” you said quietly. “He doesn’t.”

Heeseung went silent for a moment, studying your face. The sadness in your eyes. The way your lips trembled slightly when you thought no one was looking.

He hated seeing you like this.

Over the next few weeks, Heeseung watched you spiral.

Every time Jake passed you on campus, your breath hitched. Every time he texted, you lit up. And every time he mentioned another girl—especially her—you deflated.

Heeseung wanted to scream.

Instead, he bought your favorite snacks. He stayed up with you watching stupid rom-coms. He helped you cram for exams and listened when you cried after Jake posted a picture with someone else.

He never said a word about how his heart twisted every time you said Jake’s name.

But one night, he snapped.

It was raining. You were drunk. Jake had ignored your texts. Again.

Heeseung had found you crying on the steps outside a party, your dress soaked, your mascara smeared.

“He didn’t even come,” you whispered, shivering. “He said he would.”

Heeseung didn’t hesitate. He took off his jacket, wrapped it around you, and pulled you into his arms.

“Let’s go home.”

You clung to him the whole way back, silent tears soaking his shirt.

And once you were dry, warm, and curled up in bed, he sat next to you and finally said it.

“You deserve better, y/n.”

Your eyes met his, red and raw. “Like who?”

His jaw tightened. “Like me.”

Silence.

The room buzzed with it.

“What?”

Heeseung didn’t repeat himself. He just looked at you—really looked at you—like he was memorizing your face in case this was the last time he’d get to be this close.

“I’m not saying it to pressure you,” he said quietly. “I just needed you to know.”

You blinked, stunned.

Then you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Heeseung nodded, stood, and left your room without another word.

Things changed after that.

You didn’t talk about it. You tried to act normal. But it lingered—between coffee runs and study sessions, in the quiet moments when your fingers brushed and you pulled away too fast.

Jake, of course, remained oblivious.

But you… you started noticing things.

The way Heeseung always carried an extra charger for you. How he never complained when you vented for hours. How his gaze always lingered just a second longer than it should.

You started to wonder.

Then one night, Jake kissed someone at a party.

You saw it.

You didn’t cry.

You just turned around and walked straight home.

And when Heeseung opened the door to your apartment, you didn’t say a word.

You just kissed him.

It was soft at first. Hesitant. Your lips brushing his like a question. Heeseung froze, wide-eyed, unsure if he was dreaming.

Then he kissed you back.

It was slow. Gentle. Months—no, years—of unspoken feelings pouring out through trembling lips and desperate fingers. You pulled him closer. He cupped your face like you were something precious.

It didn’t go further that night. Not yet.

You fell asleep in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t dream about Jake.

The shift was subtle.

You still saw Jake in class. You still smiled, waved. But your heart didn’t race the same way. And when he texted, you didn’t obsess over every word.

Because Heeseung started taking up space in your mind. In your chest. In your bed, eventually.

The first time you made love, it was slow.

Heeseung worshipped you—hands reverent, kisses deep, his breath shaky with restraint. He didn’t rush. He wanted you to feel everything. To know what it meant.

“You sure?” he whispered, hovering over you.

You nodded. “I want this. I want you.”

Heeseung groaned softly, burying his face in your neck as he slid inside you, inch by aching inch.

You gasped—half pain, half bliss.

His lips found yours again. “I’ve waited so long.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

He made love to you like it was the first and last time. And when you came undone beneath him, moaning his name, he whispered, “I love you.”

And this time… you didn’t say sorry.

You whispered it back.

Weeks passed. Things got easier. Lighter.

You laughed more. Slept better. Smiled at Heeseung’s stupid jokes even when they weren’t funny. You held hands in the dining hall. Kissed in the back row of lecture halls.

Jake noticed, eventually.

One afternoon, he cornered you outside the library.

“So,” he said casually, “you and Heeseung?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about us?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Didn’t know you two were, uh… like that.”

You smiled. “Yeah. We are.”

Jake looked surprised. Then, slowly, he smiled too.

“I’m happy for you.”

And you realized, for the first time, that you meant it when you said you didn’t love Jake anymore.

Because you were in love with Heeseung.

And maybe… you had been for a long time.

One night, months later, you sat on the roof of your apartment building, watching the stars. Heeseung sat beside you, legs stretched out, fingers laced with yours.

“I used to think you’d never see me,” he murmured.

You looked at him. “I always saw you, Heeseung. I just didn’t realize what I was looking at.”

He turned to you, his gaze soft. “I would’ve waited forever.”

You smiled, heart full. “You didn’t have to.”

He kissed you—slow and sweet, like the start of something beautiful.

Because it was.

Something like friendship. Something like fate.

Something like love.

Something like you and Heeseung.

[pelaajanifta]

«The Shining Zone»

So here are two of my stalker OCs enjoying a view in Pripyat! A freedomer and a noontider. They climbed up the ferris wheel and saw something incredible... There's a little story behind the artwork if you're enjoying small stories 🤭

Freedomer glanced up nervously. The endlessly gray sky loomed above his head, partially obscured by the bulky structure of the Ferris wheel with its yellow cabins. A crushing feeling settled in his chest, and his throat suddenly went dry.

“So you’re saying there’s an anomalous zone up there where we can see Pripyat the way the Zone herself sees it. Right?” his question came out a little strained. He tried to make it sound deliberately casual.

”That’s right, Guide”, she answered calmly. Her suit was the same dull gray as the sky, marked with a “Noontide” patch. “You just quoted me word by word”.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem like an inspiring idea anymore. Guide scratched the back of his neck.

“But how are we supposed to get up there?” He weighed the option of backing off, turning away, even proposing to sit in that creepy rusted bumper car surrounded by electrical anomalies. Receive an electric shock, sure – but anything suddenly felt better than climbing up there.

”I’ll help you.”

“How? Gonna drag me up there by force, digging up old memories, huh, Snow?” He chuckled, but his voice trembled slightly.

Snow didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

“You go first, I’ll guide you. I’ll tell you where to place your feet. Come on. It’s not as scary as you think.”

“Not as scary as I think, yeah right,” Guide repeated in his mind as the structure beneath his feet wobbled. Step by step, one small motion at a time.

He climbed.

“Don’t look down,” her voice came from below. Was she really not afraid of anything?

”Yeah, yeah!”

“Grab that ledge. Just like that. Now pull yourself up, and stretch your right leg toward that metal bar. Yes, that one. Yeah, it takes some flexibility. Come on. You won’t regret it once you’re up there.”

“Got it!”

“I won’t regret it once I’m up there,” he repeated in his head, again, cursing like a madman. Guide gripped a beam tightly, like his life depended on it, and paused to catch his breath. He looked around. They were only halfway up, but he could already see far more than he expected – rooftops, treetops. He wondered how fast he’d have climbed if a bloodsucker was chasing him right now.

“We’re not done yet. Now move right, along that branch,” Snow nudged his calf lightly with her finger, reminding him to focus. Freedomer pulled himself up again. Yeah, this was a decent strength workout, this climb. Might even get his biceps pumped. He noted to himself to straighten his shoulders too.

“You’d fit right in with Freedom. People there go on all kinds of crazy trips too. And green suits you.”

”Don’t get distracted,” she replied, but he heard a smile in her voice.

Guide focused on moving his hands and feet correctly. Somewhere in the distance, pseudodogs barked. Probably fighting over a piece of pseudoflesh. “Having a pseudo-brawl,” the Freedomer joked to himself. Too bad Snow didn’t get jokes. Not anymore.

“Now comes the hard part,” she said from behind him. “Step onto the beam and jump.”

“What? Ha-ha, down there, you mean?” The mere idea of letting go even for a second sent ice through his veins. He fixed his gaze on the cabin, just to avoid accidentally looking down. The structure swayed; his legs shook.

”Alright,” Guide couldn’t see what Snow did, but her voice was suddenly right behind him. “Take my hand and stand up.”

He did as he was told – her grip was firm.

”Now jump forward and grab those bars over there.”

Seconds passed.

“Okay,” he straightened his shoulders. “This is stupid,” thought to himself. And then he jumped, letting go.

The leap was quick. He flew forward and almost smashed his forehead against the pole in the center of the cabin. Feeling the structure shift beneath him, swaying like a wave, Guide grabbed onto it with both hands and squeezed his eyes shut. Something sparked sharply in his head, and he thought vaguely: “Well, that’s it – a stroke. Game over.”

”Open your eyes,” a calm voice came from beside him. A hand rested on his shoulder. “Look at it.”

That last sentence sounded almost awestruck – unusual for Snow, who mostly spoke emotionlessly.

Guide slowly pried his eyes open. At first, everything was too bright, too vivid. He honestly thought he had died. Then he realized it was sunlight. It was shining on the grass, the trees below, the road, and…

Snow sat down on the rusted bench, leaning back, squinting slightly as she looked out over the suddenly sunlit Pripyat.

”Definitely a stroke,” Guide muttered hopelessly, knowing this kind of view was impossible in the Zone.

Snow glanced at him with clear eyes and nodded toward the seat behind him.

“Sit. Take a look around. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

Guide cautiously let go of the metal bar and turned his head. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The apartment blocks looked almost friendly, nearly new. The trees rustled with bright green leaves, and the horizon wasn’t hidden behind a veil of radioactive dust. From up here, he could even see the CNPP – free of its usual aura of death and despair. All that was missing for total bliss were some birds singing and flower petals drifting on the wind… though, he was pretty sure those colorful patches below were flowers.

Guide reached to his chest and pulled out his anomaly detector. Silence – it showed no danger.

“Have you…” he began, clearing his throat when he felt the rasp. “Have you heard the theory of the Shining Zone?”

Snow slowly shook her head, her gaze drifting downward. Her ginger hair seemed to glow, and her suit looked less gray.

”The Shining Zone? No. But I think the name suits this anomaly.”

The Guide looked at her and put the detector away.

“How did you even find it?”

She tilted her head slightly.

”I… was looking for new landmarks,” she replied vaguely, placing a hand on the back of her neck and gazing at the CNPP.

Guide leaned back against the bench, crossed his legs, then straightened up.

”Alright then. So, tell me — how are things in “Noontide”?”

Snow’s gaze suddenly lit up — he hadn’t even noticed when it became heavy.

“Good. Peaceful. There’s always something to do during the day — help the scientist with his measurements, remind the cook to check the expiry dates on the cans, check on the patrol brothers. Strider doesn’t give me hard tasks — he forbade me from carrying waste barrels, for example. Said they were too heavy for me.”

”And… what do you think of Strider?” Guide’s leg suddenly began to twitch nervously, tapping against the rusty metal.

“He’s a great leader — keeps everyone together. Works too much though. I remember when Degtyarev stopped by Wild Island. He joked that we noontiders are all like his children, and together we’re like one big family.”

The wind lifted a strand of her red hair, messing up her hairstyle. Snow turned her head the other way and went on.

“We look after one another. In the evenings we sit by the fire and someone reads a book out loud. I listen and try to imagine myself as the hero of the stories, picture the scenes…”

Her voice grew quieter.

“I try to remember if I have ever read it in my past life.”

Guide thoughtfully ran his fingers along the strap of his gear on his thigh. He was hypnotized with how good her hair looked against the background of the foliage. He was silent for a while, and then said:

”Hm, green really suits you…”

”You’ve said that already.”

“I did?” he didn’t remember. “When?”

”When we were climbing.”

“Ah, right,” the Freedomer scratched his head, convinced he hadn’t said it. “You sure you don’t want to join us in Freedom? Our entertainments are way more…”

“I’m sure,” she cut him off and gave a firm look that made him falter. ”I won’t abandon my brothers. We need to stick together. We’re building a base, building a home. Learning to live again.”

She suddenly turned away and stared once more at the distant silhouette of the Chernobyl NPP — its smokestack surrounded by scaffolding, the workshop behind hastily built cover. She exhaled noisily.

“A year ago the Zone gave me a second life,” she continued, as if forcing the words out. “A new chance. And this time, I’m going to live it the way I want. And I won’t be anyone’s puppet.”

Her eyes flashed with that familiar spark of determination. The kind that could make a bloodsucker freeze and could calm the wildest chimera. The kind that hadn’t been seen in her gaze for a long time.

The kind that made him bite his tongue and stop himself from blurting out: “But you already lived it the way you wanted!” From saying that they’d known each other before her “Monolith” days. From shouting her name – her real name – not the Zone nickname she’d taken after forgetting the one he liked so much more. The one he’d given her himself.

He wanted to dive into her mind, just to check — was there anything left of her past in there?

But the words remained unspoken. They rose up and dissolved in the warm anomalous air. He has no right to take from her what she has now. He couldn’t be that… selfish.

Snow kept staring at the CNPP, then suddenly spoke again, reaching out as if trying to grasp fleeting memories.

“I woke up there a year ago. The Emission was roaring around me. Soldiers clutched their heads, writhing on the trembling ground. Their brains were boiling, burning them alive, and I had no idea where I was or what was happening."

Guide felt his throat tighten. He silently watched Snow, studying her light eyes. He noticed her fingers twitching on her knee, like a nervous tic.

”My suit was red from soaked-in blood. Not mine. My gloves felt wet. Near me was laying someone’s torn-off head — not cut off, no. Ripped out without a shred of remorse. And I don’t remember if it was I who did it or…”

Freedomer leaned forward and reached out, gently touching her hand on her knee. Through two layers of gloves. He didn’t want to force himself on her — only to calm her. Because despite the outward calmness and steady voice, Snow was on the edge.

She went silent, glanced at their hands, afraid to move. He himself was trembling slightly. She didn’t have to say any of this. “But she wants to,” he thought.

Snow looked up at him uncertainly.

“What if one day I become a puppet once again? What if I grab a knife and start chopping off the heads? I’ve heard stalkers’ campfire stories about Monolith, the one I was into — ruthless, unforgiving. What then?”

“I…“ he began quietly, after a brief silence.

But what could he say? He wasn’t some almighty god. He was just a Zone’s guide. Just a guide. Guide.

”Will you stop me?” her voice trembled.

Guide frowned, dragging out the pause. Snow gave a joyless smile and shook her head, as if scolding herself for such thoughts.

He genuinely thought she is fearless, but then there it is – one thing she was afraid of that is more thoughtful than he could imagine. 

”I’ll join your ranks,” said in the end. “And I’ll make sure that never happens again.”

“To always stay by your side,” he added in his head.

Snow, as always, didn’t immediately understand him. She furrowed her brow seriously, already about to say something like, “Sorry, only former Monolith members are allowed into ‘Noontide’,” or “the brothers won’t understand if we start inviting just anyone.”

“Kidding! I know: blah blah, rules, blah blah, I didn’t lose my memory,” he quickly said, pulling away and raising his hands defensively, forcing a smile.

He desperately wanted to steer the conversation toward something more relaxed after all that, but…

She did it herself.

”I wanted to say that you’re already a part of us. Brothers accept you and know you’re not like the other stalkers. That you’d never hurt any of them… or me.”

Snow sighed and looked back at the plant again, lost in thought.

“But she’s not sure she won’t hurt them herself one day,” he thought.

Guide realized, with a slight delay, that this “ride” on the Ferris wheel was a kind of a birthday invitation. In May 2012, something ended for someone, and for someone else, something began. Those someones are now building ‘Noontide’ together and learning to live all over again. One of them asked her leader for a day off and asked Guide to take her there. To Pripyat. To the amusement park. And he did. He’s a guide, after all. Just a guide. Even if he liked Freedom’s entertainments more.

The wind lifted another strand of red hair.

“I wanted to say thank you. For helping me and all of us. For not having any prejudices and being kind. That rare in the Zone.”

”Well, how could I not help you…” he muttered.

And then he saw how Snow smiled. Suddenly he felt like someone had tossed his guts into a meat grinder. He swore: for that smile, he would give up all the artifacts in the world. For the one he remembered from before the C-Consciousness recruited her into a quasi-religious puppet faction.

He should’ve stopped it. But back then, he’d been a total idiot. Now, though, he felt like he would burn from the inside if he didn’t say:

”You know, you’re so beautiful it makes my heart ache.”

The smile froze on her face, her eyes widened. All that Monolithian calmness vanished, replaced by flushed cheeks and a stunned expression.

”Even more beautiful than the Shining Zone.”

The moment hung still, like a shard of glass caught in a “razor” anomaly. Hundreds of unsaid words suddenly spiraled, spinning madly around the motionless Ferris wheel. He felt his suit stick to his back. The air felt too thin. Her words echoed in his mind: “The Zone gave me… a second chance.”

And this time, he was going to take it.

Snow hesitantly adjusted her hair and clasped her hands together, clearly not knowing what to do or to say.

“But maybe not today. This is her moment,” he thought, a little sadly, and looked down at the abnormally green grass and flowers.

Once they climbed down, all the magic would disappear. Pripyat would return to being gray and unwelcoming. But maybe… just a little less gray than usual.

“You know, sitting up here is nice and all, but I didn’t think about how we’ll be getting down…”

A moment later, a quiet voice answered:

”We have to jump.”

“What? Oh you can’t be serious,” it probably came out sharper than he intended, and his eyes widened more than he expected, but for the laugh that burst out of her, he was ready to jump — even knowing that in a hundred percent of cases, such jump ends with imminent death.

“There’s some sort of air cushion down there. We won’t die.”

“I’m afraid to ask how you know that,” the Guide smirked.

Snow took a deep breath. Maybe he wouldn’t get an answer today.

But for some reason, he felt sure that someday, he’d know everything.

And that he’d tell her everything too.

[hyckstarz]

breaking the rival code | l.mk

pairing. rival!mark lee x afab reader

word count. 6.1k

genre. smut · enemies to lovers trope · humour

synopsis. Mark had a way of getting on your nerves, to the point you'd even considered shutting him up for good. However, your best friend eventually planted a seed in your head that fucking your rival, and breaking the unspoken code, would be enough to finally end the long-standing feud.

warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, fingering, use of pet name (baby), choking, oral (fem receiving), haechan as best friend and instigator

A/N. i had this buried in my drafts for months but it had me screaming into my own pillow whenever i read it so, it couldn't stay unpublished for long.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Mark Lee," she's fuming, as per usual. Eyebrows tightly knit and throwing daggers with her hard glare while Mark just laughs, "It's due next week, and you haven't even written up a plan?!"

Mark rolls his eyes, his glasses almost slipping down his nose, doodling absentmindedly in his notebook, "Relax, that's 168 hours of time to work on it, it's nothing."

She sinks back into her chair, crossing her arms in that arrogant way — as Mark would describe it, "Actually, it's less than 84 hours if you factor in sleep, other classes you have to go to, and fucking surviving. Mark, do you take anything seriously?"

Mark rubs his face in frustration, facing her, "It's the first year; none of this counts towards our grade," he goes back to doodling small Spider-Man caricatures but, as always, he can't resist having the last word, "And you're too serious, princess. Live a little."

Small things like that always set her off. She was aware of how she came across but, when it involved Mark, she only ever saw red. She somehow manages to calm herself down, realising they're in the campus library and already earning a few curious, judgemental stares.

"Mark...," she manages to whisper somewhat loudly, leaning in close enough for him to feel her minty breath against his skin, "Can we please get most of this done today? I'd very much like to be free of your presence."

Mark chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes slowly drifting over her subtle features, raising a brow in amusement — the weight of his gaze caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Finally, he gave in and pulled out his laptop. He began clicking through their assignment brief and taking notes down, surprising even her, who started doing the same. As English literature students, it was a given that they had to read a stack of novels and articles, even for an assignment worth 0% towards their final grade.

Yet even small victories in their relationship were rare. It was a miracle that they were somehow able to work through the tasks efficiently, though that moment was short-lived before they were at each other’s throats, with Y/N starting it again.

"Mark, we're meant to critically analyse, not describe. Do you have any working brain cells in that thick head of yours?" Her fingers twitched, as if to hold herself back from clenching her fists and knocking some ounce of sense into him.

He rolls his eyes in response, jaw hardening as he scowled at her, clearly not in the mood for their usual back and forth, "We need to have a synopsis of the texts, I don't know how else you expect me to include all of the relevant info without having a short paragraph in there."

She simply looks at him in disbelief, shaking her head as if he'd just said the most absurd thing ever, "Mark... do you really think we can afford a whole paragraph just on a summary?"

He just chuckles in response, clearly uncaring. She leaned forward, her fingers digging into the desk and turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure. Mark’s casual smile only fuelled her irritation, but she lets out a heavy sigh, judgy eyes flicking across his face.

"You're like those pretty dumb blondes; the only thing you've got going for you are your looks, sorry to say," she sneers, going back to taking notes, but she internally curses at herself for admitting she found him at least objectively attractive.

Mark pauses, head snapping to her, his eyes flicking over her features, trying to decipher what she'd just said, or if he'd even heard her correctly under the hushed whispers of the library. He spins the pencil in his hand, eyes narrowing at her as a smug expression tugs on the corners of his lips, "You think I'm good looking? I'm flattered."

Y/N gives him an exasperated glance, snorting at his sudden change in demeanour and sitting up to look at him straight on, "I know you took me for a fool, but a blind one too? Damn," she said with a sarcastic lilt.

When Mark doesn't respond, just a cocky smirk widening — his gaze intense — she feels her heart rapidly beat against her chest and, as a way to hide the effect he has on her, she rolls her eyes for the nth time that hour, clearing her throat and focusing back on her task, "If you weren't so annoying, or if you learnt how to shut your mouth and do things correctly, you'd have a lot more going for you," she sends him a glare, "But you don't, so your looks only take you so far, and that's below average in my books."

He mocks in response, "Wow, you read? How surprising."

This time, she couldn't hold herself back. Mark did have a way with getting under her skin, so well in fact, that it led to them being asked to leave the library, only furthering their frustration and anger towards one another.

It wasn't always like this, either. When Mark had first met her, he was a shy, slightly awkward teenage boy and, the first impression she had of him, was cute. He was incredibly sweet and outgoing; it was easy for him to make friends and that meant they easily got close too. The only problem was, they were so alike in all the wrong ways. He was just too competitive and stubborn, always aiming for the top, and so was she. It was only natural that friends turned to rivals, competing with one another over everything. With that being an understatement.

From whom could get to the cafeteria the fastest, to who could submit their assignment the earliest and get the highest grade? It was competition, after competition. Most would get exhausted after the first two or three, but for them, it was thrilling, though they'd never admit that to one another.

"I can't believe your loudmouth got us kicked out of the library," his jaw hardened as he met her intense gaze, "Can't you sit still and take comments with some sort of, I don't know, strength? Because clearly, you're so sensitive over such simple, meaningless words," He slings his bag over his shoulder, already walking off.

Only further proving his point, she chases after him, tugging at his arm so that he wouldn't get away.

"You're the one who can't let things go either, always needing to have the last word, what are you, a child?" she crosses her arms and nods her head with a questioning brow, as if to say, 'go on'.

Mark just scoffs, about to walk off before turning around, his hands moving in frustration as he glares down at her, "You- you're such a pain in the ass, you know that? You really know how to drive me crazy."

He's panting, frustration evident. But it was the way he was looking at her that threw her completely off balance. His narrowed eyes flicked to her lips, brows furrowed as though he were etching her features into his long-term memory. She felt her heart drumming in her chest.

Before she could respond, a familiar yet equally as annoying mutual friend of theirs appears, snickering at the pair and their usual quarrelling, "Jeez, can't you two just fuck already?"

"Shut the fuck up, Haechan" they both say in unison, tearing their gaze away from one another with a scowl.

Haechan only snorts, glancing between the pair with an amused brow, "Clearly there's some sexual tension that I'm interrupting here, it would explain why you look at each other like that," He leans in-between them, as if to reveal the biggest secret in history, "I bet you two dream about each other too — in, you know, that kinda way."

Mark just stands there, mouth agape and in disbelief at the absurdity Haechan was spewing, looking between the two. Y/N just scoffed, grabbing the man by his bag and pulling him away without so much of a word. Haechan waved a chaste goodbye to Mark as he was being dragged off to God knows where.

Someone was going to die today, and it was definitely Haechan.

It was quiet. Way too quiet. The coffee shop was empty, hence for the low whispers of the baristas in the far corner, and a cheeky Haechan sitting before her, happily drinking his iced tea after telling his two closest friends that they should fuck each other. She groans, letting her head fall into the palm of her hands.

Usually, this coffee shop was a place where she could find peace and solitude. It was bright, with large windows that let light in all throughout the day, creating a florescent streak of amber and pink through the thin stickers attached to the panels. The colour schemes could easily brighten one's day as whites and pinks peppered along the walls.

The foliage brought life to what would otherwise seem like a cold, simple design, and the bakery added a subtle hint of beige, creating a natural environment. But the best thing about any coffee shop, was the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and the sounds of the machine working, or even the quiet conversations. Though, sounds were non-existent today, except for her constant groaning, which started to bother her best friend.

"If you make one more frustrated sound, I'm leaving," he takes another sip of his cool drink, "Is it because of what I said earlier? Just know, I wasn't lying, that would definitely help you two."

She pulls her hands away, pursing her lips as she started twirling her straw, watching the milk mix with the coffee and caramel, "No, it's because I'm... I don't know, frustrated?"

Haechan glared incredulously, "Clearly."

"Not like that, I meant... I miss how Mark and I used to be, how we would laugh at silly jokes, or talk for hours without it having to turn into a competition, but now everything he says or does has a way of getting under my skin," She takes a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling at the taste, "He could just be sitting there, doing absolutely nothing, and I'd I just want to-"

"Want to what?" Haechan asks, ears perking up, waiting for a gotcha moment.

"Well, what I usually do." She shrugs, going back to her drink.

Haechan takes everything she says in, nodding his head slowly, "Anyway, it's sort of funny as Mark said the same kinda thing to me the other day...," Haechan takes a sip of his drink, whining when he finds it empty, "He said he missed the old you, or when you guys used to be friends."

She pauses, meeting her waiting friend’s gaze. Her brows furrow. Mark... missed how they used to be? But she doesn't say anything to Haechan, keeping her thoughts to herself.

The usual smug expression returns as he leans back in his chair, leg bouncing under the table out of habit as he crossed his arms behind his head, "Anyway, as I said, you need to get your frustrations out in other ways. You clearly have a thing for each other. The way you express it is a little... unconventional, but you're both immature, so I'm not surprised."

She simply looks at her friend in disbelief, lips parted as she gapes at him, to which Haechan only grins annoyingly at her. He also had a way with words, just like Mark, except he seemed to understand boundaries a lot better, and was chill enough to not want to fight back.

"What? Please tell me you two at least have moments of either flirting with each other or checking the other person out-"

"No." She scowls, shivering at the thought. Though, she couldn't help but remember the way he'd looked at her earlier, brushing off the thought, "It's hard enough to even look at him without wanting to strangle him."

"Okay, so you're into choking, got it." Haechan chuckles, nodding as if to make a mental note of it.

"No, I'm not into that! Whatever, look, I don't have a thing for him, so just drop it." She looks at him with a serious, intense gaze, as if to emphasise the fact she really didn't want to talk about this anymore.

Her friend only nods, putting his hands up in mock surrender, "Okay, just know Mark would definitely jump you if he had the chance — I mean, which guy would put up with your shit? No offence."

She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink in hopes it would be refreshing enough to block out her growing irritation, "Anyway, the sooner I get this assignment done, the sooner I can move on from this Mark topic."

She quickly pulls out her phone before Haechan could drop in another one of his grand ideas, finding Mark's contact and immediately sending him a text. She almost spat out her drink at how fast he had responded.

You: Let's just get this assignment done with. I don't feel like getting kicked out of yet another establishment, so just come over to mine tomorrow or something.

You: *sends her address*

Mark: Fun.

Mark: I'll be there around 4 if that works

You: 👍

She bit her nails anxiously, eyes glancing between the door and the clock on the wall - each tick of the hands signalled it was only getting closer to 4, which was when Mark said he would arrive.

That wasn't why she was anxiously boring holes into the clock, however. She could curse the heavens, the earth and the 12 Olympians, but instead, she chose to curse the lust demon himself, aka Haechan. She buried her head in her hands, tugging at the roots of her hair in frustration. She can't believe she dreamt of Mark last night for the first time and, it wasn't just any dream — which was the worst part. Why did her mind have to be so vivid and make Mark so incredibly sexy? She had no idea.

When a knock came from the door, she stood up a little too quickly, rushing to it and praying that Mark looked far from presentable than he had been in her dream. But he wasn't, of course. She'd never seen him in jeans before and the green hoodie was the cherry on top. She swallowed hard, peering up at him as he adjusted his glasses.

"Are you going to let me in?" He raised a brow, his dark eyes glancing over her features in suspicion, taking a quick, subtle glimpse at her plaid sweatpants and pink t-shirt that didn't do much to hide the outline of her bra. He swallowed hard, tonguing the inside of his cheek in annoyance yet, the only thing that swirled in his mind were thoughts of how fucking attractive she was without even trying.

His annoyed expression grounded her temporarily, falling back into her usual demeanour as she rolled her eyes and held the door open wider for him, "If I catch you slacking once, I'll kick your ass out of here."

Mark gives her a side eye, frowning before kicking his shoes off, "Are you trying to motivate me not to do the work?"

She laughs sarcastically, leading him to her room as she props herself on her bed, noticing Mark looking over her interior.

"I expected your place to be put together, but not drenched in pink," his gaze trailed over her shelf, taking note of the various photo frames and mini ornaments.

She chuckles under her breath, pulling out her laptop and notes, "What, too girly for me?"

He turns his gaze to her, a quiet silence envelops them for a moment, and she takes that time to admire him. She knew he was attractive — objectively — but never had she looked at him in that way. The kind of way that made her heart and mind race.

Mark finally straightens up with a shrug, sitting down on the edge of the bed and getting his things out as well.

It felt strange having Mark in her home. If it weren't for getting kicked out of the library, her apartment would have been the last place he would be at. Though, now seeing him sat almost politely at a respectable distance from her, typing away on his keyboard quietly, made it start to feel right somehow.

She opened their shared document, reading the notes he was typing up. Even though he tended to be a lazy ass — or a procrastinator, as he would call it — there was no doubt he had a way with words. When he really put his mind to something, he would always deliver quality work. At times, she'd look back on why they had turned rivals, or enemies, and then she'd see what a complete genius he was. Maybe it was always her. Maybe she was just jealous that, no matter how hard she worked, Mark would always be ten steps ahead.

"I wrote up all the notes," Mark's voice cut through her thoughts, "How far did you get?"

She turned back to her laptop, pursing her lips at the blank screen. When she took her time responding, Mark scrolled down the document to where her cursor was and sent her a deadpanned expression, "What did you say about slacking off...?"

She doesn't know whether to laugh or smack him, so she picks the secret third option and scowls, "I did more work than you yesterday."

"That's old news," he sighed, looking through their to-do list, "I thought you wanted to get this assignment done and dusted because... what was the reason again? Oh yeah, you wanted nothing to do with me."

She scoffs, sitting up as she points an accusatory finger at him, "Don't act like you don't feel the same way."

Mark clears out the already completed tasks on the list, colour coding the other bullet points to distribute the work evenly between them, "Oh I do, and I wonder why." He doesn't even spare her a glance.

"Go on."

"Maybe it's because you continuously bitch over every little thing, it's no wonder Haechan is the only friend you have and, it's probably because he's waiting for some kind of green light," Mark's bitter words reeked of jealousy as he spoke through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me?" She shrieks before she leans over the bed and grasps at his hoodie, his hand immediately grabbing her wrist, "That's too far, Mark, even for you."

He raised an unamused brow at her, fingers tightening on her wrists, yet she doesn't waver, "Maybe, but I'm sick of it. All you ever do is complain and treat me like some sort of idiot and, when I give you the same energy, I'm the problem."

His voice is tight, jaw hard as he doesn't break the eye-contact. She pulls him in closer, anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach, "What a joke, you're just as much of a problem as I am and, you know what? Maybe Haechan was right, maybe we need to fuck for us to finally pull our shit together."

The moment those words leave her lips, she regrets them. From up close, he was even more attractive that those words naturally came out. Mark's eyes widened comically and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

His brows furrowed, "Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually suggesting that?" his voice carried a disbelieving tone despite his cheeks growing redder by the minute.

If it weren't for the dream she had last night, or that stupid green hoodie he was wearing right now, she would have laughed it off as a joke or even knocked him out in hopes he'd forget what nonsense she'd just spewed. However, all she could think about in that moment were his hands gripping at her plush thighs, spreading them apart as he lodged himself between her legs, his soft lips parting against hers desperately. She swallowed hard.

"Yes, I am suggesting that," she doubles down, the words more confident now. She knew she wanted him, even if he drove her bat-shit crazy. Even if he'd think she's bat-shit crazy.

It was almost laughable how wide Mark's eyes had gotten, his lips parted in shock, "you're fucking serious, Y/N?" This was too cruel of a joke from someone like Y/N. He knew she would rather curse him out than make absurd suggestions such as sleeping with each other. And the more he thought about it, on top of the intense gaze she carried, the more he believed she was being serious.

She leaned in, her warm breath fanning against his skin. She could smell his musky cologne — it was a scent she felt she could easily get addicted to, "I am serious, Mark," her big, doe eyes peered up at him through her lashes, "Hell, I even dreamt of you last night thanks to that blabby-mouthed Haechan."

Mark suddenly grows flustered, averting his gaze. She dreamt of him? His words practically came out like a croak from the nerves, "H-hey, that's a little..."

She raised a brow, waiting for him to continue his sentence yet he'd only grown quiet, his jaw clenched as he processed the situation. He felt his throat go dry and, the way she was staring at him made him feel breathless - a little too out in the open under her gaze. It was taking everything in him to hold back, but their shared history and his growing annoyance towards her kept him stuck in place.

"What? Mark, don't be a pussy," she scoffed. Despite her harsh words, they had rolled off of her tongue like honey, "Do you want this or not?"

Mark's head whips to her, his brows furrowed, "I am not...," the words faltered on his tongue as his hands came to rest behind her on the bed, his nose brushing against hers. He was way bigger than her, his arms caging her in, looming over her, "I'm not as much of a loser as you think I am, Y/N," the words were bitter; however, he felt like he was falling too deep.

Being this close to her, with her wide, surprised eyes staring back at him, her flowery perfume more prominent at the proximity, and her warm breath... He couldn't find it in him to deny it anymore, "Fuck, I do want this," he muttered, the whispered confession slipping past his lips before he himself could process the words.

At that, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing his nose fully against hers, "I want this too." Her soft words drew him in like a moth to a flame and it felt like the string that held onto his sanity had snapped.

Mark pressed his lips to her glossy, pink ones that tasted like cherry, breathing in her flowery scent, to which she parted her lips against his in response. His hands gripped at the soft flesh of her waist, pulling her in impossibly close. He tasted minty, mixing with his musky cologne and it was like she couldn't think straight anymore, losing her grip on reality and, instead, losing herself in him. In Mark. Her supposed enemy and rival.

It didn't take long for her to pull him on top of her, her back falling against the mattress whilst her leg rode up his side, hooking over his hips. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, nipping at her skin and down the valley of her clothed breasts. She was going insane, and it was his fault, "Mark, take off my damn shirt already," she groaned in frustration, sitting up.

He didn't waste any time. Stripping off her shirt, he subtly admired her plush breasts which sat pretty in her lilac laced bra, barely leaving anything up to his imagination. As much as she got on his nerves, he couldn't deny the effect she had on him by being effortlessly gorgeous even as her brows were tightly knit. He pushed her back down onto the bed, planting his hands on either side of her head, "Are you always this demanding?"

"Only with you," she mutters, tugging at his hoodie impatiently, to which he chuckles, taking it off. She couldn’t help but gawk at him, sending him a glare for being more attractive than her dreams could ever do justice.

He kisses her again, his hand trailing down the side of her breasts, not giving her time to run her mouth. Then, his hand pulls the bra down, letting her breasts slip out as he cupped and kneaded the soft mounds, groaning into her mouth at how they fit perfectly in his hand. He rolled the nub between his fingers, grazing his thumb over them.

Mark kisses down her body, taking a nipple into his mouth — biting and tugging at it as his hand continued to twist the other between his thumb and index. He relished in the soft sounds that escaped her lips and the way she tugged at the locks of his hair.

He continued to move down her body, his finger hooking under the waistband of her sweatpants as he met her gaze, "I know you beat my ass over this, but you sure this is what you want?"

She deadpanned at him, "You just made out with my breasts, Mark. If I didn't want this, I would have stopped you there."

Mark just rolls his eyes in response, slipping her sweatpants down, "Could have just said yes."

She's about to retort when she feels his hand cup her, finger tracing the clothed slit of her pussy and she has to bite her lip to stop her from making a sound. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction so soon. Didn't want him to know just how badly she wanted him — more than she'd like to admit.

However, Mark was as stubborn and competitive as she was, and he wouldn't hold back until she gave in. He pushes her underwear to the side, leaning in so that his warm breath fanned against her sensitive folds, causing her to whimper.

'Fuck,' she thought.

Mark, without warning, slowly licks a stripe up her slit, his flat tongue drawing out a shudder from her — back naturally arching. Each time, he'd go in for more, slowly bringing up the pace. Her thighs clamped around his head, holding him hostage until he groaned and grabbed onto her plush thighs, pinning them to the bed; fingers leaving marks along her soft skin. Her own fingers grabbed at anything they could, from the sheets beneath her, to the healthy lock of hair on his head, letting them knot around her digits and tug with every wave of pleasure he had given her.

She could feel his cocky smirk as he sucked on her clit, enjoying every moment of her falling apart on his mouth. Falling apart for him. When he pulls away from her, she let's out a frustrated whine to which Mark only laughs at, "Open your mouth."

She sends him a skeptical look, "Fuck no."

Mark's patience wears thin, "Don't be a stubborn brat now."

Surprisingly, she obliged and he pushes his fingers past her plush, kiss-swollen lips. Her mouth suckles on the digits, tongue swirling around them, and he retracts his fingers with a pop.

"Fuck, your mouth really does have uses other than spewing insults and demands," he teases, voice low, tracing her entrance which had her letting out shallow breaths.

"At least it has more use than your fingers-" her words cut short when he pushes his finger in, palm pressed to her clit as he looks up at her with a 'you sure about that?' look.

It doesn't take long for Mark to add a second finger, curling them in search for the spot that would make her see stars. And then, he finds it, and she let's out a sharp gasp which only grows louder when his lips wrap around her clit, continuing his earlier ministrations of lapping at her folds like a man starved.

Just as her dreams failed in visualising just how attractive her nemesis was, it had also failed in expressing how utterly, impossibly, and irritatingly good he was with his hands, lips, tongue-

"Mark, fuck-!" She starts to tense under him, eyes pierced shut as she chases that feeling of ecstasy.

"I believe I'm getting there...," Mark chuckles, the vibration of his voice fluttering against her.

And, just as she starts to see the twinkling behind her eyelids, the light at the end of the dark tunnel, and a glimpse of the heavens, Mark pulls away, leaving her empty, wanting, and embarrassingly needy.

Forget Haechan, Mark was the number one man on her hit list.

In a second, he's over her again, cupping the back of her neck and lifting her slightly up to kiss her. She can taste herself on his tongue, feel the way his lips apply just the right amount of pressure to say he's here, and it's so soft, so gentle, so wanting — it was the perfect contrast, the perfect contradiction to the image she'd created in her mind of him. His thumb brushes against her jaw, fingers tangling in her hair, before he pulls away, forehead resting on hers as he breaths against her.

His eyes flicker open to gaze down at her; warm and oh so inviting. It felt like the Mark she once knew. The genuine, loving and calming person. Though his next words threw her completely off balance, and she was quick to retract her claims.

"I'm going to fuck that sexy, infuriating attitude out of you, baby," he lets the pet name draw out. In every other context, with any other person, she would have cringed at that word, but it felt so undeniably attractive coming out of his lips, that she wanted to hear him say it more than once.

Mark got up off of the bed, pulling out his wallet to fish for a condom that had been in there for God knows how long, chucking it on the bed next to her and kicking off his jeans and boxers in record speed. She barely had a millisecond to admire the sheer length of him before he was on her again.

His deep brown eyes kept their hold on hers and she could see a subtle hint of affection; the space between his brows crinkling in focus as he slowly pushed into her. His calloused fingers pressed along her waist, leaving white marks along her curves, while she could feel every ridge, vein and pulse of his cock.

When he bottomed out, she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in impossibly close. Needing him closer to her. She could feel the rough planes of his body pressed to her soft ones as he started to rock against her. He gripped her thigh, pushing it further up so he could angle himself better, remembering the spot that had her seeing stars earlier.

Each time he'd hit that spot, she'd clench naturally, rocking her hips to meet his that had him softly groaning by her ear. He smelt so good, felt so good, was so good. She felt her mind start to fog up, jaw slack from the loud, erotic sounds that forced its way out from her throat. It was too much in the best possible way.

That wasn't as far as Mark would go though, he wouldn't stop at just good. He wanted best. His hand snakes up her body, gently wrapping around her neck — thumb pressed to her jaw — as he applied enough pressure to her pulse point. She knew then that maybe she did actually enjoy being choked or, at least, enjoyed anything Mark did.

She throws her legs around his waist, pulling him down, desperate to feel more of him, to reach her release she craved, pride long forgotten, "Mark... Mark, fuck- please..."

Mark pressed a sweet, uncharacteristic kiss to her cheek, "Please what, baby?" he brushed the strands away from her forehead, never halting his movements.

"Need more of you...," She could barely get the words out, but Mark knew exactly what she meant. Without time for her to process, he flipped her onto her stomach, pressing her face against the pillows, fingers tangled in her silky hair as he snapped his hips into her with more strength.

She could have sworn she started hallucinating seeing stars in the room from how deep he was reaching in this new angle, hitting her spot with added ease. Her glossy lips stayed parted against the pillows, drool staining the cotton case as she let out soft grunts.

Mark's head rolled back at the filthy sounds of her and how fucked out she looked. It made him want to carve this scene into the deepest part of his memory, "You're doing so good for me... So pretty like this."

His soft voice did not match the roughness of his fucking, but it made her clench around him, "C-close..."

Mark hummed, grabbing locks of her hair and tugging it back so that she arches against him, "Be a good girl and come all over my cock, then."

She nods eagerly, reaching behind him to grab at his hips, urging him to go faster, harder. She chased that release as if seeking closure from her pent up frustrations at Mark and hers usual bickering and challenges. She sits up to lean against him, knees pressed to the mattress and head rested on his collarbone — his own arms wrapping around her body. Finally, she came, body shuddering in his hold and, at the feel of her convulsing around his length, Mark bit her neck, muffling his sweet sounds as he followed suit.

They stayed like that for a while, panting, hair sticking to their foreheads. She wouldn't be close to exaggerating by saying this was the best sex she'd ever had, but she would also blame that on the sheer tension they carried for years around one another.

When Mark slips out of her, she fully expects him to make some usual smart comment, but he only pulls her with him as he lay in her bed, keeping his arms around her, "Who knew we'd be so compatible?"

She snorts, "I can name at least one person," she thinks of her best friend, the whole reason this night even happened and speeding up the process between them.

Mark smiles, snuggling into her and letting out a soft sigh, feeling sleep catching up to him, "I hope this isn't just a one time thing, though," he says suddenly with a soft voice, "you don't know how long I wanted this for. Wanted you. It drove me insane trying to be... I guess, respectful and casual about it all."

She sat up, turning to look down at him with a playful look of disbelief, "I call bullshit, you weren't respectful about nothing. Not that I'm complaining, it's attractive seeing you annoyed."

Mark rolls his eyes, smirking at her, his cockiness returning, "I knew you found me more than just objectively attractive, you're down bad."

She easily admits it, "Yeah, I am. But you're in way deeper for asking Haechan for advice of all people."

Mark immediately sits up, his face pale from the shock despite his cheeks being flushed, "Dude- Wait, what?"

"We're on dude terms now after you fucked an outline of my body into this mattress?" she scoffs, her crude words making Mark increasingly more flustered than he already was, "The choking kinda gave it away. I just know Haechan threw that in conversation with you."

Mark laughed sheepishly, pulling her into his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "Guilty as charged. Though, I'm proposing we get back at his arrogant ass by not telling him a thing. We'll slowly drop hints to mess with him a little — see how long it takes for him to catch on."

"I'm in," She giggles, feeling sleep overtake her as she nestled into Mark's chest.

Before today, neither of them would have imagined that fucking each others rival would be the secret to finally ending the long-standing feud and breaking the rival code.

© hyckstarz

[beloveds-embrace]

(part two of here comes the sun: poly 141 x medic reader where you might as well be the sun to them)

Soap wasn’t subtle about it.

The moment he was cleared to leave the med tent, he started pushing. Hard, even if he knew there wouldn’t be much, actual opposition.

“Price,” he said, leaning against the captain’s desk like he wasn’t still healing. “John. We need her.”

Price didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “You need to sit down before you tear that wound open again.”

“I’m serious,” Soap insisted, gesturing wildly. “You saw her. She’s sharp, steady. Quick hands. Disnae panic under pressure. And-”

“And she’s not ours,” Price cut him off, finally looking up. “She’s stationed with another unit.”

“She could be ours,” Soap shot back, undeterred. “We need a medic. She’s the best one I’ve seen.”

Price gave him a long, measured look, and Soap could tell the captain was already considering it even before Soap burst into his office.

“She’s bright.” Price said after a beat, tone flat but amused, and sat back in his chair.

Soap grinned. “Aye. Easy ta spot.” What you, yourself, had said to him when he’d woken up in that tent. He kept going through that day again and again.

Price exhaled through his nose and reached for his phone, and Soap left feeling quite satisfied.

You arrived two weeks later.

The announcement was casual- just another personnel transfer- but the 141 treated it like the sun itself had walked into their orbit.

You stepped into the briefing room with the ease of someone who had faced fire and walked out the other side. Your bright gear stood out starkly against the muted greens and browns of the others, like a flare shot across a starless sky, and it reminded them so much of the day they had met you on that battlefield.

Gaz was the first to speak, offering a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair, offering you an easy smile. “Looks like it’s true. They really did send us the sun.”

You smiled at that, shoulders straight but relaxed, clearly used to the nickname by now. “I’ll try not to blind you, Sargeant.”

Soap’s eyes never left you. His grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and before he could think better of it, the words slipped out- low and rough like an ember still burning.

“Doubtful.”

You blinked, turning to him, but he quickly looked away and scratched at the back of his neck like it hadn’t meant anything. It did, though, and he knew everyone in the room had caught it.

“Well,” Price finally said, breaking the moment. “Welcome to the task force, medic. Let’s hope you live up to your reputation.”

You raised an eyebrow, that sharpness returning to your gaze as you stood a little straighter. “I don’t plan on letting you down, sir.”

Soap’s heart stumbled. That steady confidence- it was the same tone you’d used when you’d saved his life, the same fire he’d seen in your eyes as you’d pulled him back from the edge.

Here comes the sun, he thought again, and this time it didn’t feel like an omen.

It felt like a promise.

And now, you fit into the 141 like you’d always been there.

It didn’t happen all at once- trust like theirs was hard-earned, built in layers of sweat, blood, and battlefield grit. But it started quickly enough.

Price made it clear from day one. He didn’t just treat you as part of the team; he expected it. No fanfare, no hesitation. “You’re one of us now,” he said after your first successful op, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t forget it.”

Gaz took to you next, easy and natural. He lingered near you during drills, cracking jokes and testing your reflexes like it was a game. “Just making sure the sun doesn’t burn out,” he’d tease with a grin. But the way he always had your back in the field- never too far, always watching- spoke louder than words.

Soap made it impossible to keep your guard up, of course. He pulled you into conversations before you even realized it, throwing compliments and nicknames around like confetti with an easy grin. “The sun’s shining bright today,” he’d say whenever you joined a room, all charm and laughter. It was easy to laugh with him, easier still to trust him when things got serious.

Ghost was different. Quiet. Watchful. You never caught him outright staring, but you felt his presence. He didn’t say much at first- just short nods and simple instructions during missions. But then there were the small things. The way he passed you ammo without being asked. The way he moved closer during tense moments, his silence as steadying as any words.

And when he finally spoke up, it was never casual. “Good work,” he told you after a long, brutal mission. It wasn’t much, but it felt like everything.

You learned to move with them like clockwork. They learned to rely on you the same way. Missions came and went, and somewhere in between the chaos and quiet, you stopped feeling like the new addition and started feeling like home.

It wasn’t the colors of your gear that made you stand out anymore. It was the way you fit beside them- bright and steady, a fixed point in their orbit.

Soap caught himself watching you more often than he should’ve.

It wasn’t just the colors, though they still hit him first- those impossible reds and oranges that stood out like fire on a battlefield. They reminded him of sunrise after too many nights spent in the dark, of flames warding off the cold, and he didn’t think there’d come a day where the colors don’t surprise him. But it wasn’t just that.

It was the way you moved.

Steady. Deliberate. Like hesitation wasn’t in your vocabulary. You worked with purpose, not a single wasted motion, and it drew his eye every damn time. You stood out in ways that had nothing to do with the bright gear- like light breaking through fog, cutting through smoke and haze to reveal solid ground.

And he wasn’t the only one who saw it.

Price started calling you their beacon during briefings. At first, it had sounded like a joke, a casual nod to the nickname you’d earned, but it simply stuck.

“We follow the sun,” Price said once, tone half-serious, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “And if we lose track of her, we’re done for.”

Soap had laughed along with the others, but the words lingered.

Gaz, for his part, never made any effort to hide how much he liked having you around. He hovered close more often than not, easy-going and quick with compliments.

“It’s just the colors,” he’d insist whenever someone called him out for it. “You’re hard to miss.”

But Soap caught the way Gaz’s tone softened when he said it, like maybe it wasn’t just the colors after all.

Ghost… Ghost was different.

He didn’t flirt, didn’t tease- not like the others. But Soap had spent enough time with him to notice the shift. The slight tilt of his head whenever you spoke. The way his shoulders relaxed when you were in the room. The rare moments he let you touch him, patching up a wound or tightening a bandage, as if he trusted you without question.

Soap had nearly choked when he’d caught Ghost staring once, lingering too long while you tied off a suture on his arm. For all his jokes about Ghost being unflappable, even Soap couldn’t ignore the look he’d seen- the way Ghost had leaned just slightly into your touch, like he’d never wanted to leave it.

And Soap?

Soap was a mess.

Because no matter how much the others admired you- how much they trusted you, relied on you- he’d seen you first.

He’d been the one bleeding out in the dirt, thinking his time was up. He’d been the one who saw you cut through the smoke and fire like something out of a dream. And that fact burned in his chest like an ember that refused to go out.

Sometimes, he thought about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there. If you hadn’t run straight into hell to get to him. But those thoughts never lasted long- because all he had to do was look at you to remind himself that you had been there.

You’d saved him. And now, every time he saw you, with those bright colors and steady hands, it hit him all over again.

Here comes the sun, he thought.

And this time, he didn’t want to look away.

It was late one evening when it happened again.

The mission had gone south- not as badly as last time, but bad enough. They’d made it out, but Gaz had taken a hit, and comms had failed halfway through.

By the time they stumbled back to the evac point, Soap was covered in dirt and sweat, exhaustion weighing heavy in his limbs. But then-

You.

You came running, gear catching the fading light, colors flaring like fire in the dusk.

Soap’s breath hitched.

Here comes the sun.

He couldn’t stop thinking it. It looped through his head like a mantra as you fell to your knees beside Gaz, hands already moving, voice low and steady as you worked. The others lingered nearby, hovering but trying not to get in your way.

Soap stood frozen, watching.

Watching you save another life, same as you’d saved his.

It was Ghost who spoke first, breaking the silence. “Told you,” he murmured. “Sun’s hard to miss.”

Gaz let out a weak chuckle, though his voice was tight with pain. “Yeah… can’t look away, can you?”

Price didn’t say anything, but his expression was clear enough. Relief. Trust.

And Soap- Soap felt it more than ever.

The sun. Warmth in the cold. Fire in the dark.

He knew now, without a doubt, that they’d follow you anywhere.

(You’d never lead them wrong.)

[kiszjuli]

MY GIRL .ᐟ

✸ shy!mark x fem!reader | genre. fluff. | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳ synopsis. in which mark has apparently claimed you in his heart, and to no one other than his friends. hiding his feelings thinking that he didn’t have a chance, he gets extremely jealous when someone tries to ask you out for valentine’s day. you’re his girl.

↳playlist. designer - nct 127, just the way you are - bruno mars, can’t take my eyes off of you - frankie valli, when im with you - nct dream, night poem - nct dream, can’t help falling in love - elvis presley.

the student lounge was buzzing with laughter and chatter, the sounds of friends catching up and making plans for the upcoming 3-day weekend. mark sat at a corner table with his group of friends, jeno, donghyuck, and jisung. but his gaze and attention kept drifting to you. you were seated at a nearby table with your own group of friends. you were always effortlessly surrounded by people, your laugh ringing in his ears like his favorite song. mark had always admired how easily you lit up every room you entered, how everyone seemed drawn to your warmth and energy. and how-

“earth to mark,” jeno’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and Mark blinked, seeing his friends hand waving in front of his face. he looked up at his friend with a forced smile.

“huh? oh, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, fixing the hat on his head, trying to look more engaged but failing.

jisung raised an eyebrow, noticing the direction mark was looking. “you good, man?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

nodding quickly, mark then shifted in his seat. “yeah, i’m fine. just… trying to focus, you know?” He waved his hand brushing them off, though his eyes couldn’t help but flick back to you for a moment.

donghyuck catches where his eyes dart, and a knowing look forms on his face. “you sure? you’ve been staring at her all afternoon,” donghyuck added with a grin.

mark immediately blushed, feeling heat rush to his face. “what? no! i wasn’t staring,” he protested a little too quickly, tugging his hat lower to hide his face. “i just—uh, i’m just lost in thought.” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

jeno smirked. “uh-huh, sure. if you say so. but you’ve been acting kinda weird lately. you sure there’s nothing going on?”

mark swallowed hard, his heart racing at the thought of you. He had always admired you from a distance, but you were popular, way out of his league. his friends knew about his little crush on you, but he didn’t think they understood the full extent of it. he wasn’t even sure you saw him as more than a mere friend.

“i-idon’t know,” mark muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “it’s just… she’s always so surrounded by people, you know? she’s pretty much got everyone’s attention all the time.”

jeno leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “she’s definitely got yours” his comment earning a laugh from the other two.

mark’s face flushed deeper, and he slumped in his seat. “no guys, seriously,” he mumbled, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “she’s just… i don’t know. she’s popular, and i’m just… me.”

“yeah, well, ‘just you’ is exactly why you’ve got a shot,” donghyuck said, his voice light but encouraging. “you think she doesn’t notice? she does. she’s not blind, mark.”

“exactly,” jisung added, leaning back in his chair. “you’ve been acting like a nervous mess every time she’s around. maybe it’s time you do something about it, yeah?”

mark shot a small glance toward your table, his heart skipping a beat as you caught his eye for a second. he quickly adverted his gaze, pretending to be interested in something in front of him.

jeno chuckled and patted him on the back. “mark, you’ve got this. you just have to take a chance. she’s not some unreachable goddess. if you really like her, go for it. stop hiding behind your ‘I’m fine’ act.”

mark gave him a small, unsure smile. “maybe. i’ll think about it,”

but deep down, mark was terrified. he could never imagine you looking at him the way he looked at you. you were popular, funny, and effortlessly charming. he was… well, just mark.

as you laughed from across the room, mark’s heart gave an involuntary flutter. maybe his friends were right—maybe it was time to stand up and stop pretending he didn’t want more. more than to just watch you from afar. but for now, he stayed where he was, silently watching, unsure if he’d ever have the courage to tell you how he truly felt.

—

classes were now over, and small groups of people were in the large theater, helping set up for valentine's day. your school was hosting a valentine's day fundraiser, where the campus would raise money for local charities. this year's theme 'music for the heart'- likewise, the main attraction was the music appreciation raffle.

you were there of course, running the “song dedication booth” where students could pay a small fee to have a song dedicated to someone during the open mic. you decorated the booth yourself: choosing some white fairy lights to outline the sign, with red heart balloons all around, and of course some cut out music notes that you had done earlier.

“okay, so you want ‘can’t take my eyes off you’ for your girlfriend? great choice,” you said with a smile, writing the request onto the list. “she’ll love it.”

mark watched you from the edge of the stage, where he was tuning his guitar for his performance later. he could hear your cheerful voice as you talked with students, helping them pick the perfect songs. the way you talked about music, your passion shining through every suggestion and question, made his chest tighten.

“she’s really into this,” jisung remarked from behind the drum kit, glancing between mark and you. “you’re playing tonight, right? finally gonna make your move?”

mark glanced over at his friends—jeno adjusting his bass strap and dongkyuck pretending to help. he quickly averted his gaze, nervously strumming his guitar. “i don’t know,” he muttered. “she’s got so much going on. she’s busy.” he made excuses.

donghyuck rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “she’s running a music related booth, mark. if there’s ever a chance to make conversation, it’s right now.”

hesitant, he glanced back at you as you laughed with another student. “but what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” he said quietly.

“dude, she smiles at you differently than anyone else,” jeno chimed in. “i don’t think you realize how obvious you are. she’s into you too, but you can’t wait forever.”

the idea of putting himself out there, of confessing how he felt in front of everyone, made his palms sweat. he just couldn’t.

“why not dedicate your song to her?” jisung spoke up, his voice softer

mark’s heart pounded knowing that his song was already dedicated to you, having thought about it for weeks beforehand. he was going to perform ‘just the way you are’ by bruno mars.

mark glanced up, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw you looking his way, the fairy lights illuminated your features in the best way as you gave him a small, bright smile. he awkwardly waved back, his stomach flipping as you returned your attention to the students walking your way.

“smooth,” donghyuck muttered, biting back a laugh.

“shut up,” mark mumbled, his face heating up.

—

the lights in the theater dimmed, and the crowd hushed as mark stepped onto the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder. you stood near the back of the room, watching as he adjusted the mic, his hands trembling slightly. you felt a smile creeping to your face.

“this one’s for someone special,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

your best friend, winter nudged your shoulder and you glared at her with a laugh. she always teased you about your slight crush on the boy.

as the familiar chords of “just the way you are” filled the room, your heart skipped a beat. mark’s voice was soft yet filled with emotion, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

when he sang, “her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining,” you felt your cheeks flush. feeling like you were looking too much into it, you shook your head slightly and glanced down at your shoes.

by the final verse, everyone was entranced by his voice. when the song ended, the applause broke the spell, but mark’s gaze lingered on yours, his lips curving into a shy smile.

—

the rest of the fundraiser went extremely well. the crowd winding down and now you found yourself starting to pack up your things at you booth.

“hey,” a voice interrupted, making you glance up.

It was a guy from one of your classes, holding a small bouquet of roses in his hands. he looked nervous but determined as he stepped closer to your booth.

“oh, hi!” you greeted warmly, taking a pause from packing up.

mark saw it from across the student center—the way the guy nervously walked up to you, clutching a small bouquet of flowers, his face tinged pink, your kind but still friendly smile. frozen in place, his chest tightened. he couldn’t hear the conversation, but he didn’t need to. the way the guy was smiling at you and the way you politely smiled back made it clear what was happening. but you were his girl. even if that guy didn’t know it yet.

of course someone else would ask you out. he knew it was going to happen at some point, always surrounded by people who admired you. and mark? he’d spent months hiding his feelings, thinking you’d never look at him that way.

but now as he sees the guy walk away from you-missing the slight frown on his face-he can’t stop his own two feet from moving towards you. his mind was racing. did you say yes? were you off limits now? labeled as someone else’s girl?

as he approached, you were gathering the last few things from your booth. you noticed him and looked up.

“oh, mark?” you asked tilting your head, still with bright eyes.

“hey,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing as his voice cracked slightly. “i, uh… i saw you talking to that guy just now.”

you raised an eyebrow, catching the uncertainty in his tone. “huh? oh yeah, he was just—”

“did you—did you say yes?” the words spilling out before he could stop them, and he winced as soon as he realized how frantic his voice sounded.

you blinked in surprise. “what?”

“to, uh… whatever he asked you…” mark said, rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushing. he was getting more and more choked up by the second. “i mean, obviously it’s fine if you did..it’s probably none of my business and- he seemed nice. i just…” he trailed off, his words stringing along as he avoided your gaze.

you stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was getting at. a soft laugh escaped your lips, and mark’s eyes darted to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what’s funny?”

“no, i didn’t say yes,” you said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i told him i wasn’t interested.” you said looking up, your grin still lingering on your face.

mark felt relief wash over him as a small smile tugged at his lips. however, disbelief still clouded his mind. “you..didn't?”

shaking your head you spoke. “nope,” your smile was warm yet teasing as you say his rosy cheeks darken a little. “i think i’d rather wait for someone i actually want to say yes to,”

mark just blinked, not knowing how to react. what did that mean? could you be talking about him? or was it someone else? why would you-

“mark,” you called out, breaking him from his thoughts. “if..you have something to say, now would be the time,” you said softly, stepping a little closer.

“well, i-i have been wanting to say something for a while now,” he started, taking a breath. “i like you a lot, like- a lot..but i just didn’t think i had a chance..”

your smile widened feeling a small heat rise to your cheeks too. “you always had a chance mark,”

relief mixed with disbelief washed over him. you felt the same way the whole time? he let out a nervous laugh, his shoulders finally relaxing. “so, does this mean i can ask you out now?”

“i think you just did,” you teased, your fingers fiddling together, as your heart beat a little faster.

mark grinned, his confidence growing. he reached out for your hand, still shaking but sure. “well, then… will you be my valentine?” he wanted to ask ‘will you be my girl?’ but this would do for now-slow steps, he told himself.

“i’d love to,” you replied, your eyes sparkling as you smiled at him.

“y/n! can you come here for a sec?” winter called for you from the studio room. she apologized later once she found out was was happening, but you brushed it off saying it was okay.

you looked to mark and stepped closer. you softly pressed your lips to his cheekbone and pulled away slowly. “come find me later?”

he nods with a hum, too star struck by you to form a sentence, or even a word. you smiled and walked off, now knowing that you finally had the guy you wanted. and mark walked back to his guitar to his teasing friends with a dopey, cheesy smile knowing that you were his girl.

and in that moment, mark felt that every doubt, every little hesitation, had been worth it.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yowmaman @yukisroom97

[goatgoesmbe]

So about that post of Simons gf that's super kind. what if she's petty with her kindness. one time me and my mom got in fight and that same day she complained about how many house plants she had. so i bought her a miniature rose bush (roses being a hard plant to take care of) as make up gift. I've also made other people their coffee wrong, bought unbalanced pens, gave there cats cat nip, given their children obnoxiously loud toys, etc.

Tw : reader is morally questionable, mention of assault

OOOH ANON, I LOVE THISS-

Like- just because reader is sweet, that doesn't mean being a pushover. You have class, and your own way of handling assholes properly.

I imagine Simon would think he needed to be the one who protects you, seeing you're all sunshine and rainbow, always so nice and kind- and he just didn't want anyone to take advantage of you, you know?

But then he realized that you're actually not a damsel in distress.

The first time he saw it, was at a neighbor's baby shower..

"You've been with him for what? 3 years now- and still no ring?" 

Simon glanced at you,simply smiling  in response. He recognized that voice, Stella was her name. Or something along those lines. She was one of those people who always wanted attention, bragging about every little thing while also dragging people down just so she could feel better about herself.

Simon had to hold back from rolling his eyes when she previously arrived. Wearing matching designer clothes with her five-year-old son, Aiden. Which was a waste of money in his opinion, the little fella will grow out of them in a short time after all.

"I mean.. come on, you're not getting any younger.. better make it official soon before you expire - he might no longer  be attracted to you by  then" Before you could respond to the previous jab, Stella continued talking. You could see why she would ask something like that, it was just how she was like after all. 

You and Simon have reasons, but it was really none of her business. And you couldn't exactly explain to her that your boyfriend is legally dead so you couldn't marry him properly.

Simon wasn't even listening to the other lads around him anymore- not that he did in the first place. Looking at you directly from his spot, he observed the others who interacted with you. You were surrounded by the other moms from the neighborhood, yet none of them said anything against Stella.

He saw you giggle, brushing off Stella's words way too casually like it didn't affect you, or maybe you didn't get that she was mocking you- Simon wasn't sure.

"It's time to go, luv" His gruff voice stopped their conversation as he approached you. He could feel their eyes on him, some of them not hiding the fact that they found him attractive from how they looked up at him with a slight flush on their cheeks. He wondered how you were comfortable being around them at all, he could never exchange more than a few words with them without feeling  like he needed to commit  murder.

Well.. whatever, you won't be meeting them again anytine soon, since the both of you  were planning to move away.

You looked up at him with those big innocent eyes and pouted "But-". 

"It's late" he added, putting his hand on your hip and pulling you close to make a statement at the others who still shamelessly gawked at him.

Seeing that look in his eyes- the one that means he accepted no rejection, you sighed. "Alright, let me say my goodbye" You said before turning back to them.

Simon simply grunted and waited. And when he thought you were ready to go, he raised an eyebrow when you instead walked over to the kids who were busy playing. You told them about you moving out of  the neighborhood and the kids didn't seem to like that, you were their favorite after all.

"I have something for you guys to remember me by.." You chirped. Immediately, the kids looked at you with eagerness as you rummaged through your tote bag.

The side of his lips lifted under his mask when he saw you pulling out mini harmonicas. Before you could say anything more, a brat snatched one out of your hands. That was Aiden, Stella's spoiled boy. Which means it would be hard for the mom to get the noisy thing from him.

A cute little giggle escaped your lips as you watched the boy immediately blow on the harmonica messily, spraying spit everywhere.

After you made sure every kid got one, you stood up and held his hand before skipping away with him in tow. Cacophony of moms' frustrated yelling, children's laughs, and loud harmonicas left behind.

So you had planned your revenge all along, huh? Seems like you're not a total angel like he’d thought you were.

...

The second time was  when he visited you at work. While he provided  enough for you to stay home and do nothing, you still insisted on running  your own cafe. Saying that it had been your dream since you were little. And how can he say no when you look at him with those puppy eyes?

And while you do have people working for you, you still help around from time to time. "It's the best part about having a cafe," you said to him that one time.

He was sitting at a table close enough to observe you working in that cute little uniform you had designed yourself for the cafe, when a guy walked in. His appearance screamed 'douche', the kind of guy who would talk about how many body counts is too many for a woman in a podcast.

Despite that, you greeted him cheerfully like you do with every other costumer. Even when he told you to write 'daddy' on the cup after you asked for a name, a disgusting smirk on his lips.

Meaning you would need to yell out that word to call for him when the order was ready.

And while Simon was fuming inside, you were calm. Humming along with the music playing from the speaker as you prepared the coffee. 

But, instead of calling for the guy yourself, you turn to one of your employees. His name was Shane, written on the name tag clipped to his uniform. He was a big guy, not any taller than your boyfriend but still. A simple man who will be pleased spending the night scarfing down pizzas and beers. Now, Shane was known for many things, one of them being very gay, and being  totally not shy about it.

You smiled before turning away to take the next order, all while  secretly paying attention to what was going to happen next.

"Daddy..!" Shane shamelessly sing-sung the word loudly and even when Simon expected it already, he still choked on his tea. He also saw you biting down your lip to prevent yourself from laughing.

Shane went on for a while until the whole cafe fell silent except for the music playing that didn't fit the situation at all, which made it evenmore hilarious. 

'Daddy' finally walked over to get his order. Red in the face and looking very pissed. He was not stupid enough to cause a scene, however, and simply accepted his cup without so much as a thank you. And of course, Shane added the cherry on top by throwing a flirty wink.

And when you noticed the way he glanced at you after taking a sip of his coffee, tasting regular milk instead of almond- knowing full well he told you earlier about his lactose intolerance. You simply gave him that sweet smile of yours, a cheerful "Thank you, please come back again..!" Thrown his way like how it always is whenever a customer is leaving.

Simon chuckled under his breath and shook his head. Feeling proud (and scared, that was borderline crime) of his pretty bird being cruel in her own ways.

So when he saw you sighing after an argument on the phone with your mom, he didn't question it when you went ahead and bought a make up gift for her.

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

-------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[gottencents]

CASUAL - Yu Jimin

part two. | part three.

pairing. mean girl!karina x star soccer player!reader

synopsis. at Changryeo University, Yu Jimin or just Karina is the ultimate “mean rich girl” — popular, wealthy, and always seeking ways to stay on top. After setting her sights on Sunghoon, the charming soccer captain, Karina shifts her focus to Y/N, an up-and-coming soccer star with an unexpected breakout season. Unlike the polished Sunghoon, Y/N is more of an outsider who got by on talent but doesn’t fit the typical college elite mold.

Realizing that Y/N is the only one who doesn’t care about the social hierarchy, Karina proposes a deal: they’ll fake date so Karina can boost her popularity, while Y/N gets protection from relentless attention. Reluctantly, Y/N agrees, and the two navigate a world of social manipulation, only to find that their fake relationship might lead to something more real than either expected.

Changryeo University was everything Y/N despised about high school, except on steroids. The social hierarchy was alive and thriving, fueled by wealth, good looks, and the kind of academic and athletic achievements that could only be purchased or inherited. Y/N, on the other hand, had gotten in on her soccer skills alone. And while she was proud of her co-captain status, it came with one massive downside—people were starting to notice her.

One of those people was Karina Yu .

Karina was the embodiment of every “mean rich girl” stereotype that Y/N had tried to avoid. She was the queen of Changryeo’s social pyramid, the head cheerleader, and the reigning queen bee. The worst part? Karina wasn’t just popular. She was strategic. Every move she made was calculated, designed to keep her at the top.

So when Y/N walked into the campus coffee shop one afternoon and saw Karina waiting for her with a smile that could freeze fire, she immediately knew something was up.

“Y/N,” Karina said smoothly, her manicured nails tapping on the table in front of her. “Sit.”

Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Karina? I’m kind of busy.”

Karina tilted her head, giving her an incredulous look. “Busy doing what? Pretending to ignore the fact that you’re the most talked-about soccer player on campus right now?”

Y/N frowned, adjusting the strap of her soccer bag. “I’m just trying to focus on my grades and practice. I don’t really care about all… this.” She gestured vaguely to the bustling café, full of students whispering and staring.

Karina smirked. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You can’t just ‘not care.’ You’re part of this world now, whether you like it or not.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess—you’re here to welcome me to the ‘world’ with some sort of deal?”

Karina’s smile widened. “Exactly. I knew you weren’t as slow as you pretend to be.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Here’s the thing, Y/N. I need someone who can keep my social status intact until graduation. Someone who’s popular enough to keep people talking but also low-maintenance enough that I don’t have to babysit them. You, unfortunately, check both boxes.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait… what?”

Karina sighed, as if she were explaining something painfully obvious. “Fake date me. You get everyone off your back—because trust me, no one messes with what I call dibs on—and I get to ride your… what do they call it? Soccer hype?”

Y/N stared at her, trying to process what she was hearing. “You want me to pretend to date you? For popularity?”

Karina rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get to focus on your precious soccer and grades, and I stay on top where I belong. Everyone wins.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “Except I don’t care about popularity, Karina. And I’m not sure why you’re even interested in me. I’m not exactly your type.”

Karina’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “That’s exactly why you’re perfect. You don’t care about any of this. You’re not going to embarrass me by trying too hard or starting drama. And honestly? People love an underdog. It’s… charming.”

Y/N scoffed. “Charming? You’ve spent the past two years pretending I don’t exist.”

Karina shrugged. “I didn’t need you then. Now I do.” She leaned back, crossing her legs. “Look, you can say no. But I guarantee the attention you’re getting right now? It’s only going to get worse. And when people start digging into your past or spreading rumors about you…” She trailed off, her expression smug. “Well, let’s just say it’s easier to let me handle it.”

Y/N hesitated. She hated everything about this. But she also hated the constant whispers, the stares, and the endless stream of people trying to insert themselves into her life. As much as she wanted to tell Karina to take her offer and shove it, she couldn’t deny that it would be easier to let the queen of the social ladder scare everyone off.

“Fine,” Y/N said finally. “But I have a few conditions.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh? Do tell.”

“One,” Y/N said, holding up a finger, “this ends the second I don’t need it anymore. Two, you don’t get to micromanage my life outside of this… whatever this is. And three, you don’t get to pull any of your mean girl crap on me. Got it?”

Karina’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course. I’m always nice to my significant others.” She extended a hand. “Deal?”

Y/N stared at her for a moment before reluctantly shaking her hand. “Deal.”

As Y/N walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life. Karina, meanwhile, watched her go with a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Karina murmured to herself, already planning her next move.

Y/N left the café feeling like she’d just signed a deal with the devil. What had she gotten herself into? Fake dating Karina Yoo? The girl who practically ruled Changryeo University with an iron fist wrapped in designer gloves? It sounded insane.

The next day, Y/N started to see the consequences of her decision almost immediately. She was walking to class when she noticed people whispering and pointing at her. Some of the cheerleaders giggled as she passed, and a group of guys from the basketball team gave her an approving nod.

Y/N sighed, pulling her hoodie up in an attempt to block out the attention. But just as she thought she’d make it to class unnoticed, she heard the sharp click of heels behind her.

“Y/N!” Karina’s voice rang out, cutting through the crowd like a knife.

Y/N froze. Here we go.

Karina strutted toward her like she was walking a runway, her designer bag swinging at her side. She was dressed to perfection, as always, in a tailored outfit that probably cost more than Y/N’s tuition.

Karina stopped right in front of her, giving her a radiant smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You were just going to class without me? What kind of fake girlfriend are you?”

Y/N blinked. “I—what?”

Karina sighed dramatically, looping her arm through Y/N’s before she could protest. “We’re supposed to sell this, remember? People are watching.”

Y/N glanced around and realized Karina was right. Half the students in the courtyard were staring at them, some openly gaping, others whispering behind their hands.

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, awkwardly adjusting to the sudden closeness. “But could you maybe not treat me like a handbag?”

Karina laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’re not a handbag, Y/N. You’re an accessory. There’s a difference.”

Y/N groaned. “This is going to be a long semester.”

Later that day, the two of them walked into the dining hall together, and Y/N instantly regretted agreeing to this arrangement. The room went silent the moment they entered, and all eyes turned to them.

Karina didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, she seemed to thrive under the attention, walking with her head held high and a confident smile on her face. Y/N, on the other hand, wanted to disappear into the floor.

They made their way to a table where Winter and Ningning were already sitting. Winter raised an eyebrow as they approached, her expression somewhere between confusion and amusement.

“Wow,” Winter said as they sat down. “So it’s true. The queen of Changryeo has a new trophy.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Please don’t start.”

Karina, however, looked completely unbothered. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked at Winter. “Jealous?”

Ningning snickered, nudging Winter. “I think she’s just surprised. Everyone is. Y/N doesn’t exactly scream ‘Karina’s type.’”

“Hey,” Y/N protested. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Winter shrugged. “You’re not… polished. No offense.”

“None taken,” Y/N muttered.

Karina leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs. “Y/N is refreshing. She’s not trying too hard to impress me, unlike certain people.” She gave Winter a pointed look, and Winter rolled her eyes.

“This is going to be fun to watch,” Ningning said, her grin widening. “You two are so different it’s almost funny.”

“Almost?” Karina asked, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. It’s hilarious,” Ningning admitted.

Y/N groaned again, slumping in her seat. “This was a mistake.”

Karina reached over and patted her hand in an overly dramatic gesture. “Oh, sweetie. It’s not a mistake. It’s an opportunity. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Winter and Ningning burst into laughter, and Y/N could only sit there, wondering how she was going to survive the rest of the semester with Karina Yoo as her fake girlfriend.

Meanwhile…

Karina was already planning their next big “date.” She knew Y/N wasn’t going to make this easy, but that only made it more interesting. Y/N wasn’t like the others—she didn’t care about status or appearances, which made her unpredictable.

For Karina, it wasn’t just about maintaining her social status anymore. There was something about Y/N’s unwillingness to play by the rules that intrigued her. Maybe this arrangement would end up being more fun than she’d originally thought.

But for Y/N, this was already a nightmare. The attention, the whispers, the constant proximity to Karina—it was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get through college quietly and focus on her future. But now, thanks to Karina’s scheme, she was front and center in the social spotlight.

And whether she liked it or not, there was no turning back now.

Y/N was convinced she was cursed. It was the only explanation for why her life had spiraled into this chaotic mess. Before the fake dating arrangement, she was invisible—just a girl who played soccer and tried to keep her head down. But now, every step she took was met with stares, whispers, and the occasional wide-eyed double-take.

Even her teammates had started treating her differently.

At practice the next day, Y/N barely had time to put her cleats on before her co-captain, Sunghoon, jogged over, smirking.

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “So, you and Karina Yoo, huh?”

Y/N groaned, already dreading the conversation. “Don’t start, Sunghoon.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he teased. “You’re dating the most popular girl on campus. You’re practically royalty now.”

“She’s not really my girlfriend,” Y/N muttered under her breath, lacing up her cleats.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sunghoon said, grinning. “You know she’s sitting in the bleachers right now, right?”

Y/N’s head snapped up. “What?”

He pointed over to the stands, where Karina was lounging in her designer coat, her legs crossed as if she were attending a fashion show instead of a soccer practice. She was scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to the curious glances from the rest of the team.

Y/N marched over to the bleachers, her heart pounding. “Karina!” she called, trying to keep her voice low enough so the entire team wouldn’t hear. “What are you doing here?”

Karina looked up, smiling innocently. “Watching my girlfriend practice, of course. Isn’t that what supportive partners do?”

Y/N resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “You didn’t have to come. This is just practice.”

Karina tilted her head, pretending to be hurt. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said immediately. “I mean, no! I mean—ugh.” She ran a hand through her hair, already regretting her decision to agree to this arrangement.

“Relax,” Karina said, waving her off. “I’m just here to make sure the other girls on your team don’t get any ideas. Can’t have them thinking you’re single, now can we?”

Y/N groaned. “Karina, no one on this team thinks that—”

“Y/N! Who’s your friend?” one of her teammates called from the field, cutting her off.

Karina turned and waved, flashing a dazzling smile. “Hi! I’m her girlfriend.”

Y/N could feel her teammates’ collective jaws drop.

“Oh my God,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Later that day…

After practice, Y/N trudged into the dining hall, fully prepared to eat her dinner in peace. Unfortunately, peace wasn’t on the menu.

Karina was already sitting at their usual table with Winter and Ningning. She waved Y/N over as soon as she walked in, her smile bright and attention-grabbing.

Y/N reluctantly joined them, sliding into the seat next to Karina. She immediately noticed the looks from other students in the dining hall. Some were staring openly, others whispering behind their hands.

“Everyone’s staring,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

“Of course they are,” Karina said, flipping her hair. “We’re Changryeo’s new power couple.”

“We’re not a couple,” Y/N said quietly, picking at her food.

Ningning leaned forward, grinning. “You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N. Karina is selling this so well it’s practically an Oscar-winning performance.”

Winter snorted. “I’ll give it to her—she’s committed. But Y/N? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

Y/N sighed, slumping in her seat. “That’s because I would be.”

Karina reached over and patted her hand, her touch light but deliberate. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re doing great. And for the record, you’re lucky to have me as your fake girlfriend. Most people would kill for this opportunity.”

“Most people don’t have to deal with you,” Y/N shot back, unable to stop herself.

Winter and Ningning burst out laughing, and even Karina cracked a smile.

“You’re lucky I find your sass endearing,” Karina said, leaning back in her seat with a smirk.

A few weeks later…

The fake dating arrangement had started to feel like a full-time job. Karina was everywhere—showing up to Y/N’s practices, dragging her to parties, and insisting on coordinating outfits for their “dates.”

But the weirdest part? Y/N was starting to get used to it.

Karina was still Karina—bossy, overconfident, and annoyingly good at getting her way. But every now and then, Y/N caught glimpses of something deeper. Like the way Karina would soften when talking about her younger sister, or how she’d quietly help out a classmate who was struggling without making a big deal about it.

It didn’t make her any less infuriating, but it did make her… interesting.

One night, after yet another party where Karina had spent most of the time pretending to be the perfect girlfriend, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Why are you doing all this?” Y/N asked as they walked back to their dorms.

Karina glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

“This whole fake dating thing,” Y/N said. “You’re already popular. You don’t need me to stay on top.”

Karina was quiet for a moment, which was rare for her. Then she shrugged, her expression unreadable. “Maybe I just like having someone around who doesn’t kiss up to me.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “You… like having me around?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Karina said, smirking. “You’re tolerable. That’s all.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

Karina smiled, and for once, it wasn’t calculated or forced. It was just… genuine.

Over the next month, the lines between their fake relationship and reality began to blur in ways Y/N hadn’t anticipated. Karina was still annoyingly bossy and dramatic, but Y/N couldn’t deny that she was also surprisingly attentive. She remembered little things, like Y/N’s coffee order or how she hated when her cleats weren’t broken in yet.

Y/N, for her part, started to see sides of Karina that no one else seemed to notice. Like how she’d subtly steer conversations away from Winter’s nervous stuttering in class presentations or how she always brought snacks for Ningning, claiming it was “just in case” but always ended up handing them over.

And then there were the moments when Karina’s carefully constructed mask slipped entirely. Like the night of the big soccer game against their school’s rival, where everything changed.

Game Night

The stadium was packed, buzzing with energy as Changryeo prepared to face its fiercest rival. Y/N felt the weight of the crowd’s expectations as she warmed up on the field. Being co-captain was no joke, and all eyes were on her to deliver.

Karina was there, of course, perched in the VIP section with Winter and Ningning. She was decked out in Changryeo colors, her designer coat somehow perfectly matching the school’s logo. She looked like she belonged on a billboard, not in the stands of a college soccer game.

But even from the field, Y/N could feel her presence. Karina’s gaze was sharp, focused entirely on her.

As the game began, Y/N threw herself into it, blocking out everything but the ball, her teammates, and the roaring crowd. By halftime, they were tied 1-1, and the pressure was mounting.

In the locker room, Y/N sat on the bench, trying to catch her breath. Sunghoon clapped her on the back. “You’re doing great out there. Just keep your head in the game.”

“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, wiping sweat from her face.

But her focus was shaken as soon as she stepped back onto the field. The rival team’s captain, a cocky player named Minjae, smirked as he jogged past her.

“Your girlfriend’s got the whole stadium staring,” Minjae said with a sneer. “Must be nice having the queen of Changryeo cheering you on.”

Y/N gritted her teeth. She knew he was trying to get in her head, but it still worked.

By the time the second half ended, the score was still tied, and they were headed into overtime. The tension was palpable.

As Y/N lined up for a crucial penalty kick, she glanced at the stands and locked eyes with Karina. Karina gave her a small nod, her expression serious for once.

“You’ve got this,” Karina mouthed.

Y/N took a deep breath and focused. The world seemed to slow as she approached the ball, her foot connecting perfectly. The stadium erupted as the ball sailed into the net, securing their victory.

Post-Game

After the game, Y/N was mobbed by her teammates and the crowd. She barely had time to breathe before Karina appeared, pushing through the chaos like it was nothing.

“There’s my star player,” Karina said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

Before Y/N could respond, Karina grabbed her face and kissed her.

The crowd went wild.

Y/N froze, her brain short-circuiting. When Karina finally pulled back, she smirked. “You looked like you needed some motivation out there.”

Y/N blinked, still processing. “Motivation? I just won the game.”

“Exactly,” Karina said, flipping her hair. “You’re welcome.”

Winter and Ningning appeared behind her, both grinning like they were enjoying the show way too much.

“Wow, Karina really went all in,” Winter said.

“I’m living for this drama,” Ningning added.

Y/N groaned. “You guys are the worst.”

Karina, however, looked entirely unbothered. She leaned closer, her voice dropping so only Y/N could hear. “Relax. You’re a hero now. Everyone’s going to be talking about this for weeks.”

Y/N glanced at her, a mix of exasperation and something she couldn’t quite name. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you keep agreeing to my plans,” Karina said, smirking.

As the night went on and the celebrations continued, Y/N found herself smiling despite the chaos. Maybe this whole fake dating thing wasn’t as fake as she’d thought.

Later That Night

Back at their dorms, Y/N sat on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Karina was perched on the armrest, scrolling through her phone.

“You didn’t have to kiss me, you know,” Y/N said suddenly.

Karina glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “It worked, didn’t it? The crowd loved it. You’re basically a legend now.”

Y/N shook her head. “That’s not the point. You keep doing all this stuff like it’s some kind of game.”

Karina’s expression softened, just for a moment. “It’s not a game,” she said quietly.

Y/N turned to look at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. “Then what is it?”

Karina hesitated, her walls cracking just enough for Y/N to see something real beneath them. “It’s… complicated.”

Y/N studied her, realizing for the first time that maybe Karina wasn’t as confident and untouchable as she seemed.

“Complicated, huh?” Y/N said, her voice soft.

Karina gave her a small, almost shy smile. “Don’t overthink it. Just… go with it.”

For once, Y/N decided not to argue.

“Alright,” she said. “But if you pull another stunt like that in public, I’m kicking your ass.”

Karina laughed, and the sound was lighter than Y/N had ever heard. “Deal.”

And for the first time since this whole thing started, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, they were onto something real.

The Morning After the Game

Y/N woke up the next morning to chaos. Her phone was blowing up with notifications—texts, Instagram tags, even a few congratulatory emails from professors who were clearly too invested in Changryeo sports. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she scrolled through the messages.

Her teammates had turned the group chat into a full-on meme fest. Screenshots of Karina’s dramatic kiss at the game were plastered everywhere, complete with captions like “Changryeo’s new power couple” and “Karina really said, ‘My girlfriend won the game.’”

Just as Y/N was about to bury her face back into her pillow, there was a knock at her door.

She opened it to find Karina standing there, holding two cups of coffee and a bag of pastries.

“Good morning, star player,” Karina said with a smirk, pushing her way into the room without waiting for an invitation. She set the coffee and bag on Y/N’s desk before sitting on the edge of her bed like she owned the place.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, still half-asleep.

“Damage control,” Karina said, scrolling through her phone. “Your PR image is my responsibility now, remember?”

Y/N blinked. “PR image? What are you talking about?”

Karina rolled her eyes, turning her phone to show Y/N the flood of posts on social media. The school’s official athletics account had reposted a photo of their kiss, and the comments were a mix of admiration, jokes, and speculation.

“Karina Yoo kissing Y/N on the field after the game? Iconic.”

“Never thought I’d see the day Y/N gets swept up by Changryeo’s queen bee.”

“Plot twist: Karina’s actually soft for her.”

“I thought Karina only cared about status. Maybe this is real???”

Y/N groaned, sinking onto her bed. “This is a nightmare.”

“It’s a dream,” Karina corrected, sipping her coffee. “The PR is gold. You’re officially untouchable now.”

“I didn’t ask to be untouchable,” Y/N said, rubbing her temples.

Karina tilted her head, her expression softening slightly. “You didn’t have to ask. That’s what I’m here for.”

Y/N looked at her, trying to figure out if Karina was joking. But her tone was serious, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of her usual sarcasm.

“Thanks… I guess,” Y/N said awkwardly.

“Don’t mention it,” Karina said, waving her off. Then, as if remembering something, she added, “Oh, and don’t forget—we’re going to that party tonight.”

“What party?”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “The victory party, obviously. The soccer team’s throwing it, and as your girlfriend, I have to be there.”

Y/N sighed. “Do I have a choice in this?”

“No,” Karina said with a smug smile. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Gee, thanks,” Y/N muttered.

The Party

That night, the victory party was in full swing by the time Y/N and Karina arrived. The team had rented out one of the biggest event spaces on campus, and the room was packed with students. Music blasted from the speakers, and the energy was electric.

As soon as they walked in, all eyes turned to them. Y/N felt her shoulders tense under the weight of the stares, but Karina didn’t seem fazed at all. She grabbed Y/N’s hand, lacing their fingers together as she led her through the crowd.

“You’re doing great,” Karina whispered, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but didn’t pull away.

They joined Sunghoon and the rest of the soccer team near the bar, where Winter and Ningning were already waiting with drinks in hand.

“Well, well,” Winter said, raising her glass. “If it isn’t the couple of the century.”

Ningning grinned, nudging Y/N. “You look so uncomfortable. It’s adorable.”

“Glad you’re enjoying this,” Y/N muttered.

Karina, however, was in her element. She charmed the team effortlessly, laughing at their jokes and pretending to be genuinely interested in their stories. Y/N couldn’t tell if it was an act or if Karina was just naturally good at winning people over.

At one point, Sunghoon leaned over to Y/N, his voice low. “She’s really something, huh?”

Y/N glanced at Karina, who was animatedly telling a story to the rest of the group. She was gesturing wildly, her face lit up in a way that made it hard to look away.

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly. “She really is.”

Later That Night

As the party wound down, Karina and Y/N found themselves sitting on the steps outside the event space. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the chaos inside.

Karina leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the stars. “You survived your first official event as my girlfriend. How do you feel?”

“Exhausted,” Y/N said honestly.

Karina laughed, her voice soft and melodic. “You’ll get used to it.”

Y/N studied her for a moment, the glow of the streetlights casting shadows across her face. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“Being… you,” Y/N said. “Always in the spotlight, always being perfect for everyone.”

Karina was quiet for a moment, her confident facade slipping just enough for Y/N to see the vulnerability underneath.

“Sometimes,” Karina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s the only thing I know how to do.”

Y/N frowned. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time, you know. You’re allowed to just… be yourself.”

Karina turned to look at her, her expression unreadable. “And what if I don’t know who that is?”

Y/N hesitated, then reached over and took her hand. “Then maybe it’s time you figured it out.”

Karina stared at her, and for once, she didn’t have a clever comeback.

The silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable, and for the first time, Y/N felt like she was finally seeing the real Karina—the one who hid behind all the glitz and glamour.

Life didn’t slow down after the victory party. If anything, it picked up speed. The school was abuzz with gossip about Y/N and Karina’s “relationship.” Everywhere Y/N went, people whispered or stared. Some congratulated her on her game-winning goal, but most wanted to talk about Karina.

“So, is it real?”

“How did you even bag Karina ?”

“Are you two, like, for real-for real?”

Y/N tried to dodge the questions, but Karina seemed to thrive on the attention. She’d casually wrap an arm around Y/N’s shoulder in the cafeteria or bring her a coffee in the middle of class, always with a knowing smirk. It was like a game to her—a game Y/N wasn’t entirely sure she was winning.

By the end of the week, Y/N was exhausted. She trudged into her dorm room after soccer practice, still sweaty and aching, only to find Karina lounging on her bed like she owned the place.

“Do you not have your own dorm?” Y/N asked, dropping her bag onto the floor.

Karina looked up from her phone. “Mine’s boring. Yours has personality. And snacks.”

Y/N sighed, pulling off her cleats. “What do you want, Karina?”

Karina sat up, crossing her legs. “We need to strategize. There’s a gala next weekend, and we have to make an appearance.”

“A gala?” Y/N repeated, groaning. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Karina said, standing up and walking over to her. “You’re my girlfriend, remember? People will expect us to be there together. Plus, it’ll be fun.”

“Your definition of fun is very different from mine,” Y/N muttered.

Karina tilted her head, a sly smile on her lips. “You’ll survive. And who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

The Night of the Gala

The Changryeo University gala was nothing like the sweaty chaos of the victory party. It was a high-class affair, with students and faculty dressed to the nines in designer suits and gowns. The event hall was decorated with glittering chandeliers and pristine white tablecloths, and a string quartet played softly in the background.

Y/N felt completely out of place. She adjusted the cuffs of her borrowed suit, glancing nervously at the crowd.

Karina appeared beside her, radiant in a sleek, black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She looked every bit the queen bee, her confidence practically oozing from every pore.

“You clean up well,” she said, eyeing Y/N with an approving nod.

“You mean I don’t look like a sweaty soccer player for once?” Y/N asked, tugging at her tie.

Karina smirked. “Exactly.”

She grabbed Y/N’s arm and led her into the crowd, greeting people with effortless charm. Y/N tried to keep up, but it felt like Karina was operating on a completely different level.

At one point, they were cornered by a group of Karina’s friends, who bombarded Y/N with questions.

“So, how did you two meet?” one of them asked, batting her eyelashes.

Y/N froze, her mind going blank. She hadn’t prepared for this.

“Y/N heroically saved me from a terrible date,” Karina said smoothly, looping her arm through Y/N’s. “It was love at first sight.”

The group burst into laughter, and Y/N shot Karina a look. She just winked at her, clearly enjoying herself.

Later That Night

After hours of mingling, Y/N finally managed to escape to the balcony. She leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.

A moment later, Karina joined her, holding two glasses of champagne.

“You’re not hiding, are you?” she asked, handing Y/N a glass.

“Maybe,” Y/N admitted, taking a sip. “This whole thing is… overwhelming.”

Karina leaned against the railing beside her, her expression unusually soft. “You’re doing fine.”

Y/N glanced at her. “Why do you even care about all this? The parties, the popularity, the drama. What’s the point?”

Karina was quiet for a moment, staring out at the city lights. “Because it’s easier to play the game than to let people see the real you,” she said finally.

Y/N frowned. “And what’s the real you like?”

Karina turned to her, a small, almost shy smile on her lips. “I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but didn’t look away. For a moment, it felt like the world had gone quiet, leaving just the two of them standing there under the stars.

“You’re… complicated,” Y/N said eventually, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Karina laughed, the sound light and genuine. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

As the night went on, Y/N realized that maybe, just maybe, being stuck in Karina’s world wasn’t as bad as she thought.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 lando norris x  fem! reader (angst) fic summary . . . after a brutal fight where Yn accuses Lando of being a heartless playboy, she realizes the truth behind his shattered expression—he’s been in love with her all along. part 2 to all I've ever wanted (622words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

Two days.

It had been two days since you’d shouted at Lando, and the words you threw at him still echoed in your head like a bad song on repeat. Every time you thought about his face—how he looked at you like you’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it—you felt like the worst person alive.

Because you were the worst person alive.

You’d been friends with Lando for years. You knew him better than anyone… or at least you thought you did. But maybe you never really let yourself see the truth. The boy beneath the jokes and the charm. The one who loved you so much it broke him.

And God, you’d hurt him. Bad.

That’s why you were standing outside his apartment now, heart hammering against your ribs like it wanted to break out and sprint down the hall.

You raised your hand and knocked, the sound loud against the door. “Lando? It’s me. I… I want to talk.”

Silence.

But you could hear the TV blaring inside. Some stupid show, the laugh track playing like a cruel joke. He was definitely in there.

A beat later, the TV clicked off.

You almost laughed, almost, because seriously? Did he really think you didn’t hear that?

“Lando,” you sighed, pressing your forehead against the door. “I know you’re in there.”

More silence.

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t going to let you in. You deserved that, honestly. But you weren’t leaving without saying what you needed to.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, but you kept going. “I was… I was awful to you. I said things I didn’t mean, and I didn’t take you seriously when I should’ve. You’ve always been there for me, and I—” You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. “I hurt you, and I hate that I did. I’m so fucking sorry, Lando.”

You waited. One second. Two. Ten. Nothing.

The weight of his silence crushed you. Maybe he’d never forgive you. Maybe you’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, your footsteps echoing in the hallway.

But then—

Click.

The door swung open behind you, and you froze mid-step.

“Yn.”

His voice was soft, but it stopped you cold. You turned slowly, your heart leaping into your throat when you saw him standing there, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was a mess, his eyes puffy and red, but God, he was still Lando. Your Lando.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice trembling.

Lando stared at you for a long moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Then, finally, he spoke.

“If you mean it…” He paused, eyes flickering down for a split second before meeting yours again. “Kiss me on the cheek.”

You blinked, surprised by the request, but then a small, relieved smile tugged at your lips. You stepped closer, your heart racing as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

When you pulled back, his eyes were still on you, softer now, but there was a glint of something else. Something more.

“And…” he added, clearing his throat, trying—and failing—to sound casual, “make dinner.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Make dinner?”

Lando shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t have anything ready for tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter than it had in days. You knew damn well he just wanted you to stay longer. And truth be told, you didn’t want to leave either.

“Alright,” you said, stepping inside. “But only if you help.”

Lando chuckled, closing the door behind you. “Deal.”

[cece693]

HI BABY!! i read your jasper hale kiss marry kill thing , and i loved , however , i was wondering if you could make one like that but with jacob? :) no pressure!!

Spin The Bottle

pairing: jacob black x gender neutral reader tags: reader and Jacob like each other, but neither make a move, resolved feelings, slight jealousy from Jacob, no timeline but everybody is of age and have turned into wolves, ambiguous if reader is a wolf or not

The flickering glow of the bonfire danced across everyone’s faces, laughter mixing with the gentle roar of the ocean behind you. The smell of salt and burning driftwood filled the air as conversation hummed around the circle of friends on the shore. It was yet another perfect La Push night, and you couldn’t help but feel utterly content—especially with Jacob Black sitting nearby, his smile a constant beam of sunshine in the firelight.

Quil nudged Embry with a grin. “Alright, enough gossip. How about a game?”

Leah raised an eyebrow. “Game? What did you have in mind?”

“Spin the bottle,” Seth suggested enthusiastically, which earned an amused groan from Leah and a chorus of chuckles from the others.

Jacob’s eyes flickered over to you before he could hide it, but you noticed—how could you not when his gaze was so warm? Heat crawled up your cheeks, and you swallowed hard. Something in the air felt charged. You had a hunch Jacob was hoping the spin of a simple glass bottle might just change the dynamic between you two. And maybe part of you hoped for the same.

You shrugged, feigning a casualness you didn’t really feel. “Sure, I’m in.”

Everyone shuffled into a tighter circle, the bottle placed in the center of the makeshift ring on the sand. Paul let out a low whistle and flicked his hand at you with a teasing grin. “You’re first.”

Chuckling nervously, you took the bottle and gave it a tentative spin. Jacob’s knee brushed yours as he stretched out his legs, closer than ever, and you found yourself silently chanting, Please let it stop on him…

But Fate had a funny way of ignoring the best-laid hopes. The bottle slowed and landed on someone else—Embry. A quick hush fell over the group, and then they all burst into laughter or groans, depending on their sense of humor.

Embry lifted his eyebrows in playful surprise. “Guess that’s me,” he said, trying to hide the slight awkwardness in his voice.

You felt a knot form in your stomach. You didn’t dislike Embry—he was a great friend—but this was definitely not the outcome you’d been hoping for. Still, a game was a game, so you offered him a small, friendly smile. Leaning forward, you pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. It was over in a heartbeat—no sparks, no real connection, just the brush of lips and the warm flush of embarrassment flooding your face.

Jacob’s gaze flicked away so quickly you barely caught the disappointment etched across his features. The rest of the pack cheered, teased, and kept the game rolling, but Jacob was suspiciously quiet. Only a few moments later, he stood up, brushing sand from his jeans.

“Hey, guys,” he said, trying—and failing—to sound casual, “I think I’m gonna call it a night. I’m feeling a little tired.” You blinked, watching as he turned away from the group. You knew perfectly well that Jacob never left a bonfire this early, especially when everyone was in high spirits. Without missing a beat, you scrambled to your feet.

A few people in the group noticed. “You okay?” Leah asked quietly, her eyes flicking between you and Jacob.

“I’m fine,” you answered with a tight smile. “I just need some air or something.” You hurried after Jacob, your feet digging into the cool sand as you tried to catch up to his retreating figure. The bonfire’s light grew dimmer behind you, replaced by the shimmering moonlight on the water.

“Jake!” you called, voice subdued but urgent.

He slowed, but didn’t turn around right away. When you finally reached him, you saw his jaw was tense, shoulders rigid. “Hey,” you said gently, stepping into his line of sight. “What’s going on?”

Jacob exhaled heavily, his gaze drifting to the ocean for a moment. “It’s nothing,” he began, then laughed softly, the sound tinged with self-derision. “No, actually, it’s not nothing. I just—I really wanted that spin to land on me.”

Your heart did a little flip. “Jacob…”

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes still averted. “I know it’s a stupid game,” he continued in a rush, “but I can’t shake how much I wanted you to kiss me instead. God, I feel like a jealous idiot.”

You reached out, fingertips just grazing his arm. “Jake, you’re not an idiot,” you assured him. The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself. “I…I wanted it to land on you, too.”

His eyes snapped up to yours, hope etched across his features. “You did?”

You nodded, feeling your pulse quicken. “Yes. I—I like you, Jacob. A lot. And I’m sorry if that kiss made you feel…well, you saw how it was—just a silly game. But you… you’re different. You matter.”

A slow smile spread across his face, warmth flooding his gaze. “I really matter?”

You let your hand slip fully into his, fingers interlocking. “Yeah, you really do.”

Jacob let out a breath he must have been holding for weeks. “If that’s how you feel, would it be okay if I—?”

You didn’t let him finish the thought. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes (or simply leaned in closer, if height wasn’t an issue) and pressed your lips gently to his. He made a small sound of surprise, but it quickly melted into contentment as his free arm came around your back, pulling you in closer. The soft, rhythmic hush of the waves against the shore mixed with the steady thrumming of your heart, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

When you finally broke apart, Jacob’s cheeks glowed with more warmth than the bonfire could ever provide. You gave him a shy, but genuine grin. “Does that make you feel a little better?”

He laughed, a bright, relieved sound. “Much better,” he admitted, gently squeezing your hand. For a moment, you stood there together, moonlight illuminating the two of you. In the distance, you could hear the pack’s chatter and laughter, and the comforting crackle of the bonfire still burned behind you. But here, in this quiet bubble on the shore, you and Jacob existed in your own world.

A soft smile tugged at your lips. “Want to head back? Or do you still feel like you need some time alone?”

Jacob shook his head quickly, still looking a bit starstruck. “No, let’s go back—together.” His hand stayed firmly in yours as you both turned to walk side by side toward the bonfire.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 11

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff

WC: ~2300

Part 1 | Masterlist

“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”

You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.

Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.

“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.

“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”

“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.

“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.

“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”

Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”

You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”

“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.

You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”

“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.

You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”

“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”

Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.

“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”

You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”

Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”

“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.

“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.

“Why not?”

Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”

You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”

Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”

“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.

Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”

Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”

Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”

“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.

“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”

“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.

“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”

“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.

Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”

You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.

“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.

“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.

Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”

Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”

Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”

You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.

“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.

“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.

“Why not?” Bradley enquires.

“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.

“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.

“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”

Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”

You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”

Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.

“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”

You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.

You continue studying your feet. “I think.”

“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.

“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”

Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.

Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”

“What else?” Jake says quickly.

You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”

Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”

Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”

Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”

“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.

Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”

Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.

You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”

Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”

“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.

You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”

Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”

“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”

Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”

“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.

“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.

Jake looks back at you. “He is?”

“How so?” Bradley asks.

You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”

Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”

Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”

You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”

He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.

“Happy,” you continue.

This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.

“Strong,” you say.

“Wow,” Bradley mutters.

Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”

“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.

Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.

Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.

…

Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.

There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.

You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.

He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.

When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.

You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.

Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.

You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”

You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.

“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.

“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.

Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”

“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”

Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.

You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”

“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.

You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”

Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.

“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.

He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”

*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*

Read Part 12

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[its-avalon-08]

max, jealous trope, ferrari driver, she is laughing with carlos

grumpy lover boy (mv1)

✦ pairing - max verstappen x female!driver!reader

✦ genre - jealousy, playfulness, fluff

(i adore this man so much, im dying)

The paddock was alive with energy and excitement as fans and teams buzzed about, preparing for the upcoming race. Max Verstappen stood by Red Bull's garage, his eyes scanning the crowd. He caught sight of his girlfriend, Y/N, across the way at Ferrari's setup, chatting animatedly with her teammates, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.

Max and Y/N had kept their relationship a secret from the public eye, preferring to avoid the added pressure and media scrutiny. It wasn't easy, especially with both of them being high-profile drivers, but they managed to make it work.

As Max watched, Carlos said something that made Y/N laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh that lit up her face. She playfully grabbed Carlos's hand in the midst of her laughter, and Max felt a sharp pang of jealousy.

He clenched his jaw, his mood instantly darkening. Daniel Ricciardo, noticing the change in his friend's demeanor, sidled up to him with a smirk.

As Max continued to watch Y/N laugh with Carlos and Charles, his grumpy demeanor grew more evident. Daniel couldn't resist poking fun at his friend.

"Mate, you're glaring so hard, I'm surprised the Ferrari garage isn't on fire," Daniel said with a chuckle, leaning casually against the wall beside Max.

Max grunted, not taking his eyes off Y/N. "She's just laughing at his joke. It's no big deal."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Sure, no big deal. That's why you're standing here looking like someone just stole your lunch."

Max shot him a look. "I'm not… okay, maybe I am a little jealous. But can you blame me?"

Daniel laughed, clapping Max on the back. "Oh, I don't blame you. It's just funny seeing you all whipped. Never thought I'd see the day."

Max rolled his eyes, though he couldn't hide the small, begrudging smile. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

"Seriously, though," Daniel said, his tone softening a bit. "She really does have you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she?"

Max sighed, his gaze softening as he watched Y/N. "Yeah, she does. And I'm fine with that. Just wish I didn't have to watch her being all friendly with Carlos."

Daniel smirked. "Well, look on the bright side. At least it's Carlos and not someone like… I don't know, Lewis."

Max groaned at the thought. "Don't even joke about that, Dan."

Daniel chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, mate. She's yours, and everyone can see it—even if they don't know it."

Max nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. "Thanks, Dan."

"No problem," Daniel said with a wink. "Now, let's get back to work before you burn a hole through Carlos's head with that death stare of yours."

Max finally tore his gaze away from Y/N, shaking his head with a smirk. "Alright, alright. Let's go."

As they walked away, Max couldn't help but glance back one more time, feeling a mix of jealousy and adoration for the girl who had him completely and utterly whipped.

(jumping to carlos and y/n)

Carlos noticed Max's intense glare from across the paddock and shifted uncomfortably. He turned to Y/N with a concerned expression.

"Y/N, did I do something to upset Max?" Carlos asked, his eyes wide with worry.

Y/N followed his gaze and saw Max glaring at them, his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, you didn't do anything, Carlos. He's just being a bit… overprotective."

Carlos let out a sigh of relief, though he still looked a bit uneasy. "Are you sure? Because he looks like he's ready to come over here and punch me."

Y/N chuckled, giving Carlos a reassuring pat on the arm. "Trust me, it's nothing. Max is just a little jealous, that's all. He'll get over it."

Carlos's worried expression softened into a smile. "You two are really cute together, you know that?"

Y/N blushed slightly, glancing over at Max who was still sulking. "Thanks, Carlos. It's not always easy, but we make it work."

Carlos grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "I don't know how you manage to keep it a secret with how obvious he is sometimes."

Y/N laughed again, the sound light and cheerful. "I guess we just have to be careful. But it's worth it."

Carlos nodded, giving her a supportive smile. "Well, if you ever need any help keeping the secret, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Carlos. I appreciate it," Y/N said, genuinely grateful for his understanding.

Carlos glanced over at Max once more, then back at Y/N with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe you should go over there and give him a little reassurance. Before he starts plotting my demise."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, maybe I should."

As Y/N made her way over to Max, Carlos watched with a smile, glad to see his friend happy—even if it did mean occasionally dealing with a very grumpy and jealous Max Verstappen.

(cuteness incoming)

Y/N made her way across the paddock toward Max, her heart warming at the sight of his grumpy expression. She slipped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back.

"Hey, you," she said softly.

Max stiffened for a moment before relaxing into her embrace. He turned around, his eyes locking onto hers, and without a word, he cupped her face and kissed her passionately. Y/N melted into the kiss, her arms sliding up to wrap around his neck.

When they finally broke apart, Max rested his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy. "You have no idea how much I needed that," he murmured.

Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on the back of his neck. "Feeling better now?"

Max huffed, his grumpy demeanor still lingering. "A bit. Just… don't like seeing you so close with Carlos."

Y/N chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You know there's nothing to worry about, right? It's just you and me."

Max sighed, his arms tightening around her. "I know. I just can't help it sometimes."

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes filled with affection. She began peppering his face with soft kisses—his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and finally his lips again. "There, all better?"

Max couldn't help but smile, the grumpiness slowly fading from his features. "Yeah, all better. You always know how to fix me."

She grinned, giving him one last kiss. "That's my job, isn't it? Besides, I like seeing you smile."

Max's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with love. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Max," she replied, resting her head on his chest. "Now, let's go back to work before Daniel makes even more fun of you."

Max chuckled, his mood considerably lighter. "Alright, but only because you asked so nicely."

Hand in hand, they walked back toward their respective garages, ready to face the rest of the race weekend together, their bond stronger than ever.

[internetdaddy98]

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 5

Previous | Next

[Series Masterlist]

Content Warning: some cutesy shit

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It started with her hands.

Not in the poetic, romantic way he was afraid it would, but in the way they moved when she was talking, fast and animated, like they had to help her get the words out. He’d noticed it the first time they presented a case together to the surgical team: how she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear mid-sentence without realizing it, how her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the chart when she was nervous.

It was subtle. Innocent. But it stuck.

Robby had made a career out of noticing things other people missed. That was his job—track vitals, patterns, bleeding underneath the surface. He wasn’t supposed to notice things like the way Dr. Williams tilted her head when she was listening, or how she smiled with one corner of her mouth first. But here he was.

And once he noticed Y/N, he couldn’t un-notice her.

She didn’t walk around the ER so much as moved through it—like she belonged, like the fluorescent lights had grown around her. She had this way of making space wherever she was, a quiet confidence that didn’t need to raise its voice. Robby didn’t know when exactly he’d started watching her more than was professionally necessary, but he was definitely past that point now.

They had been working together for a month now, and he found himself looking forward to it in a way that was deeply concerning.

Not that he was going to act on it.

He was 15 years her senior, and he didn’t date doctors. He’d made that mistake once, and he’d barely survived the fallout. The drama, the whispers, the impossible tension that hung over every shared shift. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

But Y/N was making it really fucking hard to remember why.

They had offered to swap to night shift to relieve some of the doctors attending Dr. Walsh’s wedding.

It was close to 2 a.m. when he caught her laughing in the hallway.

Not the polite kind, either. The real kind. Head thrown back, a hand on her stomach, laughter that startled even her. It echoed off the tile like something alive. Whittaker had made a joke—poorly, Robby assumed—and Y/N was clearly humoring him. But it worked.

Robby stood at the end of the corridor, chart in hand, pretending to scroll through labs while his brain tried to ignore the stupid little tug in his chest.

She saw him as the laughter faded, and her smile softened instantly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Didn’t know you were still human at this hour.”

“I transcend human after midnight,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

He didn’t answer right away. He was too caught in the way the soft overhead light hit her face, the way exhaustion looked almost... graceful on her.

“You should sit,” he finally said. “You’ve been running around since 7.”

“So have you.”

“I hide it better.”

“Debatable.” She smiled again, smaller now, but it still hit him like something he wasn’t ready for.

He looked away first.

They ended up restocking supplies together an hour later. It wasn’t assigned—just one of those unspoken things where they both show up in the same place at the same time when they’re not ready to face reality.

He watched her sort gauze and tongue depressors with unnecessary precision. She always did that when she was trying not to say something.

“You ever sleep?” he asked casually, leaning against the metal shelf.

“Not recently. I power nap. Like a cat.”

He smirked. “Should’ve guessed.”

“You?”

“Sleep?” He shrugged. “I try. Doesn’t always stick.”

There was a beat of quiet while she dropped a handful of saline flushes into the drawer.

“You’re different at night,” she said suddenly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Less... sharp. More human.”

“Sharp?”

“You know what I mean,” she said. “During the day, you’re kind of intimidating. At night, you’re…” She trailed off, eyes flicking toward him.

“Less scary?”

“Still a little scary. But in a grumpy mentor kind of way.”

He chuckled, caught off guard by how warm that made him feel. “You trying to flatter me, Williams?”

“I’m just stating facts.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched her finish the drawer and close it with a soft click.

“Do I intimidate you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She looked up at him, her expression soft. “Not the way you think.”

And then she left.

He stood there alone for a few seconds too long, staring at the now perfectly aligned drawer of saline flushes.

It wasn’t the way she said it that got to him—it was the look in her eyes. That she meant it. That something between them had shifted, almost imperceptibly, but real enough to make his chest feel uncomfortably tight.

He didn’t intimidate her.

Not the way he thought.

And for the first time in a long time, Robby wasn’t sure if that scared him—or made him want to keep following her down the hallway until she turned around and said whatever was really on her mind.

[izzih22]

Epilogue: Ours, Out Loud

Note: the final chapter of this series. Enjoy!!

The first time they told someone, it wasn’t planned.

It had been a bit since Paige left Virginia, and in that time, the two had gotten used to the rhythm of loving each other from afar. FaceTime calls that lasted until the sun rose. Stolen photos sent mid-practice with hearts drawn sloppily over their faces. Handwritten notes slipped into care packages—Azzi’s soft curls drawn in blue ink by Paige with the caption “My favorite painting.”

They were happy. Still private. Still theirs.

But when Azzi’s mom, Katie, came into Azzis room on a Friday night and Azzi layed in bed with her head tucked under Paige’s hoodie—Paige’s hoodie she was very obviously wearing again—it only took about three seconds for Katie to squint knowingly.

“You’ve been wearing that hoodie for days,” Katie said casually, sipping from a mug. “Is that your girlfriend’s or something?”

Azzi choked. Paige, visible one FaceTime, froze like a deer in headlights.

Katie blinked. “Wait—what.”

Azzi looked at Paige, then back at her mom. Her heart pounded.

Paige leaned over in screen and said gently, “Hi, Mrs. Fudd.”

Katie blinked again, then slowly broke into the warmest, smuggest smile Azzi had ever seen on her.

“Oh,” Katie said, setting her mug down. “So it is my daughter’s girlfriend’s hoodie.”

“Mooooom,” Azzi groaned, burying her face into Paige’s side.

“You didn’t tell me!” Katie laughed. “I’ve known for years you two were orbiting each other like little lovesick planets. I thought I was going to have to wait until your wedding to get the confirmation.”

“We… weren’t ready yet,” Paige said quietly, arm wrapping protectively around Azzi.

Katie’s teasing softened into something gentler. “I get that. Really. But I’m so happy for you both.”

Azzi peeked at her mom, cheeks flushed. “You’re not mad we didn’t say anything?”

“Mad? Sweetheart, I’ve been praying for this since… well forever,” Katie grinned. “Just promise me you’ll be kind to each other. Protect what you have.”

Paige smiled staring at Azzi and without thinking. “I already do.”

⸻

Telling Tim, John, and Jose was next. It came in the form of a chaotic game night. Paige and Azzi had joined as a team—playing Spades like they were trying to qualify for the Olympics—and when Paige casually dropped a “babe, your turn” mid-play, all three of Azzi’s family members stopped talking.

John blinked. “Wait, babe?”

Jose pointed. “Yo. Did Paige just—did you just say—”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Am I going to need to give a speech, or is this the part where I say I’m proud?”

Azzi laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. Paige smirked, unapologetic.

“We’re dating,” she confirmed, hand resting possessively over Azzi’s knee.

There was a pause. Then:

John: “Knew it.”

Jose: “Finally!”

Tim: “Took you long enough.”

Paige glanced sideways at Azzi, her smirk shifting into something tender. “Worth the wait.”

Azzi leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder and whispered, “Definitely.”

⸻

By the time they told Paige’s family, it was nearly summer. Paige flew home again, and Azzi joined a few days later—invited under the pretense of just “hanging out before training camps.”

Her mom had packed snacks for the flight. Paige had sent her a picture of her freshly cleaned room with the caption “Your throne awaits.”

They didn’t hide it anymore.

Azzi held Paige’s hand in the airport.

Paige carried her bags.

They shared a quiet kiss outside the terminal while waiting for Paige’s brother to pull up, and Paige didn’t care who saw.

The Bueckers’ home had always felt like a second one to Azzi—but this time, everything felt different. This time, she was more than Paige’s best friend. She was hers.

Paige’s mom, Amy, wrapped Azzi in a hug the second she stepped through the front door.

“I figured it out awhile ago,” she said softly against Azzi’s shoulder. “I just waited for you two to figure it out yourselves.”

Azzi laughed, teary-eyed. “We’re slow, huh?”

Amy smiled knowingly. “The best love stories take time.”

⸻

Late one night, curled up on Paige’s couch with a movie playing and no one else awake, Azzi rested her head on Paige’s chest and traced invisible shapes over her stomach.

“We still haven’t told our teams,” she whispered.

Paige’s fingers played with the ends of her curls. “I’m not rushing that. We’ll know when.”

“I kind of like it like this,” Azzi admitted. “Quiet. Just us. No noise.”

Paige kissed her forehead. “Me too.”

Azzi sat up slightly, propping her chin on Paige’s shoulder. “But when we do tell them, can we just… show up holding hands and let it click?”

Paige grinned. “Classic.”

“Dramatic.”

“My style,” Paige teased, stealing a kiss.

Azzi melted into it, soft and sweet, fingers gripping Paige’s shirt.

Their world was still theirs. Still quiet. Still sacred.

But now, it was also expanding.

⸻

The first time they called each other “girlfriend” out loud, it happened like this:

Azzi was on FaceTime, giggling at something Paige said while standing in the middle of a hotel hallway during a team trip. One of her teammates called out, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

Azzi, without thinking, answered, “My girlfriend.”

There was a pause on the line. Then a chorus of whoops behind her.

Paige heard it and grinned into her pillow. “Smooth.”

Azzi looked proud. “About time I said it out loud.”

Paige smiled, heart full. “Say it again.”

“My girlfriend,” Azzi repeated, slower this time, letting it roll off her tongue like it belonged there.

And it did.

⸻

In the fall, when they returned to their teams, the long-distance routine became real again—but different now.

There were weekend visits and handwritten letters. A Spotify playlist that only grew longer. Pictures of workouts captioned “don’t forget who your favorite point guard is.”

They didn’t tell everyone, but they didn’t hide.

Paige would kiss Azzi’s cheek before boarding a flight. Azzi would wait by the gate to watch her disappear.

They had something real. Something rooted in years of friendship, loyalty, love.

And now they had each other, fully and openly.

No more waiting.

No more almosts.

Just Paige and Azzi. Together.

⸻

One Year Later

Their first anniversary was quiet.

They were at a small cabin near the lake where they used to train in the summer, completely off the grid for the weekend. No social media. No cameras. Just them.

Paige brought a photo album she’d been secretly building all year. Azzi brought a necklace with both of their initials carved into the back.

They sat by the fireplace, curled up under a blanket, music low, hearts full.

“You’re it for me,” Azzi whispered, forehead pressed to Paige’s.

“You always were,” Paige replied, voice soft, hands holding hers. “Even before we knew.”

And then they kissed, slow and deep, wrapped in a love that had taken years to grow but was now entirely theirs.

Their love wasn’t perfect.

But it was real.

And it was finally, finally theirs to share—with the world, with their families, with each other.

No more hiding.

No more waiting.

Just Paige and Azzi.