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guksvault · 2 months ago

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THE TIDES OF US | JJK

Oneshot

pairing: firstlove!jungkook x firstlove!(f.)reader

synopsis: returning to Busan was never meant to be anything more than temporary. but when you’re faced with the boy who shaped your heart and engraved his initials upon it, are you able to pick up where you left off or will the tides of Busan wash away everything you once knew?

w/c: 8.6k

warnings: first love reunited, angst, angst snd some more angst, coffeeshopowner!jk, two dummies who apparently can’t communicate!, eventual smut (just one scene!), titty appreciation, unprotected sex (dont be silly!!), yummy make outs, crying :(, actually no! sobbing!, so many questions, matchalover!reader, both 22!!!, um um um, jjk has a shaggy mullet bc i cant help myself!!!, too many emotions that both characters r overwhelmed by! i think thats it lol idk, enjoy pls <3 mwah

!minorsdni!

It had been a total of 1614 days since you last walked through the city of Busan. Four years and six long months since your parents had uprooted your lives and moved to London after an opportunity to expand your father’s company at the age of 18.

The sun warms your skin, the scent of sea salt lingers in the air. It's all familiar, yet somehow all so foreign.

Passing by street food stalls where you once spent your last bits of change, benches where you watched sunsets over the sea with your first love, and photobooth stands you’d drag them into at every chance. It was all so familiar, yet distant, flooding you with a wave of emotions—nostalgia, longing, and a twinge of sadness for how those days had slipped through your fingers, leaving only memories behind.

You find yourself frozen inside a beachfront café, convinced the sun has given you heatstroke and that this is just a hallucination. It couldn’t be him. There’s no way.

A tall, doe-eyed boy stands across from you, one arm adorned with intricate tattoos, a shaggy mullet framing his chiseled face. He’s frozen too, staring right back at you.

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook watches as you approach the counter hesitantly, his gaze fixed on you. He wants to reach out, to touch you, to see if you’re really here—or if you’re just an illusion his brain conjured up after that extra cup of coffee today.

“Shit- No fuckin’ way? What the fuck?” Is all his pretty little lips that were now adorned with a silver ring could say. His brain was racing, eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“You speak to all your customers like that?” you say playfully, a small laugh escaping your lips.

The smile that forms on Jungkook’s lips is almost painful to see—his old bunny-like teeth on display, the way his nose scrunches and forms those little wrinkles just like it used to, and that little dimple that peeks out, the one he used to say was from all the kisses you pressed to his cheek.

“Still a smartass, huh?” Jungkook teases, biting the corner of his lip and toying with the metal ring.

You hum in response, words getting lost. You’d forgotten you were standing in line, the sight of Jungkook in front of you after so long making you forget the patrons waiting behind you.

“I’ll just take a—”

“Iced Matcha, hm?” Jungkook finishes your sentence, not meaning to, just an instinct. Back when the two of you were inseparable, you’d always push him to try it, but it never worked. He still didn’t like it—at least, not until you left. Now, he ordered it on the days when loneliness got the best of him, or when anniversaries would roll around, the ones that you used to spend hand in hand.

You take a seat at a nearby table, staring out the glass windows that frame the view of the beach. Your thoughts are scrambled, knots forming in your stomach from the situation at hand. It had only been 15 hours since you’d returned to Busan, and already the world felt like it was playing some sick joke on you. Torn between wondering if this was fate or if the universe was rubbing everything you had lost in your face.

A takeaway cup, adorned with a sleeve that reads ‘Golden Hour,’ is placed in front of you.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s as he stands there, a tight, closed-lip smile on his face. He looks down at you, half-thinking he might actually pass out if you keep looking at him like that—eyes round and innocent, like nothing has changed. When you stand up, only inches away from him now, there’s no counter between you. He could reach out, touch you, and see if this is real—or just another one of his recurring dreams. He decides not to, not wanting to risk it and find out this is all just his subconscious fantasies playing out.

Your lips wrap around the straw, the sweet liquid filling your taste buds—just how you always liked it. Sweet, not too bitter, with extra whipped cream.

“Pretty fucking good,” you say.

It’s silent for a moment, neither of you sure what to say or do next.

“When did you get ba—”

“I should get goi—”

An awkward laugh escapes from both of you, hands fiddling with the straw in an attempt to keep busy, while Jungkook rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, of course, I should get back to it. Coffee won’t make itself,” Jungkook rambles. You nod, he nods. You give an awkward smile, and he mirrors it back to you. It’s all a little juvenile, reminding you of when you were both in high school—too awkward to communicate, too caught up in the butterflies that fluttered in both of your stomachs.

You thank him again, turning to leave and heading back out into the heat of Busan’s air. Half of you thinks you should ditch the drink and dive headfirst into the ocean, trying to rid yourself of the emotions bubbling inside you.

“Hey—” Jungkook catches up with you just before your hand touches the door to leave. “Can we—like, catch up? I finish at 8:30? If you want… I know you’re probably busy. Could do it another time. If you want—”

Jungkook had always been a rambler—he’d ramble on and on whenever he was nervous, excited, or hiding something. It was a habit you picked up on early in your relationship, a tell that always gave him away. His words would get all jumbled and his speed of speech would increase, right before he’d admit something weighing on his mind.

“Did you change your hair? Did you curl it? Or is that more of a wave? Is your hair naturally like that? Did you have to wake up early to do that? Sorry—I mean, you look pretty.”

“The waves are big today, right? Wonder why. Probably something to do with the moon or something. Hey—did you know that sometimes female crabs eat their own babies if they get too stressed? Shit, sorry. I’m in love you.”

“You’re leaving? Okay, well, London is nice, apparently. Did you know Big Ben isn’t the name of the tower, just the bell inside? Weird, right? Fuck, please, stay.”

“8:30? By the benches?”

Jungkook lets out a small breath of relief. He doesn’t need to ask you to specify which benches—there were plenty along the beachfront, but he knows exactly which one you mean. The same one where he first told you he loved you.

“8:30. Benches. Perfect.”

Your fingers scrolled mindlessly over your phone as you sit on the bench, your foot tapping lightly against your other foot out of nervousness as you wait for Jungkook.

Two hands come to cover your eyes from behind you, skin cool against your warm cheeks, “Boo!”

Your own hand attempts to reach behind you, blindly trying to swat Jungkook, “Little shit.” You giggle.

Jungkook laughs, and the sound fills the air like a familiar melody you didn’t know you missed so much. He lets his hands fall away, stepping in front of you with that trademark half smirk.

“Wanna go sit on the beach?” Jungkook smiled, he was dressed in an oversized black tee, matching baggy jeans to match, his apron that was tied around his waist a few hours prior long gone now, dressed so casually yet, eyes from anyone passing by would automatically be drawn to him.

He’d always been that way—the main attraction in any room he entered. Girls would swoon over his doe eyes and pretty smile, boys would try to replicate his style and confidence, and grandmas would pinch his cheeks and slip in a good word for their granddaughters. You’re sure the attention’s only grown since then. He’d shed that baby face, swapped it for a bad-boy look with tattoos and piercings, and it only seemed to suit him more. You’d bet the creator of Jeon Jungkook had spent extra time perfecting him, as if to apologise for all the other men they had created. There was only one Jeon Jungkook, and he stood before you now, cocking his head towards the beach, waiting for you.

You find a spot on the sand to sit, the small waves washing onto the shore not too far from the two of you. Your hands dig into the sand beside you, letting the soft sand pour from between your fingers.

“Didn’t know you were back. Are you?,” Jungkook asks softly, his own fingers dragging back and forth through the sand in front of him, “Are you back?”

You let out a small laugh, “For a little I guess. Dad’s got a project in Seoul, so I decided to join him. Staying in a hotel just over there.” Your forefinger points to the side a little lazily.

“So, not back?”

“Back for a little.” You counter.

Jungkook lets out a small laugh, “Does anyone know? Surely Jimin or Hobes would have told me.”

“Nah, it was a last minute thing, just got here last night.”

Jungkook hums in response, was a little bummed that you weren’t here for good. He had secretly hoped that you had moved back, found his café, and came to find him.

“Can’t believe you own a fucking Cafè Kook.” You spoke with pride, he had always said he would open his own one day, and you knew he would, just didn’t expect it to be at the age of 22.

Kook. The nickname rolls off your tongue so easily. It fucking punches him in the gut. He could barely handle making eye contact with you, or how your hands brushed against his when you took the cup of Matcha from him. But that? No that was too much, he loved when you would call him that. It always sounded so delicate, so sweet. Memories of you calling out to him when you would spot him at the exit of the subway, how when the two of you would argue you would still say it with a tone so gentle, or when you used to whisper it into his ear late at night when he wasn’t being as gentle with you.

“You look good,” Jungkook almost whispers, his eyes moving towards you. When your eyes meet his, he physically cannot look away, locked in, whether he likes it or not.

“Yeah?” You smirk, a light warmth rushing to your cheeks. “You look like absolute shite.” You bite your lower lip, fighting the laugh threatening to escape.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Was tryna have a moment, you fuckin’ idiot.” He laughs, tossing some sand onto your lap as he shakes his head.

An hour passes, then two, then three. The two of you sit on the beach, a place that once defined the bond between you—where you spent the majority of your free time together. Holding hands as you walked the shoreline, chasing each other down the beach after one of you kicked cold water at the other unexpectedly.

Three hours lost in conversation, answering questions about London, Jungkook filling you in on the latest drama with your old friend group, reminiscing about the times you both shared.

“Did you get to meet the queen?”

“Remember when you got dunked by that wave and your fuckin’ swim shorts fell off?”

“Jimin is still a slut. Hoseok is still dancing. Joon owns a fuckin’ reading café with Jin—pricks are heavy competition.”

“You didn’t have to walk me all the way here” you giggle, fidgeting with the swipe card for your hotel room.

Jungkook scoffs, playfully. “Always have walked you home.” The glow from the lobby lights highlights his face, and you can’t help but notice the way his tongue toys with his lip ring. You know you should turn around, but that small action stirs something, turning the butterflies in your stomach into something more chaotic.

You hum, a soft laugh escaping. “Night, Kook.” You walk backward toward the door.

“Tomorrow. Don’t forget. Benches. Lunch.” He smirks, raising a brow.

You stop in the doorway, hesitating. “Goodnight” doesn’t feel like enough. Turning back, you catch him watching you, hands buried in his pockets, looking as if he’s watching you leave again, back to a place where he can’t follow you.

You walk toward him without thinking, wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace that feels like slipping back into a dream. His hands find your waist instantly, like they’ve been searching for this moment just as long as you have. He holds you tight—too tight—but you don’t mind. Isn’t letting you slip away again.

His head tucks into the crook of your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The scent of his shampoo, the same one you used to lather into his hair during lazy mornings together, fills your senses. Your fingers tangle into the soft strands, and for a second, it’s like no time has passed at all.

It’s dangerous, how familiar this feels. How easily you could sink back into this, into him. The weight of four years, the ache of everything unsaid, presses against your chest. You’re not sure if this hug is healing you—or breaking you all over again. But right now, you don’t care. All that matters is him, here, holding you like he’s trying to rewrite the past.

Neither of you move. Neither of you speak. The silence feels fragile, like if one of you breathes too loudly, the moment will shatter. You close your eyes, trying to memorise the way this feels. The warmth. The safety.

“Fuck—I’ve missed you.” His voice is muffled, but you feel the words more than hear them. They vibrate against your skin, settling deep in your chest.

Your throat tightens. “Me too, Kook.” Your arms tighten around him, just for a moment. “So much.”

For a fleeting second, you allow yourself to believe that this could be enough—that holding him like this could somehow fix everything. But then his phone buzzes in his pocket, a sharp reminder that the world outside still exists. You feel him tense, the hesitation in his hold. And when you pull back, his hands linger for just a second too long, like he’s reluctant to let you go.

You meet his eyes, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. Just watch each other, silently wishing for the other to not leave.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

It’s been 9 days of feeling the warmth of Busan’s sun kiss your skin. 9 days of savoring authentic food that you missed in London. 9 days of hearing the sound of Jungkook’s laughter fill your ears.

The last week has been nothing short of a dream you once wished for. Most of your days are spent beside Jungkook—revisiting your old hangout spots, splashing in the cool water of the beach, or even letting him try to teach you how to use his extremely overpriced coffee machine at his café.

Today was no different. You both left the café side by side, iced lattes in hand, no real destination in mind—just happy to be beside each other.

“Ah! Kook! Look! We have to go, we have to!” You beamed, your finger shaking toward a photobooth stand just a few meters away.

Jungkook doesn’t need to look to know exactly what you’re pointing at. He already knows—your excitement was always a dead giveaway whenever a photobooth was in sight. He’d let you drag him in, spend too much time taking way too many photos. Would never say no, he loved it too, capturing moments between the two of you, sometimes he would purposefully plan dates in locations he knew would have a photo booth close by.

He laughs softly, shaking his head, “You haven’t changed a single bit. You know that, right?”

“That’s not true,” you tease, “My tits have at least doubled in size.”

Jungkook’s face freezes for a moment, a slight heat creeping up his neck. He’d noticed. Hell, he’d caught himself staring more than once, but he always tried to focus on your eyes instead, failing most times, told himself you hadn’t noticed. You had.

You slap the brim of his black cap gently, snapping him out of his daze. “Hello? Stop thinking about my tits. Can we please?”

“Wasn’t thinking about your tits, freak,” he laughs, his cheeks flushed. “Go.”

You slide into the cramped photobooth after Jungkook, closing the curtain behind you. It was an older booth, no fancy filters or props for you to use. Two options; Colour or Black&White.

Jungkooks fingers pressed against the screen, knowing you preferred black and white.

The first few shots are a little awkward. A small space forcing you and Jungkook to enter one another’s space, you had one of your legs hooked over his thigh, one of his arms around your back to stop you from sliding off the metal seat of the booth.

“These are all ridiculous, my fuckin’ eyes are closed in half of them” Jungkook whines, flipping through the strips of photos. He wasn’t wrong, they mostly were of you both laughing or pulling some very unattractive face.

“Fine, one more. Proper one.” You smile, sitting a little straighter in the booth.

Jungkook presses the settings again. The countdown begins. Your head leans against his softly, both of you smiling.

Snap.

Jungkook looks at you, takes in your side profile, the way your hair falls so effortlessly around your face, the small lines that form around your eyes as you smile and laugh.

Your eyes turn to meet him, he almost looks pouty. Taking all of you in.

“What?”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty. Still so fuckin’ gorgeous.” He whispers.

Your eyes widen slightly, lips resting ajar slightly ready to say something but no words form to escape. His teeth tug on his lower lip ever so slightly as his eyes search yours.

Snap.

It's silent, both of you searching in eachothers eyes for something, anything. You swallow lightly, your eyes dropping to his lips where his teeth tug slightly, his lip ring flipping and causing your stomach to flip in unison.

His hand around your back moves to the side of your jaw, his thumb caressing over your cheek so softly you can only just feel it. You move in closer, your lips inches from his. Need this. Need you. Kiss me please.

Jungkook’s eyes shift to your lips, and his breath hitches for just a second. The usual confidence he carries falters, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. His hand, resting near your cheek, twitches, as if torn between pulling you closer or pulling himself away. The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words, but his eyes lock with yours again, and before either of you can think, his lips are on yours.

Snap.

Whatever thoughts had been running through his mind were quickly discarded. His lips crash against yours, you freeze for a moment, before your lips begin to work in partnership with his.

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook’s tongue to softly run against your lower lip, seeking entrance. When he’s met with your lips parting as an invitation he wastes no time. His tongue slides against yours, the way they work together makes it feel like no time has passed at all. So in tune with one another, knowing exactly what each other needs, exactly how one another like it.

The kiss grows heavier, soft grunts, light tugs of teeth against lips, pulling each other closer. No care for anyone passing by or if the curtain had moved. All either of you cared about was savouring this moment. Becoming one. Fuling eachothers fires.

Snap.

The faint sound of the photostrip being printed faded into the background, a distant reminder of the world outside. Neither of you moved, lips still entwined, reliving the taste of what once was. Touches so frantic yet familiar, hands grasping like they were afraid to let go, like holding tighter could stop time.

This was home.

Not a place, not a city—but this feeling. Safe, consuming, and so full of passion. London never offered that to you. And Jungkook lost the feeling of Busan being home as soon as you boarded that plane four years ago. But right here, in each other’s arms, it all made sense again. Like coming back to something that was always yours.

It isn’t until Jungkook’s phone starts to ring, the vibration rattling loudly in his pocket, that the moment shatters. His forehead rests against yours, as he lets out a quiet hiss of frustration.

“Fuck—sorry,” he mutters, eyes still half-lidded, voice low. “It’s probably work. I should take it.”

It’s not the first time his phone has stolen him away. You’d noticed it all week—calls that made him step aside, texts that pulled his attention mid-conversation. You told yourself it was just work, the demands of running a business.

Jungkook lingers a second longer, his hand brushing your knee as if reluctant to leave, before he finally slips out of the booth, leaving you alone with the aftertaste of a kiss that had ignited a fire that had been yearning for a flame for years.

You take the photos, pausing for a moment to flick through the dozen strips of memories captured on film.

Stepping outside, your eyes squint as they adjust to the bright sunlight above the beachfront. You scan the area, looking for any sign of Jungkook. It doesn’t take long before you spot him by a small gift shop, his fingers absentmindedly tracing over little beach-themed trinkets and keychains—miniature waves, seashells, and beach umbrellas.

“Everything okay?” you ask, stepping up beside him. Your fingers instinctively start to trace over the small ornaments, though your mind is still replaying the moments his lips were pressed against yours.

He slides his phone back into his pocket, offering you a soft glance before letting out a small sigh, which he quickly masks with a chuckle.

“Yeah, all good. Work,” he mutters, his lips tugging into a half smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry, again.”

You smile lightly, dismissing it with a wave of your hand. “It’s fine, Kook. Really.”

Then, with a small tilt of your head, you give him a silent cue to follow you. You turn and start making your way back along the strip.

He follows beside you, his usual confident, bubbly persona dulled slightly. His hands don’t reciprocate the small touches yours give him, and his laugh comes out flatter than usual.

It ties your stomach in knots. Maybe the kiss was a bad idea. Maybe he’d already come to regret it—scared of being left by you again, or maybe he’d come to the conclusion that you just weren’t his cup of coffee anymore.

His feet follow for a few steps, but then he falls behind again. “Shit, I’m sorry.” His eyes meet yours as you turn to face him, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “I gotta go take care of some stuff back at the café.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, of course,” you smile, though it feels strained. When Jungkook sees the corner of your lips upturn, he thinks he can physically feel his heart twist. “I get it, go.”

Jungkook goes to speak but bites down on his lower lip to stop himself. He lets out a quiet huff of breath through his nose before making his way toward you.

His long, muscular arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Tomorrow? We’ll go to that hotpot place you used to froth over.”

His lips are gentle as they press a kiss to your forehead, and his hand holds your cheek as he gives you one last look before turning to head back to the cafè.

You wandered through the city, your feet tracing the familiar paths, but nothing felt quite the same. Every turn you took, every glance you stole at the places you had once visited with Jungkook, only deepened the ache in your chest. The weight of the kiss—the heaviness of the aftermath.

Jungkook’s absence was noticeable. The way he’d distanced himself after the kiss, the way he’d pulled back, had left you questioning everything. Was it something you imagined? Maybe he didn’t feel the same. Maybe for him, it was just a fleeting moment, a mistake.

You’re overthinking this, you told yourself. Maybe he just needs time. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just reading too much into it. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t leave it like this.

The thought of leaving things unanswered felt wrong. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when you felt like something wasn’t. You needed to know if he had regretted it, or if he had changed his mind. The idea of him slipping away without ever acknowledging what had passed between you was something you couldn’t stomach.

With a deep breath, you turned towards the café. You didn’t know what to expect, but you knew you had to go. For closure, for peace, or maybe just to hear his side. You told yourself it wasn’t about getting back what you once had, but about understanding what this all meant now.

The small bell above the door chimes as you step into the café. It’s lively, filled with groups of friends and couples, some snapping photos of their colorful drinks and beach themed pastries, others simply enjoying the ocean view that stretches out in front of them.

“Hi, welcome to Golden Hour! What can I get you started with?” A perky brunette greets you from behind the counter.

“Is Jungkook in?” you ask, trying to keep your voice casual, but there’s a slight tightness in your chest that you can’t shake.

The brunette tilts her head, brows furrowing. “Jungkook? He hasn’t been in since this morning. Can I leave a message for you or something?”

A sudden weight settles in your stomach.

“Oh, no. That’s alright. I’ll just… come back later. Thanks anyway.” You force a smile, but it feels off—like you’re holding your breath, not quite sure what to do with the information.

Your mind races as you leave the café, your brows furrowed in confusion. He said he was going back to the café… So why hasn’t he been here? The questions circle in your mind: Is he okay? Why would he lie? Was it just an excuse to create some space between you two? Maybe he has an office away from the café? The doubt gnaws at you, leaving an uncomfortable feeling as you head back to the hotel, your mind nowhere near settled.

You chose to spend the rest of your evening wrapped in blankets, munching on some takeaway watching terrible reality TV, desperate to escape your own.

It had been working, your eyes and ears were glued to the catfight playing on the flatscreen on the wall opposite your bed, until your phone had chimed beside you.

| 8:40pm

kook: u free? need to see u.

A simple straightforward message, one that you didn’t need to read into, but you did. Perhaps he had come to the conclusion that he needed his lips on yours again, or was ready to tell you that it was something he didn't want to partake in again.

| 8:42pm

You: level 7, room 613 :)

A simple straightforward reply. You wonder if Jungkook was reading into all your words and actions. Questioning them and romanticising them too.

A soft knock echoes from the opposite side of your door 20 minutes later. You’re quick to make your way towards the door, opening the door to see Jungkook, his hair messily falling around his face, dressed in sweats and a tee that was complimenting his figure a little too well.

“Hi stranger.” You tease, pushing the door to open wider to let him in, “Long time no see.”

He enters, his eyes darting around the room. It’s a decent-sized hotel suite, the soft light from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the cozy seating area. The hum of the TV buzzes through the room as it flickers softly in the dim room. His eyes flicker between the bed and the small chair in the corner, unsure where to take his seat.

“I’m currently way too invested in Khloe Kardashian going to jail, so bed it is.” You laugh as you make your way into the room, sitting back into your side of the bed.

He rolls his eyes playfully, letting out a soft chuckle as he makes his way to the opposite side of the bed.

You both let silence fall upon you, eyes glued to the TV but neither of you are really listening.

“You still watch this shit?”

“If ‘this shit’ means ‘incredibly addictive and entertaining cinema’, then yes. Absolutely.”

This was probably the 9th time you’d watched this season. You could probably (no, definitely) recite the dialogue of the scenes yourself.

It was a quirk of yours to rewatch the same shows, the same movies, over and over again. You liked knowing how things ended, hated the suspense of being in the dark about the things you enjoyed—just like now, not knowing where things stood with Jungkook. It was easier to replay the past than to deal with the uncertainty of the present.

“Was everything okay at work?” You muse softly, eyes still on the TV, your eyes avoid Jungkooks, don’t want to see him lie to you.

He hesitates for a moment, adverting his gaze back to the TV, “Yeah, yeah. Was a bit of a shitshow, but it's fine.” He mumbles, shifting against the bed.

You hum softly in response, silence falling upon the both of you again. Jungkook is the one to break it this time.

“I’m sorry,” He turns to face you, “For having to dip, know we had plans and all.”

Your eyes meet his, they take in the look that’s rested on his face. His hair falling around his face, his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, his eyes are locked on yours. All big and doe-eyed that you get lost in them, forget that he left, forget that he lied about going back to the cafè, forget that he had been standoffish after his lips crashed against yours.

“Do you regret it?” The words leave your lips before you can stop them, “The kiss, I mean.” You almost wince, your head inches back slightly as if you’re bracing yourself for the answer Jungkook could give you.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, his chest tightening slightly at the thought that you had been thinking that he had been avoiding you because of regret.

“Oh fuck— No! Fuck, no of course I don’t regret it,” He sits upright, turning his body towards you and runs his hand through his hair, he can see your eyes searching his own for any reason to not believe him, “Are you kidding? Do you know how long I’ve been wanting that? I fuckin’ dream about it, have since you left. No, fuck, I promise, I would never regret it.”

You let out a shaky breath, not sure what to say or do. The answer he gives you puts to rest any anxiety you had been harboring about him regretting the kiss, but a feeling of uncertainty still lingers in your chest. Why then?

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

When Jungkook’s gaze falls over your face, a sick feeling coils in his stomach. Sick to his stomach? Maybe love-sick too? You look so conflicted—your eyes darting back and forth between his. A small smile graces your lips, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and that sends a sharp jolt of self-hatred down his spine.

His hand reaches out, takes yours into his, “I promise you. I fuckin’ swear, I have never and will never regret you. Never.”

“That makes one of us.” You joke, a playful tone in your whisper, your own fingers intertwining with his, a perfect fit.

Jungkook laughs, shakes his head and squeezes your fingers between yours, “Fuckin’ idiot.”

The air between you feels lighter, hands staying locked together. There isn’t much conversation, not enough words that feel significant enough to truly convey how you both feel.

As the mood shifts, the air grows hotter. Tension rises between you, one that could rival the heat of Busan’s sun. You inch closer, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, both of you subconsciously leaning in. Your hands grow bolder, silently roaming over each other.

"Kiss me," Jungkook whispers, his lips barely grazing yours. "Fuck-please."

No need to be told twice. You've heard him loud and clear. Your lips meet his, softly at first, applying just enough pressure to let him know you're all in. His hand quickly finds the back of your head, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

Your tongue slides gently into his mouth, tangling with his in a rhythm that feels like it's been building for ages. His hands move to your waist, tugging you closer, pulling you into him. Without hesitation, you straddle his lap, your lips never disconnecting. The feeling of your body pressed against his, the heat intensifying, sends him into overdrive. A soft grunt escapes his lips, muffled against yours, as his grip tightens.

Your hands move to the hem of his shirt, bundling the fabric into your palms and pulling it up and over his head. As your lips pull apart to help remove his shirt, your eyes connect, his normal doe eyed look replaced with his eyes narrowing, desperation and need shining from them.

Jungkook's lips leave a trail down your neck, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer as you straddle him. You can feel his breath against your skin, shallow and quick, as if he's trying to steady himself.

"Wait, I-" He pulls back for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. There's something in them. Something he wants to say. But before he can, you pull him back to you, your lips crashing against his again, desperate for the taste of his lips.

He groans against your mouth, his hands pulling you in closer . The words from before, the hesitation in his eyes, are forgotten as the moment swallows both of you whole.

You can feel the firmness in Jungkook's pants pressing up against you, your hips begin to slowly grind back and forth against him, desperate for friction, desperate for some kind of release.

"Fuck, Kook," you whisper breathlessly between kisses, "Want you. Need you." Your words stir something in him, a tension so thick it makes his chest tighten with need. He groans low in his throat, hands moving to your waist to pull you closer.

His hands move from your hips up to your back, roaming chaotically, they come forward, they press against your chest and squeeze lightly. He pulls his head back, watches as his hands slightly dig into your breasts.

“Shit- Look at you,” He hisses between his teeth, his hands coming to squeeze again. His eyes lift up to you, your cheeks flushed with a soft blush from the heat of it all, lips slightly ajar, thinks you look so perfect. Too perfect. It makes his stomach flip, “Fuck, I need to te-”

His words are cut off as you lift your own shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest to him, his hands immediately coming to cup them again. A low, raspy groan leaves his lips, squeezes them again, harder this time.

Any words that were threatening to leave his lips are long gone, washed away in the tsunami of desire and adoration he has for you. Forgotten, swept away by the tide. The only words he’s able to muster up now are whispered curses through his teeth as you pull his head softly towards your chest.

His lips press against your skin, hungrily. He simply can’t get enough. You, you, you. It’s all he hears. All he wants. His eyes peek up to look at you as his lips wrap around your nipple, softly sucking.

The feeling of his soft lips wrapped around you makes you whine softly, your fingers tugging slightly on the ends of his hair. When you look down to see his round eyes looking right back at you, you’re sure you’re going to melt. Happy to let the tide consume you, will become one with the waves if it means having Jungkook like this.

He sucks, kisses, tugs slightly over your sensitive nipple, going back and forth between each one. Can't get enough. Is all in, all for you.

Your hips lift slightly, a silent plea for him to rid himself of his sweatpants. He notices-of course, he notices-but for a split second, his hands falter at the waistband, a thought flickering in his mind. It vanishes almost as quickly as it comes, overpowered by the pull of you. His hands move quickly now, tugging his sweatpants down and kicking them off in one fluid motion.

Grabbing your hips, he pulls you back toward him, his grip firm yet tender, presses a soft kiss against your lips. With a soft grunt, he flips you onto your back. There’s urgency in the way Jungkook moves, showing you just how badly he needs you right now.

He watches as your hips lift slightly, your thumbs hooking under your waistband, sliding off the last barrier between you and him.

He swallows, hard. Is in awe of everything that is you. His eyes trace every curve, every detail he had once memorised. He almost marvels at how well he remembers your body-every point that makes you tremble, every spot that leaves you breathless. But is he really surprised?

How could he be? He has carried you with him in every way possible, mimicking how he used to love you with everyone after you, always chasing the high you had once given him. It's always been you, all he's known.

As your hand comes to rest against his cheek, your thumb gently ghosting over his lower lip, you send him a small nod. Please. Let’s do this. Need you now. You, you, you.

His eyes search yours for a brief moment, as if to confirm this is real, that this is really happening. Then, with a softness that contrasts the heat between you, he tilts his head, pressing a delicate kiss onto the pad of your thumb.

The warmth of his lips lingers there before he lowers his head into the crook of your neck, where he pauses. He inhales deeply, letting your scent ground him. His lips press against your skin.

Your legs part, as he slowly lets himself fall into you. A low, desperate moan leaving his lips. “Ah—Fuck.”

The whine that leaves your lips is made up of a thousand different reasons— The slight burn of Jungkook sliding inside you, the release of built up tension of waiting for this moment, and above all, the most powerful: Love. All the feelings you had sworn you had moved past during the distance are back, as if they had never left.

His hips slowly begin to rock back and forth, finding a steady rhythm as the familiarity of your walls tightens around him. Heavy breaths fill the room, and he feels your nails dig into his biceps, a soft yet desperate plea. He wants you to leave your mark, to scar him, so that he carries a permanent tattoo made from you.

His hand moves from beside you, to your chest, cupping onto your pillowed tit. Is brave enough to look at your face now, and when he does and see’s your lips parted, brows furrowed— He’s done for.

His hips slam into you, the pace quickening, desperate now. Your legs part wider, your back arching against the mattress as the rhythm shifts.

"Fuck, Kook. So good," you whimper, almost pathetically, your hands gripping his arms. “So, so good, Kook."

He curses through his teeth, lifting his upper body between your legs as he keeps thrusting into you. His hand moves down your stomach, his nails grazing lightly, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

He watches himself sink in and out of you, the new angle making his heartbeat race. His finger continues its journey down your torso, finally finding your clit.

Soft, delicate circles are drawn over your sensitive bud. He wants to push you to the edge, overstimulate you, but he's not sure how much longer he can last like this. He's overstimulated himself, finally feeling you wrapped around him again-and it hurts. It hurts because it's been so long, hurts because he knows nothing will ever compare to this, and it hurts knowing he might never have this again.

"So fuckin' pretty like this, my baby," he grunts, the pet name slipping from his lips so naturally, it only pushes you closer to the edge. "So, fuckin' perfect for me, aren't you?"

Baby. It shouldn't sting, but it does. It reminds you of the tattoo needle that had pierced your skin five years ago, a thin line replicating a wave on your ribcage. The kind of sting that leaves you sore, but somehow addicted to the pain.

"Fuck, Kook, you're gonna-Ah, shit. You're gonna make me cum." You moan, your elbows digging into the bed as you struggle to hold your weakening body up.

His free hand presses against your inner thigh, pulling it forward as his other continues to rub tight, precise circles over your clit. "Cum," he groans, his brows furrowing so deeply you swear they'll leave a mark. "Cum for me, baby. Show me. Let me feel you, hm?"

Your stomach tightens, your elbows giving out, sending your head crashing back against the mattress. You try to push his hand away from your overstimulated clit, want to stay like this forever but it's no use-he's never been one to lose.

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, mixing with the wet sound of his skin slapping against yours, each thrust desperate and bold.

He feels you tighten around him, your walls pulsing in small, desperate spasms. Soft whines of his name leaving your lips that send him into overdrive. The sensation drives him wild, completely lost in the sin that is you.

It doesn't take long before Jungkook follows suit, his teeth digging into his lower lip as his eyes squeeze shut, his orgasm washing over him, emptying deep inside you.

His hips rock slowly, still moving against you as he rides out the waves of pleasure, his lips pressing desperate kisses against yours, drinking in your whines.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, his face finding comfort in the crook of your neck once more. The room falls silent, filled only with the sound of both your heavy breaths, struggling to regain normalcy.

"Shower?" You whisper into his ear, pressing a soft kiss against his lobe. He doesn't answer, only nodding against your skin.

You start the shower, letting the warm water cascade over your body. It tries to wash away any trace of his lips on your skin, but it's no use-his marks are invisible now, etched into your memory, and ones that only you two will ever know are there.

You’ve washed your body, your hair, your face, but Jungkook still hasn’t joined you in the shower. You dry off, throwing on the oversized tee that was hanging in the bathroom, and make your way back to the bedroom.

Jungkook is sitting on the bed, his figure dimly lit by the changing flashes from the TV screen. His back is to you, but his head hangs slightly between his shoulders.

“Kook?”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t reply. You walk towards him, kneeling down in front of him, positioning yourself between his legs. Gently, your hands reach for his wrists, pulling them away from his hanging head.

“Kook? Hey—what’s going on?” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, the reassurance in it only making Jungkook feel worse.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “So, so fucking sorry, my baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your brows pinch together in confusion, your face full of concern. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. Kook—talk to me.”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, letting his hands fall limply against his lap. His eyes are glassy, bloodshot, and his lower lip trembles as he tries to speak. “I fucked up,” he breathes out, almost choking on the words. “I’m so fucking sorry. You have to believe me, I’m so sorry.”

Your hand gently cradles his face, your thumb wiping away the stray tears as they fall. His face leans into your touch, a small kiss pressed into your palm, and that simple gesture sends him into a sob.

“What are you talking about, Jungkook? Talk to me— I can’t help you if I don’t understand.” Your voice is soft, trying to soothe his panic, but there’s a hint of fear to it.

“Kiss me. Please,” his voice cracks, eyes locked onto yours with a desperate plea. “Please, kiss me.” His words are broken by sobs.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to navigate this. He’s never been this vulnerable, and you’ve only seen him cry a handful of times—never like this. Gently, you kneel, brushing stray hairs from his forehead.

Your hand lifts his chin slightly, and you press your lips to his. It’s slow, painfully slow. Jungkook’s hands find their way to your face, gripping it with force, as though grounding himself. He tries to deepen the kiss, but all that escapes him is another sob.

You pull back slightly, sitting back on your knees, but just as you start to pull away, his hands catch yours, holding them gently before they can drop to your sides.

“Please, Kook.” You beg softly, your voice a mix of confusion and desperation.

“I didn’t mean to fuck this up. I really didn’t, my baby. I—fuck, everything just happened so fast. Everything’s been a mess, and then you showed up, and it just got even more fucked. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You’re still trying to make sense of what he’s so sorry for—kissing you? Sleeping with you? Regretting it? Not wanting this anymore? You have no fucking idea.

“Kook…I don’t know what the fuck you’re trying to say.”

His eyes meet yours briefly before they dart away, unable to hold your gaze. His lips part to speak, but another sob escapes him, followed by a curse that cuts through the air.

“I— I have,” his voice cracks, “Fuck, I have a girlfriend.”

Your body freezes, stone cold. Your hands go limp in his, your chest tightening as your breath quickens.

His eyes meet yours, tears falling down his face, lips trembling as he tries to find anything to say. “Please— I can explain, I swear. I— Fuck, you know that’s not who I am.”

Your hands rip away from his, standing up and stepping back, your brain completely void of thought, overwhelmed by a gut-wrenching scream that echoes through your mind.

“What?”

He stands up, his hands reaching for you again, but you take another step back. The small distance between you feels painfully familiar.

“Please— me and her, we were already on our last breath before you showed up. I just didn’t have the balls to do anything about it. But then you, you came, and I—”

“You’re fucking joking, right?” You almost laugh, tears brimming in your eyes. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”

His head shakes as he searches for the right words, hating the sight of your tears, but feeling utterly helpless. Seeing you cry because of him makes him want to dig his own fucking grave.

“Is that why your phone’s been blowing up? Is that why you didn’t go back to the café today? Because she was waiting for you?”

“Stop— Please, baby, I promise. I was going to end it tonight, but I needed to see you first, and then— Fuck, I got lost in you again, in feeling you. I— Please, baby.”

“Oh, it’s my fault?” Your voice cracks, bitterness cutting through the air. “I’m the reason you cheated? I’m the reason you lied?”

“Baby, no. It’s all fucking mine. I fucked it up. I wanted to tell you, was going to when we first hung out. Fuck—I just got so caught up, seeing you again, then I kept pushing it back, avoiding it. Didn’t want to ruin us.”

“Get out.”

He sobs, his voice breaking, “Please—fuck, please. We can figure it out. Please, baby.”

“Stop fucking calling me that, Kook!” You push at his chest, feeling like you’re being suffocated by the weight of his presence. London doesn’t sound so bad now. In fact, maybe it’s even too close.

He lets you push him, knowing he deserves it. Knows this is probably the last time your hands will ever press against his body. He stumbles back, letting you shove him toward the door as his sobs echo, watching helplessly as your tears fall.

“Please, get the fuck out. Fuck off, go. Leave.” You spit between the shoves. His back presses against the door, your pushes no longer having the same effect. Instead, you let your head drop against his chest, your shoulders shaking as you cry.

Your hands grip the shirt that clings to his frame, your voice quiet but cracked, laced with sobs, “Why the fuck did you do this?” You’re barely holding it together. “Why fuck me over? Why did you fucking do this?”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over them softly, but nothing can ease the hurt between you. He can’t say anything to make this right, can’t justify why he kept this secret, why he didn’t tell you sooner.

He wants to—God, how he wants to sit you down and explain everything. He wants to tell you that his relationship with her had been hanging by a thread long before you even walked into his life. That it was a ghost of what it had once been, both of them too scared to be the one to end it. They hardly spoke anymore, both just avoiding the inevitable end.

But he knows there’s no point now. He fucked up. He’s still in a relationship, even if it’s nothing but a shell, and that’s a reality he can’t escape. He knows what he did was wrong. And even though the feelings for you that had resurfaced swallowed him whole when you walked into his coffee shop, he was greedy. He let himself want you, even though he knew this situation cursed any chance of a future between you two.

“I love you.” He whispers, broken.

And you know he does. You’ve felt it, felt what it’s like to be loved by Jeon Jungkook.

His hand reaches for the door, twisting the handle. Your hands fall from his shirt, your arms hanging at your sides as your breath shakes in your chest. You take a step back.

His hand gently cups your face, brushing away the tears that keep falling. When you look up at him, his sob is painful, raw. It only grows louder when your own hand rests over his.

He presses his lips to yours one last time, desperate, consuming. He breathes you in, as if trying to make this moment last forever, but the kiss ends too soon.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice barely a breath.

The only response is the sound of the door locking behind him, his departure sealing the silence of your suite.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook oneshot #jjk oneshot #bts #bts oneshot #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook and reader #bts fanfic #by ioveartfilm

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chukys-mouthguard · 3 months ago

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what are the odds? | part 5

matt rempe x female reader; featuring numerous side characters

social media au!

part 4

your.name.here

liked by addison.clark, alleyrempe, francesca.kreider and 317,402 others

your.name.here what the cake says 💋

alleyrempe booking a flight and flying in asap

liked by your.name.here

user41048 wait what?! They were just together in Calgary and seemed good?! 😭😭😭

-> user62048 if they can’t last then i give up 🥲

addison.clark nothing some cake and wine can’t fix 😘

-> your.name.here more like lots of cake and wine

-> francesca.kreider i know a jacket we could burn 🙈

-> francesca.kreider but apparently chris said he gave the boy a talking to

-> addison.clark k’andre called him immediately lol, the boys aren’t letting him fuck this up

liked by your.name.here

-> your.name.here well maybe we don’t burn the jacket then just yet 😬

user31048 WHAT. HAPPENED?!

-> user63048 no clue because they were just at stampede…but seems like he did something

-> user63048 and kreider and k’andre are trying to help fix it lol

tybauer_ he says he’s sorry

-> your.name.here well he can tell me himself if that’s the case

mattrempe if you’d answer my texts and calls i could apologize

this comment was deleted by mattrempe

mattrempe I’m sorry 😞

user20549 what did he do????

-> user52048 i don’t think it was something with another girl

-> user10459 it’s probably just been the pressure of the public on their relationship making them uncomfortable or something

liked by your.name.here

user07493 can she let him apologize so they can fix things? They look so happy together 😭

liked by mattrempe

mattrempe

liked by trevorzegras, tybauer_, chris.kreider and 345,130 others

mattrempe hockey boy summer 😎

alleyrempe matthew rempe…the caption, really?

-> mattrempe i thought it was funny…

-> alleyrempe not with the shit you’ve got going on right now, it seems a bit like a dig

-> mattrempe let me get my shovel to get myself outta this hole 🫠

liked by your.name.here

user40275 soooo they aren’t together??

-> user10489 he says the caption was a joke, but it appears like a response to her post 😬

-> user70248 big yikes…

trevorzegras let me know if you ever want to pass along a few inches so i don’t look so damn short next to you big fella 😎

-> mattrempe i like my inches where they’re at 😎

chris.kreider dude, k’andre and I are gonna beat your ass

-> kandre.miller i like to think it’s one too many punches to the head that have him acting this way but…

-> mattrempe the caption was a joke! I’m sorry! 🙃

user20458 i feel like it’s something serious if they are all giving him so much shit…

-> user10383 did we all forget he’s literally 22? Like he probably did something dumb and they are just trying to help him fix what he had with her

liked by alleyrempe, your.name.here, and kandre.miller

-> user10348 they probably see she’s good for him and just want him to fix it, i don’t think it was something bad

liked by mattrempe

your.name.here hockey boy summer must be real fun without me cheering you on

this comment was deleted by your.name.here

your.name.here can you take a break from hockey boy summer for 5 minutes to talk??

liked by mattrempe

#matt rempe angst #matthew rempe fic #matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl smau #hockey smau

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minnieminshi · 11 months ago

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Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament.

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family (it's minor and only mentioned like once)

Word Count: 9.9K (I was possessed lol)

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao.

Author's Note: this fic made me realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol. Also if I only count the days I actually sat down to write this fic it only took me 3 days lol, but I had 3 tests this week and had to be productive so that nerfed me. This is also the first fic I'm posting in this app so bare with me lol and in honor of Scoups and Jeonghan getting cleared to return to activities, I present the beginning of this series

Sporteen Masterlist

Sitting in the school’s library, all your chemistry notes laid out, you began to rethink agreeing to tutor the school’s hockey captain, Choi Seungcheol. With another glance to your phone, you sighed, ten minutes passed what the two of you agreed to meet at. If you didn’t like your chemistry teacher as much as you do, you would have never agreed to do this.

He’s a sweet guy, I’m sure he won’t give you any problems!

But it’s only ten minutes and sometimes things come up. Maybe he’d walk in after a few more minutes and then you two could finally start.

Except those ten minutes slowly morphed into thirty minutes, forty five minutes, and now suddenly it’s an hour and not a single word from Choi Seungcheol about where the hell he’s at.

And while having to wait an hour for someone to show up to something they needed sucked, that’s not what pissed you off. What pissed you off was the fact that after this tutoring session, you had a date with Changkyun, set up by your friend Somin, but thanks to the no show Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush home, get your little brother ready for the evening and get ready for your date. And while you could hypothetically get everything done in time, you would prefer it if you didn’t have to rush. Your little brother’s probably gonna complain about his quick dinner of chicken nuggets and macaroni after you promised him yesterday you’d make him what he called an “actual meal.” You reminded him that he was twelve and fully capable of cooking for himself and suddenly the quick meal was the best thing he’s ever eaten.

So he could survive a rushed meal, however getting ready for your date was a different story. Rushing to get ready in the morning for school was one thing. You could halfass an outfit and get your brother out the door in fifteen minutes flat if your mom was already at work, but you needed a little more time to actually look good enough for someone who wasn’t related to you or hasn’t seen you slumped over your desk with textbooks and notes sprawled all over the floor.

Now, because of Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush, something you wished wouldn’t happen.

“Sweet guy my ass,” you mutter under your breath as you begin shoving your things into your backpack. Just as you finished shoving the last textbook into your backpack, a deep voice caught you off guard before you rolled your eyes.

“Where’re you going princess, aren’t you gonna tutor me?”

Oh?

Letting out a low chuckle, you turn to face the captain who you wished you could smack that smirk off his face and crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned against the table. “Tutor you? I agreed to tutor you an hour ago, and since that’s passed, I’m heading home to go enjoy my evening.”

As you turned around to grab your backpack and go home, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him holding onto you, a hesitant look in his eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shook his hand off.

“Look, I’m sorry about being late, but something came up.” He muttered, his hand falling to his side as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. You scoffed as you shouldered your bag. “Too busy to send a heads up?”

You look up to see a light blush dust his cheeks as he looks away from you, and if you weren’t so pissed at him, you’d find him kinda cute.

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed as you glance at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, you turn to the hockey player. “Look, I have plans so I can give you 45 minutes.”

“Forty five minutes? That’s barely any time to learn anything,” he complained with a small pout on his lips as you rolled your eyes. “Take it or leave it Choi, you’re the one who was late.”

He let out a small huff before agreeing to the terms, pulling out a chair as you pulled out your phone, setting an alarm for exactly 45 minutes. Thankfully tutoring him wasn’t terrible, he actually seemed to listen to you and he even took notes while you explained the most recent lesson to him. Maybe if he was kind enough to send a message earlier you might actually feel bad about leaving, but alas that wasn’t the case.

With the default alarm ringing, you began packing up your things once again, this time, really just throwing everything with no regard as to how things landed in your bag. With a little speeding you should be able to make it home in about fifteen minutes which gives you about ten minutes to make your brother’s dinner and have about thirty minutes to get ready for your date. Perfect timing as long as you leave right now.

Just as you begin to walk away, pulling up your little brother’s contact to tell him you’re on your way, Seungcheol calls you out. “Are we still good for next week?” You freeze, slowly turning to look at him as your phone rings. “Next week? Listen Choi, I think it’s best if you find someone else to tutor you.”

Before he can say anything, you cut him off. “Listen, I have things to take care of after school and I can’t wait for over an hour, wondering if you’ll show up. I’ll tell Ms. Park to find someone else and we don’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” With that, you walk out the library, your little brother having finally picked up and making things easier for you as he grabbed all the food you told him to.

Looks like things will be going back to normal after today, no more having to worry about Choi Seungcheol.

Or so you thought.

What you didn’t expect to see when coming to pick up your little brother from his little hockey club practice is Choi Seungcheol out on the ice, with your little brother excitedly talking to him about who knows what.

You internally groan, why, just why did he have to be the one to coach your little brother’s team. And why did you have to say you’d never see him again, it’s like you were asking for the universe to play a cruel prank on you by making sure this would happen to you.

Weeks ago, when your little brother asked you if you could start taking him to a hockey club he joined every Saturday, you didn’t see any issue with it initially. As long as he had the proper gear (that your guys’ mom provided) you thought it was great he found a sport he enjoyed after he burned through basketball, soccer, tennis, and baseball in a matter of a few years. Plus it meant you could have Saturday to yourself for a few hours while everyone else was out of the house. So a win-win in your book.

Or so it was a win before you were left in disbelief, standing off to the side as you watched him talk to Seungcheol. You shook your head, calling out his name as you made your way to the plexiglass wall, wanting to go home. You made the rookie mistake of walking into the rink with no jacket, thinking it would be a quick run of picking him up and going back home. How foolish of you to think things would work out for you.

You let out a small gasp as you made eye contact with your little brother, holding it for a few seconds, only to have him ignore you and continue to talk to his coach, who you knew was aware of your presence. You groan, grounding the heels of your palms into your eyes. Oh how you wished you were an only child in moments like this. Instead you were cursed to be a big sister to a little brother who made your life oh so difficult.

Calling out his name one more time, he finally looked over at you and started to make his way off the rink. You sighed, thankful you weren’t going to have to resort to actually going out on the ice to drag him out.

“Took you long enough, I’m freezing over here,” you said once he was at the wall, carefully stepping onto the non-frozen ground with his skates. “That’s on you for not bringing a jacket into the rink.”

“And that’s on you when all you get for dinner is a slice of bread,” you say when you hand him his sneakers that he had put on the seats before practice had started, and where his backpack was. “Can’t believe you feed me like I’m some paperboy from the 1900s,” he grumbled, but he took the shoes.

Before you could shoot back a reply, Seungcheol skates up to the wall, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes, wishing he’d go back to doing figure eights or whatever the hell he does on the ice. He calls out your name but you choose to pretend you don’t hear him, instead leaning down to grab your brother’s backpack, a small groan leaving your lips from the sheer weight in his bag. It’s like he carries rocks in this thing, you complain as you shoulder the bag. He shoots you a look as if asking why are you carrying my backpack, but he doesn’t question it, you know the whole gift horse saying.

Just as he finishes tying his shoe, Seungcheol crosses the threshold, leaning against the door as he eyes you. You could feel your eye twitching as you watched him what looked like inspect you, and you fight back a groan when he smirks at you.

“What happened to never seeing each other again prin-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you grit out, hoping your little brother could help you if he truly cared about you. You glance over at him, and just from the look in his eyes, you know he’s not helping you out. It’s like his eyes are shining with awe just from being near Seungcheol and you wonder what your little brother sees in him.

He can’t be that great, you still– well hate’s not the word, that’s too strong, it’s more so you greatly dislike him for what he did a week ago. You still think it was shitty of him to not tell you anything about being late. And of course his cocky personality is really starting to get on your nerves, especially when he calls you princess, as if you two are that close. You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times and yet he calls you a petname as if you’ve known each other for ages. It just makes your skin crawl.

“You know each other?” Your brother asks, poking his head into the conversation as he looks between the two of you. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol butts in, “she tutors me.”

Your jaw drops as he smiles, as if he didn’t just lie to your little brother. It’s like every time he opens his mouth he finds a new way to piss you off. You dryly chuckle as you grab your brother’s shoulder, trying to guide him away so you can leave. “I don’t, now come on, I gotta start prepping dinner.”

“But it’s Saturday, we usually eat out today,” he says and you give him a tightlipped smile. “I just feel like cooking today so why don’t we go home now.”

At that, it seems like your brother finally puts the pieces together, and nods his head. Just as the two of you are about to leave the rink, Seungcheol calls out your name once again. Already knowing what he’s going to ask you shake your head. “I’ll tell Ms. Park on Monday to find someone else to help you.”

And with that, you’re gone and Seungcheol’s on his own again, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get his chemistry grade up without your help.

“Do you hate Scoups hyung?” Your brother asks once you pull out of the parking lot, your car currently playing I’ll Make a Man Out of You as you let out a confused sound. “Scoups? Is that what you guys call him,” you chuckle, finding the nickname a little silly.

“He said he doesn’t like people calling him his full name,” he explains with a shrug. “Now, do you hate him?”

Wow, he’s really not letting this go.

You sigh as you look over to your right. He’s looking at you expectantly, as if there’s this great and terrible backstory to explain why you wanted to leave the rink as soon as the hockey player approached you. When you tell your brother what happened a few days ago between the two of you, he just rolls his eyes. Yes rolls his eyes, as if being forced to wait an hour for someone to show up isn’t a good enough reason to dislike a person.

“He apologized, what’s the big deal?” He asks, and it’s moments like this when you're reminded your brother is just a boy. “It’s the fact he made me wait an hour with no heads up that I’m still upset about.” Your brother looks over at you, a small smile on his face. “I think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he had a reason why he was late. I don’t think he meant to blow you off like that.”

You blink, letting his words sink in for a moment before shaking your head, focusing back on the road. “Let’s stop talking about Choi and focus back on planning your essay that you have due on Monday.”

He groans, throwing his head back onto the headrest, complaining about why his teacher needed them to write about an important person in their life. “I’m going to write about our dog,” he mutters once the two of you pull up into the parking lot of your apartment. You chuckle, locking the car as he holds open the elevator for you. “We don’t even have a dog.”

“Ms. Kang doesn’t know that.” He shrugs and sometimes you wonder how your brother’s made it this far. “Whatever you say Frosty, but that essay better be done by tomorrow since mom wants us to go out to eat for dinner.”

“Hey Frosty’s a pretty good name for a dog, you think I could use it for a husky?”

“You know what, go crazy dude.”

The last thing you expect when you were walking to the parking lot, heading over to the middle school to go pick up your brother, was to be pinned against a wall in the science building, much less to see Choi Seungcheol, on his knees, begging for you to not talk to Ms. Park.

You could only blink, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Did he hit his head too hard from a fall on the ice or something? Feeling a little embarrassed, you try getting him back on his feet before anyone walks down the hall. Thankfully he gets up, but unfortunately he keeps you pinned to the wall, towering over you.

“Choi, what the fuck’s gotten into you,” you mutter, trying to push him slightly away from you, putting some breathing space between the two of you.

“Please don’t talk to Ms. Park to find a replacement tutor.” He quietly says and you could feel your jaw drop. No fucking way he’s still on this. You put your hands on his shoulders, effectively getting him to look at you. “You can’t be serious.”

He groans as he closes his eyes, as if he was thinking of what the best thing to say is. One of your eyebrows raise as you wait to see what he says, and what looks like great reluctance from him, he finally confesses his woes.

“There’s a big tournament coming up in a month and if I wanna play, I need to get my chem grade up.”

You stare at him for a few seconds. That’s it? Why would this concern you? Feeling a little nice, you don’t voice out your thoughts and instead ask, “so what does that have to do with me? You can just find another tutor.”

He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, now intrigued on what he could possibly say.

“You’re the only person who actually makes chemistry make sense so if I want a chance to pass this class,” he looks up and your breath hitches when you look into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes are, or how fucking long his eyelashes are. Shaking those thoughts away, you notice what looks like hope in his eyes, and you realize he really thinks you’ll help him. “I need your help.”

You blink, trying to weigh your options. While you still hold a grudge against him for the first tutoring session, this tournament’s important to him. The two of you are seniors, and depending on his plans for after graduation, this may be the last time he gets to play the sport. Then of course, you can’t stop thinking about what your brother said the other day, and unfortunately for you, you trust your brother’s judgment. And if Seungcheol’s ineligible to play, you really don’t want that to affect your brother’s team. He’s grown to love the sport in the weeks he’s played and you really don’t want him to lose his growing passion.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall. “Fine, I won’t talk to her.” He smiles and before he could thank you, you cut him off. “But just know I’m doing this for my brother, he really seems to like you and I don’t want you failing to affect your coaching.”

“I’ll take it as long as you’re agreeing to keep tutoring me,” he smiles and you’re stunned into silence for a few seconds when you see dimples dot his cheeks. You shake out of it and wiggle out of his grasp. “Yeah, just make sure you’re not late without a heads up, Choi.”

The next few weeks are filled with Choi Seungcheol, and you’re not sure how you feel about that statement just yet. In the beginning, you were still a bit reluctant, still fearing he’d be late with no excuse, but at your first tutoring session, he had arrived at the library before you. You were walking to some of the tables at the back of the library when you heard someone call your name, only to see it was Seungcheol, who had reserved a study room for the two of you and already had all of his notes out.

You felt a little bad even though you arrived on time. You had to drop your brother at home so you couldn’t meet right after school, but you did your best to get there as soon as possible.

He was very attentive while you explained everything to him and you wondered how he was failing chemistry in the first place when it seemed like he knew all the topics. It was when the two of you got to the practice problems did you see where the problems were coming from.

Your teacher, Ms. Park, has the tendency to make half of your homework situational problems, where you had to apply the basic knowledge that, on its own, was quite simple, but once put in a non-laboratory setting became a lot more difficult if one didn’t have a complete grasp on the concept. And that’s what you suspect is happening to Seungcheol, and the reason he was failing the class. Good thing you caught on in the beginning of these sessions and you could plan accordingly.

It was another tutoring session when your phone started ringing, you grabbed your phone, confused on who was calling you when you excused yourself, leaving him to work on a problem on his own while you stepped out into the study room next door to take the call.

Your eyes widen when you hear your little brother’s quiet voice on the other end, hoarse as he asks if you could come back home. You tell him you’re on your way before hanging up the call, and rushing into the study room you were just in.

Seungcheol jumped at your sudden intrusion, but before he could complain about you scaring him, you started to throw your things into your bag, grabbing your keys. “I’m sorry but my little brother’s sick so I gotta go take care of him.”

You were halfway through the door when you turned to look at him, “I’ll make it up to when he’s all better!” And just like that, you were out the door, apologizing to the little kid you almost bulldozed down in your rush to your car.

You make it back home in a new record, most definitely going past the speed limits as you skid into the parking spot in the parking garage, haphazardly raising your hand with your keys in hand in the air as you run towards the elevator, not double checking to see if you actually locked your car. If you didn’t live on the fifth floor, you’d actually consider taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, but alas, not even the haze of trying to get to your little brother was enough for you to suddenly have an increase in stamina.

Thankfully the elevator didn’t take long and you were able to make it to your apartment, throwing open the door as you tossed your backpack down the hallway. You rush into the living room to see your little brother laying across the couch, buried under a pile of blankets. He’s really out of it if he didn’t even bother to look up at all the noise you made trying to get in. You sigh before heading to the bathroom, looking for a thermometer and to check if there was anything you could give him over the counter.

Tsking at the 100.4° on the small screen, you wiped a damp towel over his forehead, wondering how he got this bad in the span of the 45 minutes that you were gone. He didn’t look too bad when you had picked him up from school, tired sure, but not knocking on death’s door like he is now. You were about to give him the medicine you found when there was a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be, you quickly gave your brother the medicine and headed to the door.

You check through the peephole and take a step back, your jaw slacking as you realize who’s on the other side of your door.

Choi Seungcheol.

How the fuck did he figure out where you live? You don’t remember telling him and last time you checked, your address wasn’t public knowledge. Shaking off the initial shock, you open the door, now curious as to why he’s here. Before he could explain his sudden visit, you beat him to the punch. “How the hell do you know where I live?”

He pointed to the floor above you. “Jeonghan told me, plus it was listed on the emergency contacts your brother filled out.” You blinked at him, wondering why your upstairs neighbor would rat you out like that, or how he knew your exact unit number. Whatever, what’s done is done. You point at the convenience store bag in his hand, asking about what he has.

He brings his free hand to scratch the back on his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I- uh got kinda worried and wanted to check up on you guys.” He brings the bag up, “I don’t know what he’s sick with so I just got the generic stuff and I brought snacks.”

You stare at him for a few moments before chuckling, thanking him as you take the bag from him and gesture for him to follow you into the apartment. He hesitates for a second before you nod at him, assuring him that it’s okay. He slips his shoes off and sets them down next to yours, following you into the apartment.

Your little brother looks a little better, actually looking up when the two of you walk into the living room (it’s only a few steps past the little entryway). He looks at the two of you for a second before laying back down. He shoots back up, as if wondering if Seungcheol is actually in your guys’ apartment.

“Real or am I hallucinating?”

You laugh as you adjust the towel over his forehead, “as crazy as it looks, he’s real. Now you should lie back down while I make you a porridge to eat.” He nods his head, laying back down as he adjusts the towel to sit over his eyes. You expected Seungcheol to stay in the living room with your brother, you didn’t expect him to follow you into the kitchen, asking if he could help you. Getting over the initial shock, something that keeps happening whenever you’re around him apparently, and start telling him to grab everything that you need.

It was funny to see him panic everytime you left him on his own to check on your brother, his eyes wide as his head kept snapping from the stove to you. Who knew the tough hockey captain could get so nervous by being left alone in the kitchen?

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the porridge to be made, and once you confirmed that your brother was able to keep his food down, you went back into the kitchen. “How do you like your ramen Choi?”

You turn to see him pouting and for some reason you feel the urge to poke his cheeks. Weird.

“Why do you keep calling me Choi?” He complains, leaning against the counter as he watches you take out another pot and two packages of your favorite ramen brand. You look over your shoulder, closing the cabinet before standing back up. “Would you prefer me calling you by your full name?” You tease, smiling as you see his cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. He stumbles over his words before you hear him mutter a quiet no, and you just laugh.

“I just don’t get why you call me by my last name instead of what everyone else calls me,” he says, handing you an egg when you ask for one. You shrug, “it started when you blew me off the first tutoring session and it kinda stuck.”

“What do I have to do for you to call me something other than my last name,” he begs, and you laugh at how serious this is for him. You didn’t think his name would be this sore spot for him, but it is amusing to see him so stressed over something so small. You look over at him while the water’s boiling, biting your lip as you pretend to think it over. “Get over a 90 on our next chem test and I might consider it.”

His jaw drops as he stands there frozen for a few seconds before groaning. “A 90? Listen, you're a great tutor but our next test is in literally three days and the best I’m getting is probably a mid 70.”

“Then Choi it is,” you reply, grabbing two bowls. At least he believes he can pass this next test, that’s some progress. Before he can start complaining, you both freeze when you hear your little brother yell out, “can you two stop flirting and get me another bowl of porridge,” and before you can yell at him for even saying that he throws in a little “please” at the end. Wow, how polite of him.

“We’re not flirting!” You say, walking into the living room to take his bowl, and as much as you want to tackle him to the ground for even suggesting you’re flirting with the hockey player, you decide to take pity on him, this time. He’s lucky his body failed him today.

Once your sickly brother is content with his second bowl of porridge, you take your and Seuncheol’s bowls to your small dining table. He follows and you go back for utensils, asking what he’d like to drink. Once everything is set on the table, the two of you start eating in a comfortable silence, the show your brother was watching filling the otherwise silent apartment. Your eyes fall to his backpack that was by the door and you swallow what’s in your mouth before motioning to his bag.

“Wanna continue with where we left off? I really think if we can get past this topic you can definitely score somewhere in the 80s.” His eyes follow at what you’re pointing at, and he nods, finishing his bowl before getting up to grab his backpack, and even getting your backpack that you had thrown earlier.

The two of you pick up where you left off, occasionally taking breaks when your little brother claims he needs your assistance with what he calls “surviving” when in all actuality it was just him wanting another refill of his water.

It was nearing 8 o’clock when the two of you were done for the day. As he was gathering his things, your brother got enough strength to get off the couch, heading to his room before waving bye to Seungcheol, telling him he’d definitely be good to go to practice on Saturday. The hockey player laughs as he leans over the table to fist bump him, telling him he better keep his word. You smile at the exchange, happy to see your brother doing better.

“Come on, I’ll see you down,” you say when he’s gotten all his things. Before he can argue with you about it being unnecessary, you wave him off, saying how it’s the least you could do after he came all the way over to check up on the two of you.

The two of you are in the elevator when he finally speaks again.

“Is it usually the two of you this late into the evening?” He asks, his eyes hesitantly flitting from your face to the wall next to your head. You hum, leaning against the railing with your eyes closed, “our mom works late at the hospital and…” You trail off, opening your eyes to see Seungcheol watching you, something in his eyes that makes you look away, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting to look at. Why does he look at you with so much care?

“Our dad left when my brother was a couple of months old so it's just been us three,” you say, not quite believing you're actually telling him this about yourself. Hell, you don’t even know if he has siblings and yet you’re out here telling him your family life. Crazy what some dimples and pretty brown eyes can do to a girl.

“Oh.”

Ah, probably should’ve lied about your absent father. Something about him working late should’ve been excuse enough. Well, too late for that you internally groan at. Before you can apologize for making things awkward, he interrupts you.

“Can we move our tutoring sessions to your place?”

Your jaw drops for a few seconds before you snap out of it, blinking to try to get your brain caught up to speed. “Why?”

He sighs, turning away to face the elevator doors and you’ve never been more thankful for someone to stop looking at you. “I kinda hate the idea of your little brother waiting at home by himself while you’re tutoring me.”

“He’s twelve, but as long as you don’t mind coming over here,” you say, glancing over at him, “then okay, we can move to our apartment.” He smiles and you feel this weird pang in your chest. The last time you felt this excited over a person was when you were getting ready for your date with Changkyun the other day. Does that mean you’re starting to actually enjoy Seungcheol’s company?

Bound to happen considering you spend your Monday and Wednesday afternoons with the guy. It’s just, it feels different than what you felt with Changkyun and part of you just wants to bury that thought away and focus on anything else. Thankfully the elevator ride didn’t last too long and you walked Seungcheol to his car, your chest feeling a little bit tighter as you watched him drive away.

It’s Saturday and you’re back at the rink to pick up your brother from practice. He’d gotten better and while you were hesitant to drop him off at practice, he insisted that he was all good to practice. You let him go, but not without texting Seungcheol before heading over to practice, asking him to keep an eye on your brother. This was the first time you texted him about something other than about your tutoring sessions and while your hands were shaking just thinking about talking to him about something other than chemistry, thankfully he agreed to keep an eye on your brother.

You grab a jacket from the backseat, not wanting to freeze while you wait for your brother. He always manages to be the last one out of the rink, always talking to Seungcheol while everyone else skates towards the door to change out of their skates and into their shoes.

And just like the past couple of weeks, your brother was still out on the ice, except instead of the two standing to the side talking about their practice, the two were skating over across the ice, the small black puck gliding between the two of them as they pass the puck amongst themselves. If you squint, you can see what you assumed is Seungcheol giving your brother tips because soon he nods and adjusts his hold on his stick.

Then, catching the two of you off guard, he steals the puck from the hockey player, successfully scoring a goal on the unguarded net. Your mouth falls open before cheering for your brother. Sure it wasn't a game changing play, but you were still proud of him. Upon hearing your cheering, your brother skates to the wall where you’re standing, the short wall and the plexiglass the only thing separating the two of you.

“Did you see that! I totally got him good!” He excitedly told you and you smiled. “Sure did dude, next time I think you should go for his knees, then you’d have no one stopping you,” you joke, smiling as your little brother laughs, complaining how that’s “not very good sportsmanship” but winks at you when Seungcheol skates over to the two of you, wiping off some of the ice shavings off his pants.

“I can’t believe you’re telling your brother to kill me, princess,” he pouts and you roll your eyes, glad it’s so cold in the rink you can’t tell if your face is burning from the petname or from the freezing temperatures. You roll your eyes, pulling the collar of your jacket higher in an effort to cover your face. “Isn’t that part of the sport Choi, pushing and shoving each other?”

He shrugs, a smile on his face. “Glad to see you know something about the sport, I see Frosty over has been teaching you.” Your brother groans when he hears his coach use the nickname you gave him once he started hockey. It started off as a small joke that somehow morphed to having the whole team only ever calling him Frosty. Hey, at least he’s already got a marketable name, you told him one day when you were driving back home after practice a few weeks ago.

You shrug, tugging your jacket tighter. In all actuality your brother hadn’t explained the sport all that much besides the occasional “you don’t do that” or “that’s a good thing” or other vague explanations when you ask him questions. Instead, after a tutoring session with Seungcheol, and as a way to procrastinate an essay you had to work on, you decided to look into the sport. It wasn’t much, just a quick google search about the rules that had you clicking off the site after a few paragraphs and instead watching a couple of matches on youtube. You had half the mind to ask Seungcheol but decided against it. You were just supposed to be tutoring him in chemistry and you thought learning more about the sport he put years in was a little much for you. (And the thought of him in his full uniform was starting to make your heart ache just a little much.)

“Might as well since I come here once a week,” you say, and Seungcheol smiles, and you wish he didn’t have such a cute smile. His gummy smile is going to be the death of you, you think as you look over to see if your brother’s got his shoes on.

You don’t know when you started to see Seungcheol in a different light. Probably around the time your brother got sick since that was the first time you got to see him not in a school setting. Or to be more exact, the moment he asked if your tutoring sessions could be moved to your apartment so you could watch over your brother. Whenever it was, you wished it didn’t happen.

After the results of the chemistry test the two of you have a week, your tutoring sessions would be over since by then you’d know whether or not he’d be good to compete in the tournament. While a part of you was sad to think about not being with him every Monday and Wednesday with him, you’re at least happy about the fact his grade’s would be doing better. And sure, at first you were helping him out reluctantly, but after spending so much time with him, you realized he was nothing like you originally thought he was like.

Your first meeting really was just a fluke, and he was just a nice guy. You actually had asked him after a few sessions why he was so late to the first tutoring session and you can remember the cute blush that grew on his face as he explained how he was planning the youth hockey team’s practice and lost track of the time. He looked so cute, his cheeks a rosy pink and a small pout on his lips, and that’s when you thought, yeah, he’s not that bad of a guy.

“Okay, I’m good to go,” your brother says, and you blink, snapping out of your thoughts. You nod, extending your hand to help him carry some of his gear. Noticing your empty motions, Seungcheol takes a step towards you but you shake your head. “I’ll see you on Monday Choi.”

“Yeah… see you later, princess.”

You’re really, truly fucked, you come to realize as you stare at your phone. Why, just why did you have to send that text?

Your friend, who was under the impression you still hated Seungcheol for blowing you off the first tutoring session, asked if there was a way you could set her up with him for a date. And you, still not wanting to admit the fact that you’ve definitely started catching feelings for the captain, agreed to set the two up. And trying to convince yourself that the warm feeling you get in your chest from just seeing him smile meant nothing, you sent a text wondering if he was down to meet with your friend over the weekend.

And now you’re waiting for a response, hoping that he won’t agree to the date. Hell, you’re on your knees hoping that even if he does say yes, that it goes horrible so they don’t keep meeting. Terrible, yes, but your heart can’t handle the idea of someone who isn’t you by his side. And yet you still won’t admit that you have a crush on him. (Denial is one hell of a drug.)

When you hear your phone go off from a notification, you push yourself off the floor, where you’ve made home the past couple of minutes. With a shaky hand, you flip your phone over, clicking on the notification.

Choi 🏒: tell her sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now 🫤

Oh.

He’s not interested in dating right now? For some reason that hurts more than if he said he is interested in the date. With a shaky inhale you text him back, letting him know you’ll let her know and you toss your phone away, burying your face against your knees.

Okay so maybe you do have a crush on Seungcheol, big fucking hurray.

You’re walking back to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You recognize the voice and freeze, wondering what Seungcheol wants with you and wishing he’d just leave you alone. Despite him doing nothing wrong, you really don’t want to see him right now, especially since you were going to use the drive back home to prepare yourself for your tutoring session with him.

He runs up to you, a smile on his face as he blocks you from opening the driver’s side. You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “What’s up Choi?”

“I came by to tell you that I can’t make it to today’s session.” He explains and you notice how his cheeks are tinted pink. Just how far was he running from? You give him a look as you lean against your car. “So why didn’t you just text me then?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Your eyes widen as you turn to face him fully. You feel your face burn as you try unsuccessfully to say something in return. He smiles and you want nothing more than to wipe his adorable smile off his face. The fact he doesn’t even know the emotional turmoil he’s putting you through is insane and you wish he didn’t have this much power over you. You try coughing, covering your face as you look away from him. “Yeah, whatever, is that all you have to say?”

He nods and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats and still with that frustratingly cute smile, his stupid dimples on full display, “I’m still good for Wednesday though, I want to celebrate our last session before the test Friday.” You nod, a tight lipped smile on display as you wave him goodbye.

Once in the comfort of your car, you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel, wishing you weren’t so crushed over this. Things come up all the time, it’s not a big deal he can’t make it today. If anything you can just use this time to get your homework done for the week so you don’t have to worry about it later. Maybe instead of groveling over a guy you could actually be productive for once.

Wednesday rolls around and you don’t think you’ve given yourself a chance to think about Seungcheol. How could you when you’ve been busy doing your homework, planning what you’d cover in today’s session, helping your brother with his homework, doing all the chores around the apartment, and if you weren’t busy with all that you had your headphones on, not even giving yourself the chance to think. Who needs to think when you’ve been so busy?

You pull out of the parking lot of the middle school, your little brother grabbing your phone to change the song that was playing. Sticking to a song that you hoped wouldn’t show up on your spotify wrapped, you keep driving, your thoughts starting to drift off to Seungcheol. Catching yourself, you will yourself to listen to the song your brother chose, and you wonder which was worse for your mental health.

Once in the comfort of your apartment, your little brother heads off to his room claiming how he doesn’t want to watch his older sister flirt with his hockey coach while he does his homework. At first you’d argue that you weren’t but as of late you knew there was no saving yourself and didn’t even try to fight back anymore, only groaning as you started to set the table.

A few minutes later you hear someone at the door and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself to get through your last session and as a way to prepare your heart for the inevitable. Seungcheol smiles as he steps inside, slipping off his shoes as he places them next to yours. You turn around and your eyes widen as your face heats up as you take in his appearance. He was just wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt and yet you could feel your heartbeat race at the sight. You quickly turn around, pretending to adjust your notebook as you try to calm your beating heart. He’s worn that outfit combo tons of times and yet now your heart decides to give you trouble.

If he notices your internal struggle, he doesn’t say anything. He takes his seat at the table, taking out his things as you finally look at him to start. Hopefully your heart can take the next few hours, if not, thankfully your mom’s a registered nurse.

“Hey princess,” he starts and you, against your better judgment, smile at the petname, “can I ask you something.” You put your pencil down, turning to face him as he put his pencil down, the problem you had given him to work on an afterthought. “Sure, go ahead.”

“If I ace this test will you come watch me play in my tournament?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with hope and you find yourself leaning against your hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face. “When you say ace, how high of a score are we talking here,” you tease. You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but if it helps you from burning away in your seat, you’ll take it.

He smirks, leaning close to you and your breath hitches, freezing in your seat. “I say at least a mid 90.” You chuckle, leaning in close as you internally scream at yourself to back the fuck away from him. “Sure, you got yourself a deal, but I’m expecting the best from you Choi.” You say, beginning to turn away so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face.

“Of course, can't disappoint my princess, can I?” His pointer finger and thumb gently hold your chin, making you look at him and his stupid smug face that you so desperately want to kiss.

Oh yeah, your heart’s definitely going to explode.

You think you mutter something along the lines of “in your dreams Choi” but at this point you’re not even sure you can still rangle up enough brain cells to formulate a coherent thought. Heat floods your cheeks as he still holds your face and you swear you see his eyes fall to your lips, or at least you think they do. You’re too busy staring at his lips to really be too sure.

Somehow your one brain cell manages to scramble enough thoughts to control your body, except it makes you lean in closer to him, close enough you can feel his breath hover over your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and just when you think everything is going great you hear your little brother yell your name from his room and that’s enough to snap the two of you out of the daze you’re in. You clear your throat, excusing yourself as you push out your chair and head to your brother’s room, wondering what the hell he needs that he just needs you right now.

“What do you want?” You hiss out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He looks up from his desk, papers scattered across the wooden surface as he turns his swivel chair to face you. He shrugs, “I felt this weird disturbance in the force and called you over here.”

It takes everything in you to not throw him across his room. You sigh, “yeah that disturbance was born twelve years ago.”

“Hey!” He throws a pokemon plushie, piplup if you remember correctly, at you. You duck and the plushie hits your bedroom door behind you. You turn around to pick it up, only to immediately throw it back at him, and successfully manage to hit him in the head with it. He stumbles back in his chair and you laugh at him. He glares at you for a moment before breaking out into laughter as well. “Okay fine good aim, I’ll give it to you,” he acknowledges with a surrender of his hands, the plushie back on his shelves, joining the rest of his collection. “Now go back to tutoring Scoups hyung so you can make dinner.”

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You can always make dinner, you should probably start now since I’ll be going off to coll-”

“Don’t say the c word!” He interrupts, a new pokemon plushie in hand. His eyes are wide and your smile softens before it’s turning into a small pout. The past year you’ve been trying to teach your brother how to take care of things around the apartment since soon it’ll just be him waiting for your mom to come home, but each time he always changes the subject, or even resorting to throwing his plushies to stop the conversation. In that moment you don’t see your twelve year old brother who loves to get on your nerves, instead you see your baby brother who never left your side for anything. Your other half despite the six year difference between the two of you.

Before you know it, your throat tightens up as you watch him lower the plushie, turned away so he’s not looking at you. “Um… you should probably go back to Scoups hyung.” His voice is small, like if speaks any louder and he might start crying.

You nod, slowly backing out of his room, “yeah, just let me know if you need anything.” You turn to walk out when you turn back to face him, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight.” His head perks up and you smile at him, to which he returns.

You make it back to the living room to see Seungcheol working on the problems you had left him. You let out a small chuckle, and he looks up, smiling when he notices your back. “Everything okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine, he was just a little bored.” He smiles and the two of you get back to your homework. Soon enough, the two of you finish, even with the practice you gave him to really prepare him for your upcoming test, and you relax in your seat, a smile on your face. Seungcheol faces you, his smile growing as he looks from his papers to you. “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.”

You wave his compliment off, your smile perpetually stuck on your face when you're around him. “Nope, it’s all you Choi, I’m simply here to help you. Now you’ve gotta ace this test so I can go watch you win this tournament.” He smiles and you don’t think you’d ever find dimples this cute on another person in your life.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You’re walking out of your last period class when you hear Seungcheol call your name out. You turn around, already smiling since you know what this is going to be about, and judging by his voice, it’s going to be good news.

He runs up to you, stapled papers in hand and you just know it’s his chemistry test. He makes it infront of you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders in an effort to stabilize himself, his test pressing against your shoulder. “I got my results back!”

You laugh, your hands coming up to rest over his, smiling and feeling heat begin to creep up your face at the close proximity. “I can tell, but come on I’m dying to know what you got Choi.” A light blush grows on his face as his smile grows, his hands moving away from your shoulders as he straightens up his test since it had gotten crumpled during everything.

Once it was straightened out, he flipped it over, handing the test to you. You take the test and your eyes widen when you see the large 100 written next to his name. You look up to see him smiling and in your excitement, you pull him into a hug. “Oh my god! I knew you could do it, this is amazing!” He tightens his hold on you, picking you off the ground to spin you in a hug. You’re laughing as he gently sets you down, you’re smiling so much your cheeks are starting to hurt but you don’t even care right now. You’re just so happy for Seungcheol, happy that this means he gets to play in his tournament.

He pulls you into another hug, muttering into your hair, “thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You pull him closer, “of course Cheol.”

The day of the tournament arrived and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. Seungcheol and the team have been doing great all day, moving farther and farther up the rackets, and yet you’re still nervous. It probably has to deal with the fact neither of you really discussed what happened last week, the whole really intimate hug in the middle of the hallway and all that. You two actually were texting back and forth the past week, and yet neither of you dared to talk about the hallway incident.

Just like how neither one of you spoke about the almost kiss back in your apartment.

So your nerves are most definitely tied to whatever you got going on with the captain of the hockey, the very same captain who’s leading his team to victory. This is the first time you’re seeing Seungcheol in his full uniform and damn, he looks good in his uniform. Something about how it makes him look larger just makes your heart beat faster every time he skates by where you’re sitting.

The first time he skated by, you watched as he did a double-take before smiling his gummy smile, dimples on full display and waving at you and your brother, who insisted on coming along. (You weren’t going to tell him no, of course you’re going to bring him along.) Occasionally, he’d shoot you a look, smiling at you and you’d wave at him, feeling your face burn up every time.

It’s the final match of the day, and you don’t think you’ve screamed this much in your life. You always make sure to cheer for Seungcheol every time he makes a goal, and halfway through the day, it turns into a competition between you and your brother on who could cheer the loudest for him. And you’re not about to lose against your brother.

Somehow the match had gone into overtime due to the teams being tied and you’re at the edge of your seat, your little brother in the same position. At some point he grabbed your gloved hand, squeezing tight as they entered the sudden death overtime. (Why the hell is it called that?) You squeeze his hand as you watch Seungcheol go head to head against someone on the other team and you hold your breath watching as the two try to steal the puck from the other.

Just when it looks like the other guy’s about to steal the puck, Seungcheol finds an opening, sending the puck into the unguarded goal, making the winning shot.

You and your brother shoot up in your seats, and you pull him into a hug as you both jump in excitement and happiness. Seungcheol gets affectionately tackled by his teammates as they swarm him, and you can hear them chanting their captain’s name as the announcer relays the winning team. You look over once you’ve calmed down a bit and somehow manage to make eye contact with him. You smile and you mouth “I’m so proud of you," hoping he’d be able to understand you.

It seems like he does because soon enough it looks like he mouths something along the lines of, “all for you, princess.”

The tournament’s over now and you’re waiting for your little brother to finish in the restroom before you two head back home. A part of you wishes you’d get to see Seungcheol before leaving but he’s probably busy with after game things and celebrating that you’ll just settle with talking to him some other time.

You’re about to text your brother to ask him where he’s at when you feel someone come up from behind you, spinning you around. You shriek, holding your phone close to your chest, about to curse out whoever it was when you hear the person laughing and you immediately soften, knowing exactly who it is.

He sets you back down, turning you to face him. You smile and before you can even open your mouth to congratulate him on winning his senior tournament, he cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen at the contact before they flutter shut, your own hands coming up to rest over his. His hands are freezing but you don’t mind, not when your face is burning up enough you’re sure you could warm up his hands in minutes. Your hands drift from his to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you lean slightly back, with him following. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, causing you to chase after his lips, already missing the pillowy feeling of them on your own. He chuckles before dipping down to kiss you again when someone clears their throat.

You groan, already knowing who it is, dreading whatever comment he has to say. You look over your shoulder, only to see your little brother smiling. You definitely expected him to be pulling some disgusted face to make fun of you. Instead he was smiling, smiling so big you would think he just won a year’s supply of his favorite food.

“If you’re done making out with your boyfriend, do you wanna ask him if he wants to join us for dinner?”

Seungcheol's hand slips into your own, squeezing your gloved hand as you look up at him. His smile is so big and his cheeks are a pretty pink blush. “I really like the sound of that, what do you think princess?”

You like that a lot, you think, squeezing his hand as you drag him to follow you and your brother, laughing when you hear his teammates cheering for their captain, for finally getting his girl.

Maybe tutoring the captain wasn’t so bad after all.

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rainswriting-blog · 29 days ago

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Pickles and Pregnancy

Summary: you were craving pickles and could open the jar your husband came to the rescue.

Warning(s): pregnant reader, a bruise ego lol

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You’re standing in the kitchen, glaring at the stubborn jar of pickles in your hand. You’ve tried every trick—banging the lid, using a dish towel—but it won’t budge. Frustrated, you mutter under your breath and raise the jar as if to throw it on the ground.

Just as you’re about to let go, a gloved hand catches your wrist.

“Easy there, love,” Ghost’s voice rumbles softly behind you. He takes the jar from your hand effortlessly. “You’re going to scare the baby with that temper.”

He pops the lid open with a quiet grunt and hands it back to you, his skull mask tilted slightly as if he’s amused.

“Next time, just call me. No need to go full demolition squad,” he teases.

You huff, biting into the pickle almost immediately. “I did call you. You didn’t hear me because you were too busy cleaning your guns.”

His eyes soften, and he sets the jar down before placing his large hand over your belly. The contrast of his rough glove against your soft skin is stark, but his touch is gentle.

“Alright, fair enough,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a soothing tone. “How’s the little one doing? Driving you mad with cravings already?”

You lean into his touch, your frustration melting a little. “Yes. And apparently, I’m going to fight every jar in the kitchen before this is over.”

He chuckles, rubbing small circles over your belly. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle all the jars. You just take care of our little troublemaker in there.”

John Price

You stare at the jar of pickles, practically vibrating with frustration. The cravings are too strong to ignore, and you’ve had enough. Raising the jar above your head, you prepare to smash it on the kitchen floor.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing?” Price’s familiar voice stops you mid-swing.

You whirl around to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. Without waiting for an answer, he strides over, takes the jar from your hands, and examines it.

“Pickles, huh?” he says, chuckling under his breath. “Alright, let me help.”

He pulls out a bottle opener from his pocket, using it to break the seal on the jar. The lid pops off with ease, and he hands it back to you with a smirk.

“There you go. No need to destroy the house over it,” he says, ruffling your hair affectionately.

You take a pickle, glaring at him through your first bite. “I wouldn’t have to destroy the house if you didn’t leave me alone to fend for myself.”

He raises a hand in mock surrender, his expression softening. “You’re right, love. My bad. I’ll stick closer from now on. Though I’ll admit, watching you wrestle a jar of pickles was quite entertaining.”

Before you can retort, his hand finds its way to your belly, resting gently over the curve. “And how’s my little troublemaker? Giving you a hard time already?”

You glance down at his hand, your irritation softening. “Your little troublemaker is the reason I was about to smash that jar. Pickles aren’t just a craving—they’re a need right now.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Well, you’ve got me now, love. Pickles, chocolate, whatever you need. I’ll keep you and the little one happy.”

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

The jar of pickles refuses to open, and you’ve had enough. You stomp your foot, raise the jar above your head, and—

“Whoa! Lass, what are you doing?” Soap’s unmistakable Scottish accent rings out as he rushes into the kitchen.

You freeze, jar in hand, and give him a look of pure exasperation. “I can’t open it! I need these pickles, Johnny!”

He bites back a laugh, stepping closer and gently taking the jar from you. “Alright, alright, no need to go smashing things. Let the professional handle it.”

He grips the jar dramatically, flexing his biceps as if the task is monumental. “Prepare to witness a MacTavish miracle!” he declares, twisting the lid.

The jar opens with a loud pop, and he grins triumphantly. “There! Crisis averted!”

You grab a pickle, grumbling, “Show-off.”

He laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Admit it—you’d be lost without me.”

You glare at him but can’t hold it for long. “Lost? No. Hungry, maybe. But if you don’t keep this up, I will learn to open these jars myself, and then what would you do?”

His grin widens as he wraps an arm around your waist, his hand settling over your belly. “Guess I’d have to find another way to prove I’m worth keeping around. How’s the wee one, anyway? Demanding more pickles tonight?”

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. “Yes, and apparently, you’re the only one who can keep up with these demands.”

He smirks, gently rubbing your belly. “That’s because I’m a man of many talents, love. You and this little one are in good hands.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

The jar sits stubbornly on the counter, mocking your efforts. You grip it tightly, ready to hurl it at the ground when a hand stops you.

“Whoa there, love. What’s going on?” Gaz asks, stepping in and gently prying the jar from your hands.

“These stupid pickles! I just want one, and it won’t open!” you practically wail.

He chuckles, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Alright, let me have a go.”

Gaz tries twisting the lid, grunting slightly. When it doesn’t budge, he narrows his eyes. “Alright, now it’s personal.”

He grabs a spoon, tapping the edge of the lid a few times before trying again. With a satisfying pop, the jar opens, and he hands it back to you with a grin.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” he quips, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

You take a pickle and glare at him as you chew. “Teamwork? You weren’t even here five minutes ago when I was fighting for my life.”

He grins sheepishly, stepping closer and placing a hand over your belly. His fingers are warm and reassuring as he rubs gently. “Alright, I’ll give you that one. Next time, I’ll be here faster. How’s my little pickle monster doing in there?”

You glance at his hand, smiling despite yourself. “Your pickle monster is why I almost destroyed the kitchen tonight.”

He laughs softly, pressing a light kiss to your belly. “Well, I’ll make sure the kitchen survives next time. You and this little one are priority number one.”

Taglist

@edgarapoecolouredglasses @aasouthteranoswife @coqwuette

#modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #john price #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare ii #captain john price #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick #modern warfare 3

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pepprs · 2 years ago

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mutuals i got myself into a situation so sticky i don’t even know how to describe it (edit: *describes it* lol). please send thoughts of successful escape my way lol

#purrs #delete later #i SONT understand anything about retirement or insurance whatever and basically imightve signed a contract for smth i didn’t understand #fully and im so scared lol. and i feel so bad bc im stupid and i don’t understand anything and no matter how much peopel #xolain it to me i don’t understand it. i feel like a stupid silly naive little girl rn LOLLLLL i feel so sick #it’s probably fine and not that bad and i didn’t do the wrong step but im freaking out. not just bc of the money situation but also bc they #have to do a. medical exam on me to see how much i would have to pay or whatever 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃 wtf #im making it sound like a big bad scary freak thing isigned up for when really it’s not i don’t thin&. it’s just dividend lige insirance but #i don’t understand what any of it means and apparently other stuff is better. idk anything about retirement i only got into this stupid #situation because i had a mandatory retirement selection for work and ididnt understand anything so i scheduled a meeting with a retirement #counselor person to help me figure out which option would be the best for me and he was really nice and helped me a lot but then he started #saying he could help me w additional retirement stuff if i wanted to see what the options were and i was like sure and then he told me abt t #this thing and had me fill out / sign the application in that same meeting to ‘get the process started bc it takes. a long time’ even if i d #decided to pull out later it would be a good thing to get the ball rolling asap if i did end up wanting to do it. but i didn’t understand an #anythi ng and i went along with it anyway and now i might’ve fucked myself over so bad. except i probably didn’t but i feel so bad. bc he wa #was so nice and genuine but maybe he was just trying to sell me a product bc he gets a commission from the insurance company which i he told #me wheni asked him if im getting his help for free. i feel so stupid and guilty omg #and also i signed up for my first credit card but the interest rates are really high which i didn’t realize. and i can’t log into the bank a #account for some reason liek it says my acc doesn’t work. and hr fucked up my pay so i haven’t gotten a time sheet for like 2 pay periods an #and im getting retroactively paid in august but it’s just one more fucking thing and i haven’t gotten the chance to pick new benefits yet #and idk if i can / will bc of my stupid pay situation like i literaly don’t exist in the system rn apparently. i fucking hate all of this i #hate adulting i hate it i hate it i want to explode and hide forever and cry a lot. and my bank account isn’t even my own rn and i don’t und #understand anything about mony or insurance or benefits or credit cards or anything. im so overwhelmed FUCK

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minkdelovely · 9 months ago

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love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter nine

“i’d leave if you’d let me.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: descriptions of pain, alcohol consumption, more smut (cuz i couldn’t help myself apparently lol): dry humping; quickie; cream pie, undressing a bandage, bite wounds, the morning after talk, return of the chain…

word count: 3.9k

author’s note: y’all i really can’t believe it… the penultimate chapter is here 🥲 i really can’t express how much it means to have you join me on this little journey here. whether you’ve been reading from the beginning or just found it, i just want to convey my sincerest thanks 💖 no alastor pov this time (a first! i shocked even myself) but don’t fret — we will get a peek into his mind before this is all over. sorry if this one’s a little dialogue heavy but they had a lot to say 🙈✨ also please go listen to 1121 by halsey 🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You stirred, eyebrows furrowing as a sleepy whine rose in your throat; a pulsing ache effectively kicking you out of unconsciousness. There was movement next to you on the bed followed by the sound of a book closing and the clinking of glass, rounded out with the soothing melody of liquid pouring.

As your eyes finally cracked open, still blurry with sleep, you took a deep waking breath through your nose. Spending so much time here, you recognized Alastor’s room by scent alone. Something that didn’t fully resonate with you until another realization came to mind — the bed you were in right now was his. Tucked into the very sheets you so diligently made nice every morning.

“I was wondering when you’d be waking up… I have medicine for you.”

Alastor’s voice was mellow as his fingers swept the hair back from your face, and you blinked a few times to clear your vision. He was bending over you, backlit against the warm light coming from the lamp on the nightstand, looking disarming as ever in his pajamas. But the softly amused look on his face made you doubt that you were really awake.

Another unpleasant throb in your shoulder was a reminder that you most definitely were. Which also brought attention to the fact that you had been dressed as well. Underneath the clothing you took note of the confined, consoling feeling around your shoulder and chest, not dissimilar from a seatbelt. A bandage?

When had all this happened? And what time was it? Clearly late enough to constitute the need for lamplight…

You weren’t able to dwell on anything more before a sharp jolt of pain shot straight up your neck, causing you to wince with a hiss. Alastor tutted and nudged the glass at you with one hand and helped you sit up with the other. When you reached out you recognized the pattern on the sleeve adorning your arm, a lump forming in your throat. Alastor’s housecoat. Though you were just as quickly distracted from that fact when you realized what he had shoved in your hand.

“This is medicine?” you sulked, frowning over the glass of whiskey stinging your nostrils. “You don’t just have—”

“Don’t get me started on those wretched pills, if that’s what you’re referring you,” he scoffed, face pinched with offense. His voice softened a bit but was still assertive when he continued. “This is natural. It will help. Promise.”

You looked at him with a dubiousness that didn’t reach your eyes, slowly lifting the glass to your lips. He saw right through it of course, judging by the smoldering look of satisfaction he was giving you. There was another ache… this time not in your shoulder. You weren’t exactly thrilled with how easily you melted under his gaze. Not with all backtracking the two of you still had to do regarding the afternoon. Maybe it’s just a post-sex aftershock…

So you sipped the drink, actually appreciating the distracting burn in your throat that trickled into your chest. You didn’t even have to say it, glowering at him and his haughty I told you so smile over the glass as you finished it off. He took the empty glass from you, refilled it with double the amount, and handed it back.

“No more after this, right?” you said after downing more than half of it with a grimace. Whiskey was never a favorite of yours and the taste was starting to overpower the burn.

“Promise,” he goaded, face turned up with his familiar taunt.

Thankfully the blush on your face could be dismissed by the alcohol, but you weren’t able to stop the scoffing laugh that escaped you; covering your mouth with your free hand when you remembered yourself. God forbid he thought you were making fun of him — which you obviously weren’t — but it would be just your luck to spoil the mood. He surprised you, taking your hand from your mouth as he leaned in, a mischievous leer glimmering in his eyes.

“Goodness! You know, I was really beginning to think you didn’t know how to laugh,” he said, voice low, his hand coming up to rest under your chin. A mutual favorite place for him to touch. “Is this a new development, or have I always been so amusing?”

“Sometimes,” you answered mildly, grateful you managed to keep the tremble out of your voice but failed to maintain eye contact as your heart picked up. The way his thumb was lazily petting your jaw wasn’t helping. “I’m just normally better at holding back.”

Alastor’s face was in front of you now, noses almost touching as his eyes focused on you. He took the drink out of your hand and finished what was left before setting it down to resume his close proximity. “Hmm… I think that’s the habit of yours I dislike the most.”

The kiss that followed was esurient, his long fingers now splayed across the expanse of your neck to hold you in place as his tongue wasted no time finding comfort in your mouth. The whine you couldn’t hold back earned you a lusty hum in return, followed by a testing bite to your bottom lip as your fingers tangled in his hair. It was only too easy to slip back into this; openly moaning into him as he took you by the waist and easily maneuvered you to straddle his lap. His wicked mouth never leaving yours for a moment.

Time slipped away, its intangibility and irrelevance in the afterlife never more apparent as your mind and body honed in on the present. God, he was just so warm; the comfort it gave you was concerning, leaving you worried over how you would fare without it. It wasn’t the only thing you were troubled over — equally relishing the gift of every sound and touch he gave. His lithe, statuesque frame still providing so much security even while underneath you being the most generous of all.

“I think I like this too much,” you whispered against his lips, out of breath. Unsure if the confession was one of shame, regret, or pride.

“I know,” he murmured, giving your lips a final kiss before leaving a trail of them to your neck. Wantonly indulging himself there as if it could kiss back.

It was hard to discern the ambiguity you heard in his voice. Not quite pity, not quite indifference. And despite the fire that threatened to envelop you whole, the thought that crept up in the back of your mind was one you couldn’t ignore.

Was he regretting this already?

The thought was abruptly whisked away as Alastor’s hips rolled against you, the feeling of his arousal pulling a heady sigh from your chest. He let out a soft grunt in return, the sensation of his open mouth and hot breath against your skin making you feel faint. The graze of his teeth as his hands guided you to slowly grind on him made you cry out in earnest; a sound you repeated from his responding moan. You stayed this way for a while, rocking and moaning against each other as he covered the right side of your neck with more hickies and bites and kisses until the pressure building in your loins was too much to bear.

“Alastor, please,” you pleaded softly, your need hanging heavy in the air of the otherwise silent room.

He gasped into your skin and lifted you off him, reaching underneath the night coat to pull your underwear down, then doing the same with his own pants. Propped up against some pillows, he was at an angle somewhere between lying down and sitting up, and he brought his knees up behind you for support. You gasped as he ran his length against your slick arousal, walls already twitching just from the memory of how he had felt inside you earlier. The two of you shared a loud, wanton moan of relief as you took him to the hilt, panting as you both adjusted.

Definitely like this too much…

Exhilarated by the very real aspect of not lasting long, you reflexively clenched around him; drawing a hiss from between his teeth that in turn left his mouth hanging open in such a salacious way you couldn’t stop yourself from whining his name.

“Hahhh…! A warning next time, sweetheart,” he gasped, his hands on your waist tightening with a pleasantly firm grip.

Perhaps as retribution, the sharp thrust he gave you made you scream from pleasure and shock. Afterward, he set a deep and steady pace, the angle quickly proving to be a new favorite with the way your clit rubbed against him; his swollen head mercilessly stimulating your spongy core as he bounced you on and off his cock. The slapping of your skin meeting between your combined gasps of rapture only fueling your lust.

“Hmmnnn Alastor…!” you mewled, feeling a wave of your arousal coat him as you cried out. Barely able to keep your eyes open from the way your eyebrows were drawn together. “Alastor!”

“Haahh, fuck — Ahhh…!” he moaned, throwing his head back as he began bucking into you in earnest. Your hands gripping his shoulders to try and keep steady as you eagerly accepted his new rhythm.

The tightness in your belly made itself known then with a scorching ache. Coiling tighter and tighter as you took in his licentious expression and heaving chest until you couldn’t take it anymore. Too intoxicated by the erotic scene and feeling of him to hold on.

“Alastor — mmm! You’re gonna — hahh — gonna make me cum,” you practically sobbed, unable to stop the words as a blush burned your cheeks.

He let out a loud, drawn out grunt as his head shot up, eyes looking straight into yours; his florid face, clenched teeth, and intense crimson gaze the last thing you saw before your vision went white. Unabashedly moaning as your orgasm crashed through you with an exquisite relief you didn’t know was possible. Alastor cursed as you spasmed and tightened around him, his fingers punishing on your waist as he quickly followed suit and came inside you; that hot, familiar feeling of his release nearly making you climax again as the two of you sloppily rocked against each other until the high was finally sated.

You collapsed against his chest, his rapid heartbeat a lovely companion to the sounds of you both trying to catch your breath. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he pulled out, the emptiness that followed causing you to whimper which he responded to with a tired, satisfied chuckle that rumbled in your ears. The warmth you felt in your chest from the sound provided both comfort and alarm as an accompanying question bloomed in your mind.

How will we ever go back to normal…?

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

When you awoke again you were in your own bed, noticeably alone. The morning light piercing your curtains bright enough to indicate that you might be pushing early afternoon. You stretched and rolled onto your back, taking in the sight of your shredded canopy. So that had been the sound you heard…

After lying there for a few minutes, you groaned as you forced yourself out of bed, driven mostly by your need to take a shower. Something that presented somewhat of a problem when you remembered the bandage Alastor had dressed you with. Would it be too soon to remove? And what was hiding underneath? A pang of anxiety shot through you, wishing he was here to provide the answers.

But he’s not.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to find in the mirror, but you had definitely underestimated the state of your neck. There didn’t seem to be an inch of it that wasn’t touched by a violet bruise or scarlet bite, save for your throat, which presented a contrast so stark it almost made you dizzy. How the hell will I cover this up?

The only thing you owned with a collar high enough was the dress that Alastor had ruined in a fit of passion with no replacement in sight. You took a deep breath and shed the housecoat, taking in the bandage that wrapped around your left shoulder and chest, unsure of where to start in terms of unwrapping it — he had done a very good job. A fact that weighed on your heart like a stone.

You managed to find the loose end as the shower warmed up, easily unwinding the gauze from your chest until you gingerly began the task of peeling it off your shoulder. Worried that parts of it might have stuck to each mark of his fangs; a painful fate you weren’t able to completely avoid, but on the whole, you considered yourself lucky that the gauze had only latched to a few of the punctures. An incredulous huff of a laugh escaped you when you realized that the huge bite would actually be easier to hide than the hickies.

As was typically the case, you felt a lot better once you were out of the shower. It was a serenity that was quickly pulled out from under you when you opened your bathroom door and saw Alastor sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped, hand over your heart. It was mostly true, though you found yourself more relieved at the sight of him than anything.

“Ha, ha! Yes, I’ve been known to do that,” he said, his eyes narrowing with a smug mirth as he patted the empty space next to him. “Come sit. I thought you might need some help.”

You sighed, doing your best to keep your heartbeat steady as you crossed the room and sat down on the bed with your back to him at his direction with a silent spin of his finger. He had brought a little kit of supplies consisting of a couple tins, tape, and gauze. The items laid out near him on the bed with a meticulousness you couldn’t help but find endearing. Was there anything he set out to do without poise and purpose?

He quickly got to work, humming aimlessly to himself as he applied one of the tinctures to each puncture of his bite. Whatever it was, the subtle sting it provided was a nice distraction from the overwhelming herbal smell it gave off. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but you would be glad to have it covered up all the same. Alastor had to lean over you to attend to the wounds on your collarbone, and you let yourself get lost in the look of concentration on his face.

“You’re in a good mood today,” you said quietly as his hand fanned over the medicine to dry.

He huffed a small laugh, lips curling into a pleasant smile. “Well I certainly never set out to be in a bad mood, my dear.” He let out a melodramatic sigh before adding, “It’s just thrust upon me.”

“Aww, what a victim you are,” you pouted sarcastically, laughing when he flicked your arm.

“You’re in quite the good mood yourself, all things considered,” he mused, applying the balm from his second tin.

The careful but firm application from his fingers made you hum with content and the two of you locked eyes then, but the look in his was torn; fighting between fondness and pity. He didn’t have to say it, you already knew.

“We need to talk about yesterday,” you said, resigned, pleased to hear that you sounded stronger than you felt.

He nodded with a sigh, the soft smile on his lips threatening to make your eyes well with sudden tears. “That we do, my dear. But let me finish with your bandage first, hm?”

You did your best not to overthink the conversation ahead of you while he finished applying the balm before wrapping you up, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. There were only so many things to say, after all. So many ways it could go…

What exactly did you want from all of this? It was hard enough to rectify the blossoming feelings you had for Alastor despite the short amount of time you had known him. But you had discovered so much about him in spite of that, the sex just made it more complicated. It wasn’t that you regretted it — how could you? You wouldn’t deny that it had been the best sex of your existence. Even with the bite. Still, you were typically much more cautious when it came to giving your heart away to someone. What was it about Alastor that made you throw your rules to the wayside?

When you racked your brain for an answer, all it did was conjure his image. Silly, considering he was right behind you. Methodically dressing your wound with the same amount of care he had displayed after giving it to you. How many times had those hands provided you with his brand of reassurance? That mix of tenderness and strength that he gave to you at his whim, effectively catching you in his push-and-pull game. Whether your feelings for him in the aftermath had been his intent or not, well. They were there.

The playing ground was tipped in his favor, but you understood that. Even in the middle of your tryst, you knew that it could very well be the only time. Maybe he just needed to let off some steam. Yesterday you had felt resolved enough to be of use to him in whichever way he needed, more than willing to let him have his prize (so to speak). It would be naive to think that the dynamic between you wouldn’t change. Either for better or worse, that was inevitable but… that didn’t explain why you felt so dejected.

What do I want?

Could you be satisfied with being used as a plaything, if that’s what he wanted? The thought of him never touching you again made that an easier pill to swallow, bitter as it was. But you weren’t a fool. It’s not as if you were expecting a marriage proposal.

Suddenly Alastor's hand was cupping your face so that you were looking up at him, a relaxed but almost somber expression waiting for you.

“You’re worried. I can smell it, you know.”

You sighed, resenting the blush you felt creeping across your face. “Of course you can. I don’t think there’s anything that’s only mine anymore beyond my own thoughts.”

The words came out sharper than you had meant them to, but you didn’t apologize. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to mind, staying silent as if waiting for you to continue. So you did.

“Do you regret it? And be honest with me… please.”

It was his turn to sigh now, taking a moment before responding calmly. “Not all of it.”

I knew it.

Really, you did. But the knowledge wasn’t helping as much as you hoped it would. In fact, it was only serving to make you feel worse.

“Which parts?”

He said your name with a warning. One you should have heeded, given how long it had been since he had spoken your real name. But you didn’t look away from him. You refused to beg with your mouth, so you pleaded with your eyes. Just tell me.

Alastor exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound.

“The circumstance doesn't sit right with me. I’m sure you didn’t notice, but Valentino left his pheromones on you — and they were especially potent… I have a hard time believing his intention was for you to make it out with just a bite.” He looked down at your shoulder then, an unreadable expression on his face. “I don’t enjoy being played for a fool.”

A flash of anger shot through you, but you did your best to quell it. Letting it get the better of you right now would only be to your detriment. Did he not realize what a cruel, selfish thing that was to say? He wasn’t the only one who had been toyed with.

“Okay, so what about last night? The second time. Were the pheromones still working then, too?” you pressed. The embarrassment you felt fueling the frustration in your voice.

Alastor stood up then, the strain of impatience beginning to show on his face as he towered over you. “I suggest you watch your tone, child. And remember that I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. You are beholden to me. Not the other way around.”

The simmering anger you had managed to keep down boiled over at that, and you jumped to your feet to glare up at him. Since any kind of autonomy was out of the question, then an explanation was the least he could give you. And even then, it was something you could no longer be satisfied with if it was coming from some twisted form of benevolence on his part.

Valentino had his part to play, but it’s not like he had forced Alastor to kiss you when you offered him your help. You couldn’t reconcile the words he was saying now, so contradictory to his actions. Every kind word and touch… Did they all come from some weird obligation he felt to play the part until the pheromones wore off? The bandage he had just applied with such attentiveness felt like a mockery. How did you let yourself get so carried away by it all? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Everything is your way, your pace! All you’ve done since I met you is push me around and play with my feelings — and have I ever done anything than take it? I clean your room the way you want it, I keep up with all the busywork you give me. And now you’ve taken one of the last pieces of me that was still just mine, but that was a game, too!”

“You forget your place!” he roared, his face darkening with fury as the chain appeared around your neck. He pulled the leash taught so that you were standing on your toes as he forced you to look up at him, your hands instinctively holding onto it to balance your weight. “If your existence here is so miserable, perhaps you’d like to join the souls I keep in my radio? I can assure you it’s less than pleasant,” he hissed with vitriol, tugging on the chain so that your faces were nearly touching. Your toes no longer on the floor.

Despite your better judgement, you leaned in. Too ashamed and angry to stay calm; tears flowing freely down your face from the intensity of the loathing you currently felt towards him and yourself.

“You’d be doing me a fucking favor,” you said, choking the words out through your sob-heavy throat. Every bit of it the truth. “And I’m sure you’ll have a great time telling everyone where you sent me.”

“Vicious brat!” he shrilled, face distorted with malicious static that hovered around him like a storm. Then the chain and static disappeared as you collapsed to the floor. But the venom in his red eyes hurt you more than that chain ever could. Or at least that’s how you felt until he spoke next, the chill in his voice piercing you with every word. “Keep your distance from me if you know what’s good for you. If I catch you roaming the hall of my suite, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Then he was gone, spiriting himself away in shadow. Leaving you to sob on the floor of your room.

Alone.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmic-lavender, @stardustandbrimstone, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @phamtasic, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #song fic #if i can't have love i want power #love and power #x reader #slow burn #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn

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woniverse-writes · 1 year ago

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"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 3)"

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

part 2 ⟵ part 3 ⟶ part 4

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 9.2k

warnings: swearing, suggestive at times, both Bada and reader are idiots practically already in love, reader is described as younger and small a lot, sometimes isn't very accurate to swf's actual plot, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!

All teams had gone their separate ways to begin discussing which company they were going to aim for. The only two teams securing the company of their choosing were Wolf’Lo and Lady Bounce- meanwhile Bebe, TsubaKill, and 1 Million all go for JYP; and Jam Republic, Mannequeen, and Deep N Dap all go for Hybe. When Bebe had walked into the room to 1 Million in there as well, they knew it would be interesting- then even more so when TsubaKill entered. And even though none of them outwardly said so, all of Bebe was secretly glad they weren’t going up against Jam Republic.

Jam Republic on the other hand- wasn’t worried at all when they saw Deep N Dap enter the room. In fact- when Kirsten had reported the information back to the team as they were preparing, Emma and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk and snort at how easy it would be.

So all teams began preparing their choreography to battle against each other. Everyone was working hard and staying focused, ensuring they put out their best work to secure the company of their choosing. Bada had stepped out briefly, leaving the rest of Bebe to start choreographing. when she came back, they had yet to start anything, only having collected ideas. It frustrated the leader beyond words, yet she still tried her best to express the dissatisfaction she was feeling to her teammates.

“You guys know I’m not the only person on this team, right?” the eldest member sighed passively with her eyes shut in frustration. The others all stood in silence, too ashamed to speak up.

“Every time we go out there, everyone calls us “Bada and her students”- aren’t you tired of that?? I’m tired of it, so why aren’t you?” she started raising her voice. Bada looked around at her teammates and felt disappointed, but was also starting to feel exhausted.

“I’m not competing by myself here… let’s get started” she sighed and everyone fell into a clump behind her, ready to follow her instructions. They begin working and eventually develop a pretty good routine, except everyone is on edge and they all keep making little mistakes.

The Bebe members take a break and Bada grabs her phone and her water, walking out the door to get some air. She can’t help but criticize herself, wishing she was able to lead her team better- lead them in a way where they felt confident enough to work on their own. But no, Bada is still learning, yet not giving herself a break. She almost feels pathetic when she opens her messages app and her and y/n’s texts are already pulled up. She sighed reading over the last few messages they were talking about, which happened to be from the night before after they had all picked their groups. Bada had been saying how she was kind of glad their teams weren’t directly against each other, and y/n replied with something along the lines of how she agreed- saying it would’ve broken her heart. Bada types out a quick ‘how’s it going?’, not expecting a response right away but still hoping for it anyway. The leader was starting to accept the fact that the younger dancer was becoming a safe space for her, and she had a feeling that said dancer felt the same.

In the meantime- Jam Republic is having a blast coming up with choreography, their teamwork is impeccable, and the ideas flow like water. After about three hours of non-stop motion they take a longer break. Y/n sprawls out on the floor and Audrey comes to lay on top of her, causing them both to laugh- until Emma also comes to lay on top of them, and suddenly Audrey was dying laughing and y/n was groaning about how it’s not fair for the smallest to be on the bottom. The older three members sat back and admired their playfulness- Latrice began recording the chaos and Kirsten started snapping pictures. After a few minutes of messing around, Emma rolled off the two and Audrey followed, leaving y/n dramatically breathing with her eyes closed and head tilted- pretending like she was dying. Ling made her way over to the youngest with her phone and water in hand, passing them off to her as she sat up.

“Thanks Ling Ling” the younger girl appreciated with her eyes still shut, but a sweet gentle smile on her face. y/n opened her phone as she took a sip of her water to see a message from Bada. It was sent a couple of minutes ago simply asking ‘how’s it going?’ wot which she quickly replied with ‘pretty good! We’re getting a lot done and it looks pretty good too🫣😋’ totally unaware of how tragic the Bebe practice is going.

Right as Bada is about to put down her phone and start the practice back up, she feels it buzz and looks down to see it light up with a new text notification. She immediately opens it to see y/n’s reply, and smiles, happy to know at least one of them is doing well. She typed out ‘that’s great! Wish I could say the same haha… but it’s okay- I feel more motivated now after hearing that your practice is going well🩵’ and pressed send before waiting a few seconds to see if she’d get a response right away- which she did.

‘Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that love :( I hope it gets better- just remember to keep drinking water and DON’T overwork yourself! It’s important to do your best but you also need to make sure you’re in your best state of mind as well’ was the text Bada had received and truth be told, it made her a little emotional. She hearted the message and began typing again. ‘Let’s get something to eat after the battles tomorrow, okay? On me’

Y/n felt her face heat up and a smile began to take over as she read the latest message from Bebe’s leader. She made sure to heart the message and respond quickly with an ‘of course!! That sounds great!’ before putting her phone down and getting back to practice.

Bada felt relieved at y/n’s acceptance, sending a heart emoji then turning her phone off to head back to practice- now with a much better attitude. Her change in mood seemed to bring up the team's morale as a whole, seeing as how every member was bringing their a-game now. They finished choreographing and ran their routine into the late hours of the night before deciding to turn in and get some rest for a few hours. They came back the next morning and rehearsed a bit more, but ultimately they felt confident and were ready to compete.

As all the teams filtered in, everyone was sharing their nerves and excitement among themselves. Jam Republic was up first to battle and their three youngest members were beyond excited to take the stage. They showed their choreo, and even though they were only given a short period of time to work on, they blew everyone away with how energetic and clean it was. Audrey and Y/n once again received immense praise for their facials and explosive stage presence. The performance ended and while the other members were trying to catch their breath and process how they did, the two youngest members were skipping back to their seats giggling over how fun it was and how they hoped to keep HYBE so they could do it again

After watching Mannequeen, y/n was excited about how good it was but felt a little nervous after seeing her leader's tense expression

"Hey, let's try not to worry too much, we already danced and did our best, and we did amazing! Let's just try to enjoy the other dances right now" the youngest member softly states after putting a gentle hand on her leader's shoulder, giving her a bright youthful smile.

"y/n since when did you get so mature? You don't seem fired up at all right now and it's kinda scaring me" Latrice commented from the other side, causing y/n’s smile to widen a little.

"won't you be upset if we get eliminated?" Kirsten asked seriously before the younger girl could respond to the initial question.

"Of course, but I'm so tired I can't even think that far ahead right now" she joked. The members all rolled their eyes and laughed. after staying up all night to perfect their piece, they could barely even process it when the votes came in and Deep n Dap was kicked instead of Jam Republic. But to be completely honest, they weren’t surprised at all.

They move on to the JYP battle section, meaning it’s time for Bebe, 1 Million, and TsubaKill. 1 million goes first and of course, y/n is hyping up her new friends- especially Redy, which Bada is absolutely not happy about. She hates it, it makes her more nervous.

y/n is even more excited while watching Tsubakill, cheering again for the member she’s closest with- Rena, but also fangirling over their leader, Akanen. This again makes Bada even more nervous- to the point where she feels like she's gonna pass out. She hated feeling jealous but she also hated how badly she wanted to please the youngest dancer from Jam Republic- and that paired with her already crushing need to succeed was tearing her apart.

"Bada looks really tense…" Latrice comments

"oh my god I feel like I'm gonna throw up- I'm so nervous" y/n replies with her hand on her chest. Kirsten puts an arm around her shoulder, the whole pink team now feeling anxious. Bebe goes and they do amazing. Y/n is cheering and screaming the whole time, over the moon excited to see how well the routine turned out. When they finished dancing and everyone was cheering all the members bowed and turned to the various teams. When Bada had turned to face Jam Republic, y/n was already standing up throwing her hands in the air.

“What were you even worried about?? That was fucking amazing!!” the young girl scremaed with a huge smile on her face, causing Bada to share the same expression before shaking her head and turning back around to await the results. Everyone votes and the results are announced, 1 Million will be moving to another section.

After all the teams are adjusted, it’s announced that the two teams of each company will have an hour and a half to decide who gets to choreograph each song, then they will all take a four-hour filming break for lunch, but teams were allowed to begin collecting ideas if they wanted to. Bada had already discussed with her team that they would be taking their break to relax and decompress as long as they had gotten to stay in JYP. similarly, Jam Republic had also decided to take their break if they got to keep their original group.

Bada came waltzing over to Jam Republic’s seating with a cool smile on her face, even though she was really trying to contain an accomplished grin. y/n hopped down and met the older girl at the bottom, her teammates trying their best not to be nosy, but failing miserably.

“So I’m thinking a quick shower and then we can go?” Bada had asked looking down at the shorter girl who just smiled and nodded at first, her cheeks a little flushed already.

“Mmhm! Sounds good to me!” y/n responded enthusiastically, even though her brain was still stuck on the thought of Bada showering- or rather them showering together. Bada held up her hand like she was waiting for y/n to shake it, which she did albeit with a confused look.

“Alright- see you soon then princess!” Bada affirmed, giving a final playfully aggressive shake to y/n’s hand, as if they had just sealed an important business deal, causing the younger of the two to burst out into giggles. After Bada is back with her crew, y/n turns around to see the rest of Jam Republic eyeing her expectantly.

“Soooo what exactly are you gonna be doing later, princess?” Kirsten interrogated with a teasing smile. y/n just laughed some more and her smile grew wider (if that was even possible).

“Nothing crazy, we’re just going to get lunch” she had explained, somewhat calm, not entirely believing herself when she described it as “nothing crazy”. They all nodded and hummed, pretending to believe her.

“Right… just lunch… nothing crazy!” Emma repeated sarcastically with a knowing smile.

“Just don’t come back with hickeys the makeup crew won’t be able to cover-” Ling teased quietly to which everyone shot her a wide-eyed look.

“what? The way that girl looks at her is definitely not television-appropriate seventy-five percent of the time!” she exclaims, trying to defend her comment, which causes everyone to chuckle and nod in agreement.

“She’s got you there y/n… you should definitely go somewhere public, so she doesn’t pounce on you.” Emma snorts out a laugh, finding herself to be the funniest person in the room. Audrey shoves her shoulder and scoffs.

“Leave her alone- this is exciting! Y/n isn’t as delusional as we all thought!” “No Audrey- she’s still delusional, her delusions are just reciprocated by someone even more delusional that’s just really good at hiding it.” All the members look over to see Lusher standing in front of them with a knowing smirk. All of their faces drop, now looking a little panicked.

“It’s okay- we’ve been having pretty much the same conversations with Bada.” the Bebe sub-leader reassures them with a subtle laugh and smile. They all briefly relax before turning their full attention back to the girl in front of them.

“Wait- what do you mean you have the same conversations? About y/n???” Emma excitedly speaks up, leaning forward ready for the tea. Y/n also leans forward hands resting against Emma’s shoulders, with wide eyes and a tiny curious smile.

“Well… yes… but I don’t think right now is the best time to explain.” Lusher draws out with a teasing smile, causing Emma and Y/n to groan, but the rest to shake their heads and laugh.

“Anyways- I actually came over to see if the rest of you would want to get lunch with us, seeing as our precious teammates decided to ditch us for a date.” The standing girl finishes off her offer by crossing her arms and landing her eyes on y/n with another teasing look.

“That sounds great!” Audrey gushes, smiling happily at the invitation before looking over at Kirsten for confirmation. The older nods her head and smiles.

“We’d love to, thank you so much.” Kirsten nods again gratefully, and Lusher smiles before heading back to her team. After the short break, all teams head into their battle rooms to decide who is going to get to choreograph a chunk of each song. Everyone else seems to have figured it out quickly, besides Mannequeen and Jam Republic, who ended up taking the whole hour and a half they had been given. After it was decided that Mannequeen would take “Dope” and Jam Republic would take “Eve, Psych, and the Bluebird’s Wife” they were finally able to go on their break. The rest of Jam Republic decided to head out and meet team Bebe for lunch right away, while y/n texted Bada to let her know she was just finishing up the decision process and that she was going to change quickly before the meeting.

Y/n rushed back to her apartment and showered before drying her hair and doing her makeup. She had kept it light but still pretty, tying the look together with her signature gloss. Her outfit was simple- well- simple for her. She had on a pink tank top paired with a khaki skirt and layered a white jacket on top. She finished getting ready and shot Bada a quick text letting her know she was leaving. They decided to meet at a cafe that was in between their apartments and happened to be really close to the studio. Once y/n had arrived she walked in to see Bada already sitting at a table looking at her phone.

“Hey! Sorry I kept you waiting…” y/n spoke up shyly as she approached the table. To which Bada looked up and shook her head immediately, signaling it was no problem.

“You didn’t keep me waiting, I actually just got here a few minutes ago” the older shared to ease the younger girl’s mind. She ‘ahh’ed and took her seat across from Bada. They exchange small talk for a moment over what they’re going to order and begin conversing more comfortably after that. Their food and drinks arrive as they continue their conversations about how each other’s day has been going. Y/n is currently retelling how the decision process went down between them and Mannequeen, and even though she's disappointed in losing dope she laughs about it openly because Mannequeen was surprisingly sweet and respectful about it (or at least most of them).

"Wait- so you’re telling me they blocked your door??" Bada asked in disbelief after taking a bite of her food, trying not to laugh.

"YES" Y/n openly laughed at Bada not fully believing her and took a sip of her drink. They continued to laugh about it for a little bit before going back to talking about how team Bebe had been doing.

“I’m just glad we were able to pull it off… I was really stressed.” Bada tried to laugh about it so she didn’t seem too troubled in front of y/n, but the younger girl still frowned and reached across the table to take Bada’s hand on hers, rubbing the back of it gently before nodding at her to continue.

“I felt horrible especially in the beginning, because it really seemed like I was the only one putting in work… but then I felt even worse after thinking about how it’s my fault that my teammates don’t feel secure enough or confident enough to lead themselves… I felt so selfish. Like I wasn’t fit to continue leading them in that moment…” the older girl continued quietly, looking down at the table. She didn’t want y/n to pity her, but it just felt too easy to open up to the girl.

“You’re too hard on yourself.” she spoke up, looking at Bada with puppy eyes. The young girl could feel her heart shattering into pieces while listening to the leader describe her stress. She just wanted to lean over the table and wrap her in a giant hug, and coddle her until she had no more negative thoughts about herself. Bada sighed and hung her head for a second before looking back up at the girl across from her.

“I know…” she began with a sad smile.

“I just feel like I have to always put out the best work- especially here. There are so many amazing dancers and choreographers, so many teams with such strong presences… I just want that for Bebe. I want them all to be strong and recognizable because believe it or not, I hate that everyone only sees me when they think of my team…” Bada finishes off her rant with her head resting in her hand that isn’t still being held by y/n’s.

“Bada-” the other starts

“You do always put out your best work. everything you do is amazing- whether it’s as a dancer, a choreographer, and especially as a leader. Your girls look up to you a lot for a reason. They wouldn't care so much about your opinion if they didn’t think you were deserving of leading them.” Y/n finishes off strong and the look in her eyes assures Bada that she means every word. She looks back down and smiles again, feeling pressure starting to build in her eyes- there is no way Bada will let herself cry in front of y/n like this.

“You did well. I’m really proud of you.” y/n smiled and nodded gently, squeezing Bada’s hand in reassurance and that caused a single tear to slip down the older girl’s cheek, sending the younger into a slight panic.

“Ah- don’t cry!” Y/n stood up and ran over to Bada’s side of the booth, sitting down next to her as she began wiping her tears with her jacket sleeve. The younger continued to do so until Bada had stopped crying. Y/n looked into Bada’s eyes with a pout on her face as she tucked a piece of hair behind the older girl’s ear. Her hands were still resting on her cheeks, caressing the taller dancer’s face, even though the tears had stopped flowing a while ago. The two sat there in silence, just embracing the close proximity. Bada’s breathing was shallow, still recovering from crying, but now feeling nervous after realizing how close y/n was. The younger of the two glanced down at the other’s lips and stared for a few seconds before hearing her gasp quietly, causing her to look back up. Y/n backed away slightly, to Bada’s disappointment, but only to give herself room to pull one of her hands away and kiss her thumb, before placing her hand back on the older girl’s jaw and rubbing said thumb gently across her bottom lip. Bada was so shocked by her boldness, she felt her lips part slightly and her face heat up. Y/n just smiled lightly at her reaction, once again staring at her lips. She looks up to make eye contact on her own this time, kind of loving the power she has over the older girl at this moment.

“Are you feeling better now” she whispers gently and Bada just nods in a daze. Y/n hums and nods also, rubbing her cheek one more time before standing and heading back to her own seat. Bada snaps out of her daze, still feeling dizzy at the interaction. She clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink. The rest of lunch goes on without another serious incident, but y/n’s eyes are filled with what could only be explained as “pure love and adoration” for the remainder of their time together. The two end up heading back to the studio together, sharing the backseat of a cab.

Bada really is shocked by how bold y/n has become with her- after they finish up their meal and pay for everything, their cab arrives. Bada opened the door for y/n, which she giggled about and joked that Bada was such a gentleman to her, causing the older to roll her eyes and smile before explaining how she simply was taking care of her princess.

“Her princess…” y/n couldn’t stop thinking about that as they drove back. Once the two had both gotten in the car, they started off pretty evenly spaced out with Bada on one side and y/n on the other. But after about two and a half minutes they were side by side, and eventually, y/n had her legs lying across Bada’s lap as they cuddled and looked at the pictures they had taken together on their phones. When they had arrived back at the studio, y/n swung her legs back over placing her feet onto the car floor, opening her own door this time. Bada had followed her coming out the way, making sure to close the door behind and thank the driver. The two walked right next to each other, shoulders bumping but neither of them being brave enough to reach out and hold the other’s hand. As they both reached the lobby, it was almost the end of their allotted break time.

“I had a really great time today… so thank you” y/n began with a shy smile and blush painting her face, as she looked up at the older girl. Bada shared a similar smile, also taking on the look of “love and adoration” that y/n’s been sporting for the last hour or so.

“Eyy you don’t need to thank me…” she began just as shyly

“I also had a great time- even if I did cry a little-” Bada joked halfway through, causing y/n to giggle and bump her shoulder.

“But I seriously love talking to you… I’m hoping we can do this again soon.” it wasn’t a question, but the younger girl’s eyes were immediately lighting up and she was nodding her head.

“Of course! I’d love to!” y/n started enthusiastically, but then she took a deep breath and continued

“I really love talking to you too” she thought she was gonna cry if she said anything else, so the younger girl just finished off with a smile and sparkling eyes, not believing what was happening. Her heart was pounding and her face hurt from how much she had been smiling. Y/n thought her stomach was going to explode from how many butterflies she was feeling- it was like a real crush now… not some celebrity crush or feeling of admiration for someone older that one looks up to… these were real romantic feelings and y/n was surprisingly ready to deal with them. And even if she wasn’t, the way Bada was smiling at her would definitely change her mind.

_______________

Rehearsals have been exhausting, especially after having learned their opponents' choreography. For some teams, it was an easy adjustment, but for others… it was definitely a challenge.

TsubaKill had thrown in a tough acrobatic skill that was tough for even some dancers with experience in that area. Tatter was struggling to stick her landing on the double front handspring, and it was definitely bringing down the team’s confidence. Bada tried her best to stay positive as their leader, but even the members could tell she was starting to get nervous.

They’re given a longer break and Bada takes a walk, not even realizing she ended up near Jam Republic’s practice space. The pink also seems to be on break and the Bebe leader stands outside debating whether or not to knock on their door.

“Y/n…” Latrice starts suspiciously. The younger girl hums while taking a sip of her water, looking over with wide eyes.

“I think someone’s looking for you.” she finishes off with a soft knowing smile, pointing in the direction of their doorway. The younger looks over and furrows her brows, immediately standing up to head over to Bada.

“Hey- what's up? Are you okay?” the youngest Jam member asks in a concerned voice, eyes expressing how genuinely worried she is. Bada’s expression isn’t doing much to help her feel at ease, as the older hesitates for a second before sighing and closing her eyes.

“I don’t know… this practice is going terribly.” She begins, laughing pitifully, trying not to cry. Y/n pouts and makes a noise expressing her sadness and understanding. She immediately wraps her arms around the taller girl's waist, securing her in a comforting hug. Bada huffs out a sad laugh and wraps her arms around the smaller girl's shoulder, resting her head atop of hers. They stay like that for a few minutes with y/n rubbing circles on the older girl’s back. The whole time Bada was wishing she could just stay there forever, thinking that she might even fall asleep if she let herself stay any longer. She let out a sigh and stood up straight, patting Y/n's head before reaching to hold the smaller girl’s face in both hands. Y/n still had her arms loosely around the taller girl and was forced to look up at her since Bada was holding her face softly between her hands. The younger girl’s eyes glittered as she smiled softly, tilting her head slightly to lean into one of the older’s palms, looking lovingly into her eyes. In that moment Bada felt herself let out an uncontrollable giggle.

“You really are a puppy…” she stated absentmindedly with a lovestruck smile, still staring into the younger’s sparkly eyes. y/n giggled girlishly and wrapped her arms tighter around Bada’s waist teasingly, causing the older girl to laugh and squish the smaller’s cheeks playfully between her large hands. Both were giggling and clinging to each other, and the rest of Jam Republic was either smiling endearingly at them or making fake gagging noises (Emma). Bada sighed and let go of y/n’s face, placing her hands on her shoulders instead. The smaller of the two finally let go of the other’s waist and stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I should probably let you get back to practice…” Bada pouted slightly, not really wanting to go back to her own practice.

“I mean, you don’t haaaave to…” the younger dragged out her sentence with a playful eye-roll, playing around still, also not wanting the older girl to leave. Bada huffed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Okay, well I definitely need to get back to practice.” she stated, trying not to sound too distraught by it. Y/n’s eyes softened and her face fell for a split second, almost unnoticeably, before a gentle smile took over her face.

“Just please don’t overwork yourself… or the girls. Take care of each other please, your health and mentality are most important…” the younger girl pleaded looking deeply into Bada’s eyes. She patted her head and ruffled her hair a little, causing her to whine slightly. Bada laughed again and nodded her head.

“I promise we’ll all take care of ourselves… but we’re still gonna work just as hard as before. At least until we get things right.” her face dropped a little and the somber expression was back.

“No. health first, Bada… you won’t be able to get anything right if you’re injured… so please take care of yourself.” and after seeing the pleading look in y/n’s eyes while she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, Bada really couldn’t find it in her to argue. So she let out a sigh and nodded.

“Okay…” she nods again looking at the ground, feeling a bit emotional. Bada takes another deep breath and stands up straight, smiling again, causing y/n to smile again.

“Alright, well i’m gonna get back to practice-” the older states, and right as y/n’s about to reply, Bada places a quick kiss atop her head, and then struts off back to her practice space, leaving the younger girl with her jaw dropped and eyes wide as ever. Once she’s taken quite a few steps and put some distance between them, Bada turns over her shoulder and throws y/n a wink paired with a teasing smile. The younger can’t help but huff out a laugh of absolute astonishment and disbelief. As Bada turns the corner and is out of y/n’s sight, the Jam Republic girl doesn’t even want to turn around to see her teammates' expressions, knowing damn well she’s gonna have to answer a lot of questions.

__________

The next day arrives and it’s time for everyone to present their pieces to the other crews, as well as record their practice videos to send in for the artists to view. While all of Jam Republic is in a good mood and extremely excited to show off their routine, their youngest can’t help but feel a little anxious. Not for herself, but for the team sitting next to them, and more specifically for their leader.

Bebe was one of the first to go and it started off well. They seemed pretty relaxed until it came time for Tatter’s front handspring. She didn’t stick the landing and it threw everyone off, but the team didn’t falter, continuing on as if it didn’t happen. Y/n was cheering the loudest, especially for Tatter, letting her know it was okay. But when the blonde didn’t land her font walkover as well, y/n’s screams increased in volume tenfold.

“YOU’VE GOT THIS TATTER- LET’S GO GIRL” she’s screaming so hard that her chest hurts, and the small girl can feel tears starting to sting her eyes. At this point everyone else was cheering for the team as well, wanting to see them finish off strong. The second it was over, Bada was turning to Tatter and wrapping her in a tight hug. The younger member cried and cried, while her leader petted her hair and shushed her.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Bada whispered to the crying girl in her arms, who shook her head and backed away to wipe her tears. The leader pushed some hair out of her face, and pulled her back in for another hug, leading her and the rest of the team back to their seats. Everyone continued to cheer for them as loud as possible.

“You did well, it’s okay. It was just a mistake. As long as you’re not hurt, that's what matters right now.” the blonde sighs, finally calming down and she lays her head on the oldest member’s shoulder, closing her eyes for a few moments.

On the other side of them, Jam Republic is holding back their own tears, feeling immensely sorry for the team they’ve grown so close to. Except for y/n who is freely letting her tears fall, as she hides her face in her hands. Latrice rubs her back until she calms down and is able to sit back up without crying.

A couple more teams take their turns before it’s time for Jam Republic. It’s safe to say that when they do their routine and everyone goes fucking crazy. Their ability to pick up Mannequeen’s whacking section and execute it as well as they did, sent everyone into a frenzy. On top of that, their energy and expressions were beyond praise, so everyone was just screaming.

Everyone is surprised to see that the team isn’t utilizing y/n more, or at least using her old choreography. The youngest member mostly shared the center with another member, yet was never the main focus. The only highlight she really has is after Audrey’s articulated arch, where she runs to lead the line for a brief second, her expressions and energy being what makes her stand out. The look in her eyes and the slight smirk make everyone go crazy over the visuals and stage presence.

“THAT’S MY GIRL” Bada is leaning over her teammates screaming the loudest anyone has heard her scream. Her teammates just give her the same side eye they always do whenever she starts openly fangirling over y/n. But they all have just learned to ignore it for the most part now. Jam Republic finishes their routine and are all breathing heavily as they bow and walk back to their seats. While everyone’s still clapping and the members are about to sit down, Bada discreetly lifts up her fist right when y/n is about to walk by. The younger just smirks, trying not to laugh at the older girl’s silly yet supportive action, and bumps her smaller fist against Bada’s.

The rehearsal finishes and the following day is the pre-recording and live performance. All the teams are once again getting their makeup done, this time sharing a room with their members.

“I can’t believe we’ve been here so long already and this is only the first mission we get to do together” Latriece states while getting her eyeshadow done. The others hum and some nod.

“It feels like we’ve been here forever, but it’s actually only been a couple of months…” y/n replies as her stylist applies a gemstone to her under eye.

“Only? I feel like these have been the longest two months of my life.” Emma exaggerates in return, causing a few of the members to hum more aggressively than before. They finished up with getting their makeup done and in typical y/n fashion, the first thing she did was start taking mirror selfies. At first, she was taking them by herself, and then of course Audrey joined… then Ling joined, and soon after that it was all of Jam Republic scrunched together trying to fit in the frame of one mirror. After that, Latrice offered to take more elaborate pictures for her, knowing how the young girl loves to pose and post. Once all that is done, they have a few minutes before having to head backstage for the pre-filming. Y/n doesn’t even think twice before opening her messages app and sending Bada a few of the selfies she took, along with some of the full-body pics Latrice had taken for her.

Bada’s finishing up in hair and makeup when she feels her phone buzz. Already getting her hopes up at the familiar hum of her text notification, she can’t help but expect a message from a certain Jam Republic member. Sure enough- when she unlocks her phone, she’s met with a series of selfies and other photos of the youngest member, dressed in pink and white with glittery makeup. Bada doesn’t even feel herself smile, she’s so lost in a dream over the pretty girl on her phone.

‘Absolutely stunning, Princess🩷’ she presses send without even thinking. Y/n hearted the message and sent the hand heart emoji right as Bada was about to be done with her hair. As soon as the stylists step away the Bebe leader is opening her camera and snapping her own mirror selfies, immediately sending her favorites to y/n.

‘Ugh how do you always look SO fucking good😩🩵’ was the response Bada got almost instantaneously from the younger girl, to which she giggled and covered her mouth with her fist trying to hide her smile. Hearing the soft sound Lusher looked over and sighed affectionately at her blushing teammate.

“Did y/n text you?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Bada looked over with wide eyes, a bit shocked forgetting that everyone else could still perceive her in the present moment.

“Oh- uhm…” the eldest tried to be cool and calm, attempting to avoid the conversation, but just as soon as her walls went up, they came right back down.

“yeah… she did” and she was giggling and smiling again, causing Lusher to burst out laughing at her leader’s openness. It was a relief to the younger girl to see Bada so relaxed and at peace, even though they still had to go out and compete in a few hours. Seeing one of her closest friends and now team leader act the way she did with and around y/n made her feel okay, knowing that there was someone to take care of her just like how she had been taking care of them.

___________

Before the pre-recordings start an announcement is played on the monitors. It’s a member or group of members from each company, declaring who they thought was the better team during their practice. Le Sserafim chose Jam Republic as the better team, meaning they got to choose whether they went first or second during the live show- they chose to go second after Mannequeen.

During the practice/filming period- everything started out well for Jam Republic. They were all laughing and having a blast watching the other crews. They all casually made fun of wolf’lo for their uhm… “hip-hop look”… and ended up delving into a slightly more serious conversation about how crazy it is that level of cultural appropriation is still going on in 2023- the durags were already too much... whoever was styling these girls needed to get FIRED. After Mannequeen had gone it was finally their turn.

The recording started off really well until all of a sudden Latrice was on the ground, unable to get up. Y/n was right next to her when it happened, watching her go down. She stopped dancing immediately to make sure the older girl was okay and to see if she could get up. After a few moments, the team realized Latrice wasn’t going to be able to get up on her own any time soon and she was rushed to the hospital. The members halted their filming and headed back to their hideout. The members are holding it together surprisingly well at first, mostly just in shock at the situation. Audrey is the first to start crying, and it hits everyone else like a truck. Y/n is by her side in seconds, cuddling and trying to soothe her. Ling is next to start tearing up and shortly after y/n even sees Emma shed a tear. The youngest is able to hold it together until she looks up to see her leader crying. That’s when y/n feels the tears start falling uncontrollably, as she tucks her head into Audrey’s shoulder and silently cries.

“Is there an option we just forfeit?” Kirsten asks the staff, wiping her tears. Once Y/n hears this she picks up her head immediately and the look in her eyes is one of heartbreak and the poor girl seems terrified by the idea of giving up. The staff explains that if they were to forfeit it would immediately put them in last place, meaning they’d be up for elimination. This news caused them all to fall back into tears, completely lost on what to do. After what felt like half a day, Latrice came back with a boot on her leg. The other members immediately rushed to her side and helped her sit down.

“Basically I just have to ice it for a few hours and then I’m allowed to dance on it for the performance, but after that, I’m gonna have to rest for a while.” she had explained to them, as her team all watch over her with worried eyes. She then began talking to them about how Redlic was also in the hospital at the same time as her. The others were amused but y/n just rolled her eyes.

“Of course she was” the young girl mumbled, not at all surprised with the show’s resident drama queen. Latrice looked over and shook her with a laugh, then proceeded to joke about how she was starting to see Redlic as her soulmate instead of her rival, which ended up making y/n somewhat emotional again.

After a few hours of recovery, Jam Republic quickly shot their pre-recording of the routine and went back to get some touchups done on their makeup as the audience started pouring in. After about an hour and a half of anticipation, the live performance began. All the girls could hear the audience from backstage, and some even from their dressing rooms. It made them all even more hyped to perform.

TsubaKill does their performance first and everyone is blown away by how aggressive yet clean they are with their movements. When it’s Bebe’s turn y/n can feel her nerves increase by two hundred percent. The girl was already nervous, but knowing that Tatter had been struggling intensely with a few points really made y/n’s heart hurt for the other team. But her nerves quickly dissipated as she watched the blond stick her double front handspring, in fact- she was up and screaming immediately.

“LETS FUCKING GO TATTER” is the small girl’s immediate reaction. She’s standing on the couch in her crew’s waiting room, screaming with the rest of her team. y/n briefly calms down for a moment and brings herself to sit next to and cling to Emma, who pats her head and laughs.

“I feel like I’m gonna cry I’m so proud of her.” and the excitement only increases as the performance goes on. There’s one moment where they all point at someone in the crowd, and when it happens the camera pans to Bada, charismatically pointing and smirking, which has y/n’s jaw dropping to the floor and all of her members immediately looking her way to catch her reaction. No one says a word until y/n looks around to meet eyes with all of them. She holds up her hand and closes her eyes, pretending to cry.

“Enough.” is all she says yet it has her members bursting out in laughter. Minah is the next victim of Jam Republic’s inhumane screams of support, when she does her jerky laugh move, once again sending them all spiraling. Especially y/n and Audrey who are now standing on the couch again, clinging to each other for dear life. And then of course, y/n pretends to faint when Bada does her peek through the other members before the end half of the song. Emma smacks her on the side of the head, asking her politely (sarcastically) to pull herself together. Bebe finishes their routine and all the members are standing in the middle of their room cheering and clapping like maniacs.

Shortly after the JYP match, Mannequeen went first during the Hybe competition and for the first time, y/n is actually nervous for herself to compete. The other team had done really well and even adjusted accordingly to the choreography Jam Republic had given them. When it was time for the pink team themselves to finally perform, y/n took a deep breath and put on her game face- ready to go. The music started and she instantly felt herself become immersed in their doll-like theme. She and Ling had taken the center for the intro, already bringing the story to life. The audience loved them and so did the other crews. Bada really did try her best to focus on the dance as a whole and was able to when y/n wasn’t seen on the screen, but any other time her eyes were focused on the youngest member.

“I’m really surprised they didn’t utilize y/n more…” Minah shares with her group after the performance ends. To which Bada explained that the girl told her how she had wanted to help mostly behind the scenes for this one instead of taking the spotlight, as she’s not the only one on Jam Republic that can look good doing kpop choreo. They all ‘ahh’ed and nodded, adding yet another thing to the list of reasons they all admire y/n l/n.

When it’s revealed that Jam Republic won y/n bursts into tears and collapses on the ground, but she immediately gets up and hugs Latrice and they’re just crying together. The rest of the teams compete and the day ends as a success for half and a learning experience for the others.

Not even getting a day to rest and recover, the first elimination occurs the next day. Everyone once again files into the fight zone, taking their seats and waiting for filming to start. The first two battles to be announced were SM and YG, resulting in 1 Million and LadyBounce securing their safety from elimination. Next was JYP- Bebe versus TsubaKill.

“There’s no way Bebe will be up for elimination…” y/n starts off although she feels her stomach turning. Her teammates hum and nod as they focus their eyes on the screen in front of them, awaiting the results. But they all gasp when the scores are revealed.

“I didn’t think it would be that bad…” Audrey whispers with sad eyes. All of the members slowly turn to catch TsubaKill’s reaction to being up for elimination. They were surprisingly calm, still smiling and nodding peacefully. Bada had spoken about how she was proud of her team for pulling through but got choked up at the end, wishing their opponent good luck in the final battle.

When it came down to Mannequeen versus Jam Republic everyone was just about ready to throw up because they were so nervous.

“I actually have no clue how this is going to go… I have such an awful feeling about this” y/n’s shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands. The screen reveals that even though Jam Republic had won the judges' votes, Mannequeen won the audience points, and the whole pink team tensed up. They all join hands and hold onto each other as they await the final score. When it came, their shoulder sagged and they all let out a heavy breath. Jam Republic wins by a hair.

As the final team score is announced, the host reveals the final ranking with Bebe in first and Jam Republic in fourth. TsubaKill and Wolf’Lo had the two lowest ranks, so now their teams were going up against each other for one final match to determine who was going home.

The first of what would be five battles began, crew versus crew. Y/n’s already fangirling over Tsubakill, especially Akanen

“She’s so mommy-“ “I need you to actually shut the fuck up” (yet another classic argument between Jam Republic’s designated Tom & Jerry duo, Y/n and Emma). Meanwhile, Bada is just as excited but is more in favor of Wolf’lo, really enjoying their classic hip-hop dance style. Tsubakill takes the first win and everyone flips, but the second battle between them has y/n heated.

“Why the fuck is she tripping her and getting all up in her space… that’s so juvenile” She was outraged when Baby Sleek won, always hating when dancers got too touchy with each other during battles, but especially when they were dancing at the same time and one of the dancers got too reckless- aka Baby Sleek.

The leaders battle next and Jam Republic is heavily rooting for Akanen, especially y/n.

“If Akanen doesn’t win, I’m leaving” the youngest member dramatically expressed with her arms crossed, tapping her food comedically, causing her members to laugh.

“Oh so you’ve moved on from one team leader to the next already?” Emma teases and causes y/n’s jaw to drop and her eyebrows to furrow in defense. The duo battle was another hard-to-watch experience for her, as she felt that Wolf’Lo didn’t deserve the win for simply rolling around on the floor. Then the final group battle happened. Y/n absolutely loved TsubaKill’s performance, but it upset her to say that Wolf’Lo’s was slightly more put together.

When wolf’Lo takes the final win y/n’s head immediately hangs in defeat. She’s able to avoid crying until Rena starts speaking and they’re both instantly in tears. Once they’re told to leave the fight zone, y/n rushes down the seats and runs straight to Rena engulfing her in a huge hug. The two had become close ever since the class battle mission, and it hurt to see such a talented and kind-hearted friend go so soon. After they had all said their goodbyes and TsubaKill went back to their hideout for one final time to pack up their things, the rest continued to cry and try to pull themselves together. After about 45 minutes, each team took turns going up to say goodbye to the red team, truly not ready to let go of the newfound friends they all had made. TsubaKill turned off their sign and left, then the cameras stopped rolling for the day.

Each crew was back in their own hideout now, just discussing the events of the last few days and how they could relax briefly since they all survived the first elimination. Jam Republic’s room was eerily quiet as the small team with such big hearts sat heartbroken still. Y/n didn’t look herself, eyes tired and face puffy, and oh how it made her members feel even more upset knowing their youngest member took every blow straight to the heart- yet she never let that truly impact her as a person, always taking on every new situation with a bright smile and open-mind.

“How’re you holdin' up mama?” Kirsten asked, gently rubbing the young girl’s shoulder. Her lip quivered and she started to tear up again before leaning forward and hiding her face in her hands.

“This is so much harder than I thought it was gonna be.” Y/n cries into her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Kirsten just continued to rub circles on her back until she calmed down. Once she finally did manage to stop crying, the younger girl sat up and ran a hand through her hair, suddenly seeming a tiny bit more alive than before. She looked around at all her members and stopped at Emma.

“Fuck this shit.” she declared confidently and the members couldn’t help but chuckle and shake their heads, forever impressed by how unpredictable the girl will always be. She throws her head back to rest against the back of the sofa in their room. A few moments of silence pass then there's a knock on their door. Ling, who is sitting closest to it, stands up and opens the door, revealing a slightly-somber-looking Bada Lee. once she realizes all eyes are on her, the tall girl’s eyes widen and she clears her throat. Before anyone can even say anything y/n is up and moving.

“Hey, what’s up?” she whispers as she meets the older girl in the doorway. Bada stutters for a second before taking a breath.

“I just wanted to come check on you… I know you take these things pretty hard.” she had clarified with a sympathetic comforting smile, causing y/n to smile slightly as well.

“Well thank you… how are you holding up?” she asked in return with her signature puppy eyes. Bada tilted her head for a second, thinking about how she wanted to word her sentence.

“I think I just need to keep moving. Of course I’m upset about it, but I feel for me personally I just have to keep working… there isn’t any time to rest-” she starts and sees Y/n take a deep breath, knowing the young girl is about to reprimand her for not taking care of herself.

“But-” she continues, holding up her hands in defense, causing the girl across from her to sigh and cross her arms expectantly.

“I actually want to take the time I have and enjoy it… maybe with someone?” Bada had finished her statement with a question, hinting that she very much wanted to spend her free time with the smaller girl in front of her. Y/n matched her cheesy smile and looked over her shoulder to see her teammates staring (per usual). Kirsten and Latrice looked at each other for a second, having a silent conversation, before looking back towards the two in the doorway and nodding with a thumbs up. Y/n looked back at the tall girl in front of her and smiled brightly.

“Are you free now?” she asked, and Bada held out her hand for y/n to take, which she did. The two already grinning like lovesick idiots.

“For you I am.”

note: sorry this part took so long!! i hope everyone enjoys it- next part is gonna be the pool party episode omg yay lol

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#moth to a flame #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #bada x reader

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