#awwww he's really cute here

[kraniumet]

no. sorry. but the reincarnation thing in oshi no ko is just so incredibly stupid i can barley comprehend it

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … NANAMI KENTO & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 429k views

⁺ 🧃　 ♡ ₊﹒ ⌣

꩜: actor!nanami x actress!reader

⤷ a short compilation of y/n & nanami moments!

sfw, fluff, accidental kisses, ooc nanami kinda

. art credits to @/osusiudon on twitter

masterlists

*

౨ৎ first clip

“whereee is nanamiiii?” you whine, filming yourself as you walk around the set, trying to find your favourite cast member. you walk through a door. “nanamiii-oh there he is..”

you look surprised and then you tell the camera, “shhhh..nanami is asleep..”

you tiptoe towards where he lays passed out on a couch with his costume goggles right beside him. you turn the camera around to face nanami, his mouth agape as little snores passed through.

“awwww.. he looks so cute..”

you put the camera close to his face, making nanami look funny. “haha..i’m so keeping this-”

nanami snorts suddenly and shifts in a rapid movement, shocking you and making you drop your phone on his poor face.

“ahh!” you cry. fumbling ensues before you get your camera upright again, pointing it at a now awake, disappointed looking nanami, sitting up on the couch as he stares at you blankly. his hair is messy, tie askew and his eyes tired.

“sorry nanami…did i wake you??”

“…”

“…”

nanami sighs and rubs his eyes. “i don’t know _____. did you barge in here, record me and drop your phone on my face?”

“…oops?”

nanami stares at you some more and then you pat his head in apology.

“sorry, nanamin…”

he sighs again. “why are you like this…”

౨ৎ second clip

the paparazzi secretly filmed you and nanami exiting a store (which they had followed you both to). now of course, fans criticised said paparazzi, but after seeing the video themselves…they couldn’t be all that sad about it.

you and nanami walk out of the automatic doors, arms linked and nanami carries the shopping bag.

you’re eating your little treat, strolling with nanami to the sidewalk when he points to your shoes, noticing that your laces are undone.

he speaks and you just shrug, continuing to eat, uncaring of your unlaced shoes that are a hazard.

nanami has you hold the grocery bag temporarily and then kneels down and ties your laces securely, all the while you chew on your food and smile down at him.

he stands up and takes the bag from you to carry once more. you inaudibly talk before linking arms with him again and resting your head on his shoulder while you both walk away.

౨ৎ third clip

the director yells cut and you are immediately running towards nanami and throwing your arms around his shirtless waist, careful to avoid the very intricate, realistic body paint covering half of his body.

“nanami! please don’t dieeeee!” you cry, looking up at him, “who’s going to be my emotional support actor?”

nanami huffs and pats your back, “_____…i won’t disappear..i’ll still be on the set…”

“it’s not the same!” you grumble into his chest. “it’s like you died for real!”

“no it’s not. i’ll visit everyday until this series ends.”

“really?” you look up at him, eyes glossy, “you better not be lying. promise?”

“yes, i promise.” he sighs fondly.

“okay..”

still hugging him, you turn to look at the camera and blatantly check out his shredded torso and thick, strong arms. nanami just stands there, confused.

you rest your head on one of his pecs, looking at the camera and smiling. “i get to do this everyday, you know.”

nanami scoffs and shakes his head at you. you are unbelievable.

౨ৎ fourth clip

you and the a few members of the cast of jujutsu kaisen had agreed to play a game of “silent library”for charity and nanami had agreed to play too, which shocked both the cast and the fans considering nanami rarely participated in games like this.

nanami has struck luck so far but it runs out on the sixth round.

the cards are handed out and suspense rises when you all quickly flip them over.

you groan out loud before slapping a hand over your mouth when you see that you’ve received the death card.

looking around, you notice that nanami and gojo also share the same card, and you point at them confused, while the members who are safe sigh in relief and thank god.

nanami closes his eyes and gojo slumps in his chair dramatically, making a weak noise in his mouth. you snort. you’re quickly hushed.

the name of the game is presented, “suck and blow”, and poorly stifled chuckles ring around the room. you rub your eyes, already dreading what’s about to come.

gojo eyes you, making a come hither motion with his long finger and swear at him silently. nanami is silent and looks between the two of you blankly.

the aim of the game? all three players must pass plastic card between them with only their lips.

your head falls onto the table, gojo is grinning and nanami is, as always, sighing.

the three of you sit on stools, with yourself insisting on being in the middle.

“i could’ve sworn i’ve had a dream just like this…” gojo whispers and nanami is leaning all the way around to smack the back of his head. gojo gasps and utahime scolds at him to shut his mouth.

the plastic card is given to gojo and the timer begins. he sucks it to his lips, cheeks hollow and he looked very stupid. gojo grabs your head and presses the card to your lips, making it seem like you are both kissing. you grunt and begin smacking the side of his face. suppressed laughter can be heard around you as you forcefully pull away from gojo.

you purse your lips, holding the plastic card on them as best as you can and turning to face nanami. he leans in, ready to get this over with.

it happened so fast.

nanami’s face is close to yours as you move to transfer the plastic card to his lips..and then the card falls.

it falls and you’re kissing nanami for half a second.

you gasp and pull back, embarrassed and covering your face.

you hear a squeal, a loud gasp and shocked laughter as you drown in shame. nanami sits there, fiddling, not knowing what to do with his hands and his face is clearly pink.

gojo teases you both to no end and the timer is already up.

it’s safe to say you all lost that round.

౨ৎ fifth clip

nanami is forced to go on a talk show (as he claims his manager made him do it ).

his responses are perfect and polite - nanami clearly has some sort of media training or an upper class background of some sort. it’s like nothing could catch him off guard whatsoever.

nanami is talking and then, the host interrupts. “are you and _____ dating?”

the audience chuckles and nanami is caught off guard. “wh-what?” nanami breathes out, a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “what?”

“are you and _____ dating?”

“no…” nanami clears his throat, gulping, “no of course not…”

“what do you mean “of course not?” do you not like _____?”

“what? of course i like-” nanami cuts himself off with a deep sigh and the crowd laughs at his embarrassment and fluster. “_____…_____ is a lovely woman, she’s a respected colleague, a valued friend, she’s-”

“well since you like her so much, let’s bring her out!” the host flings his arm out in the direction of the entrance stairway, “give a warm welcome to _____!”

“?”

the crowd is screaming as you walk in, waving at them with a warm smile on your face and sit next to nanami.

nanami looks at you, face red. “i-”

“don’t let him stop you.” you say, referring to the host’s interruption and the cheers erupting from the sea of people. “keep talking about me!”

nanami sighs. “shit…”

౨ৎ sixth clip

you’re being interviewed on the red carpet by a boisterous, joyful middle aged lady who asks you many questions, one of them being, “fuck, marry, kill”.

“okay fuck, marry, kill with getou suguru, nanami kento and gojo sa-”

“easy,” you cut in, not even hearing the rest of the question, “fuck getou, marry nanami and kill gojo. easiest question i’ve had so far!”

on the other end of the carpet, nanami is being asked the same questions except with actresses, one of them being you.

“fuck marry kill - utahime iori, _____ or shoko ieiri?!”

“marry _____, fuck utahime and kill shoko. goodnight.” he abruptly walks away, not even waiting for the interviewer to respond and leaves them flabbergasted.

*

a/n: feel like i rambled a lot in this one..oh well. also i’m not accepting requests for actor!nanami right now🤗🩷

[bernardsbendystraws]

{ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁 } 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲…

fluff. no copying. tag if you use as 'inspo.' Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

You and Matt had gone on a handful of dates and even though nothing was “official,” you could both see a future in your connection. Especially when he asked to meet your dog, which you found really cute. Every time you hung out, Matt asked if you had taken any cute pictures of the fur baby, always smiling and patiently gazing on your screen as you swiped through the various photos of the fluff ball. 

Puka was your baby, you coddled her more than some parents did with their own children. She had been there for you through thick and thin, showing you the same unconditional love most dogs had for their owners, but…you were nervous. Puka was nervous, her energy always reflected your own, she knew you too well. 

An array of knocks on the door lets you know he’s here. The wagging tail and barks make your heart pound in your ears, your eyes watering from anxiety as you crack open the door, just enough to make sure it’s the same, familiar shaggy-brown hair.

And it is. 

You had her leash sat on the table by the door, but for some reason, she’s pawing through the door. She’s not even barking - she’s whimpering, trying to find her way to the chirpy voice that cheers in a soft tone, “Hi Puka, can I come in? I got you a toy!” 

He got her a toy. And treats. The two items held in his hands bring a new feeling into your chest as you let out a nervous laugh. Maybe he can just come right in?

“Come in,” you urge, letting him in and careful to shut the door quickly. The tightness in your chest only grows, why is this going so…well? 

The whimpers come to a stop as Matt kneels to the floor, his hands calmly, yet excitedly petting the soft hair, the slight bump of Puka’s excited tail hitting the floor echoing with his sweet praises. 

“Awwww, you just wanna be pet, huh?” Matt coos, setting each item to the floor. She doesn’t even want the crinkling bag of treats - she wants him. 

And it’s odd. 

It’s very, very odd. 

Not only did Puka typically shield herself from men, she’d usually nip - a behavior she picked up on due to your ex boyfriend, she just couldn’t help but be protective over you. But this? This is nothing like you imagined, it’s nothing like you expected. It’s everything you could’ve wanted and more. 

“I thought you said she was a bit aggressive?” Matt jokes. 

You let a puff escape through your lips, “Well.” Gesturing down to Puka, you’re amazed as she starts to calm down from the excitement, her belly still in view as she remains on her back. She’s more than content, and honestly…so are you. 

“Just a sweetheart like your mama, hm?” he says, leaning down as he gets closer to her face. Your heart stops as you see her jolt her face upward. But…instead of teeth clamping onto his nose, it’s a bunch of kisses, the licks she’d usually give you when trying to catch your tears. 

There’s a feeling growing in your stomach. It makes you nervous, but…but in a good way - the type of unfamiliar that brings you hope. And you know it’s stupid, but the little ball of fur that’s always been so intent on protecting you and giving you the purest love…she’s approved of him, solely based on his energy when he walked up to the door. 

It makes you nervous how delighted you feel. Excitement pulses through your spine as you sit up a little bit straighter, leaning onto Matt just the slightest. “She really likes you,” you remark. 

His hands don’t stop playing with her ears, he simply looks over to you with an innocent smile on his face. There’s a double-meaning in the next words that spill from his lips, the sentence creating a perfect chaos of new-found emotions;

“I’m glad. I really, really like her too.”

[lexalith]

FRIENDS || Choi Su-Bong (Thanos)

summary: after late-night sexting with your best friend, everything changes. the bond you thought was purely platonic starts to feel deeper. were these feelings always there, hidden beneath the surface? or did something just… click? is this the start of something real, or the beginning of a mistake that could ruin everything?

warnings: aged up female reader (they’re both in their late twenties) (MDNI), smut (masturbation, fingering, public sex, p in v, oral sex (f and m), sexting, edging, praising, unprotected sex (don’t be silly)) semi and minsu are victims of the reader’s and subong’s freakiness, angst (name calling, miscommunication, pushing, throwing things, lying, deception, fear of commitment, reader refuses to help him at some point, slapping, slutshame remarks), overuse of the words ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’ (lmaoo), subong should be a warning himself, fwb dynamic, reader uses someone to forget subong, drug use and addiction.

a/n: i’ve never ever written anything here on tumblr before, so i don’t really know what i’m doing, help. also, english isn’t my first language, so mistakes should be present!! lowercase is intentional. this is an au with no games. text messages are in different colors (orange for the reader, purple for subong). the reader’s dialogue is in bold. mind you, this is LOOOONG (it’s a whole fic)

songs that inspired me to write this: friends — chase atlantic || back to friends — sombr || heartbeat — childish gambino || casual — chappell roan

this fic was also inspired by @jedisupernova ‘s writing, check out her page and fics!!! (they’re soooo good)

you’re still thinking about what that guy said. it wasn’t even a big deal, not really. just some random jerk at the club who’d had a few too many drinks and decided to share his unfiltered thoughts about your body. “you’re not really my type,” he’d said, like you’d asked. then he’d laughed and added, “not many guys would go for that.”

it shouldn’t bother you. you know it shouldn’t. but now, a few nights later, it’s stuck in your head, looping like a song you can’t turn off. so, lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly, you do what you always do when something’s bugging you—you text him. your best friend.

subong. are you awake?

yes ma’am. why?

i got a random question. but like, it’s not that deep

???

do you think i’m attractive?

you fire it off without overthinking, like it’s no big deal. it’s not weird to ask your best friend something like this. right?

it takes him a few minutes to reply.

what kind of question is that?

just answer

i’m too high for this shit, bro

you’re not high🙄 liar

i wish i were

omfg can you just say yes or no? please? but be honest, i promise i won’t get mad

yeah, i think u are

really?

sure thinggg, u’re hot mama

dude quit playing, i’m being serious over here

i’m not fucking playing

okay you think i’m attractive but like… what kind of attractive? cute attractive? like awwww. or i’d-fuck-you-raw attractive?

what are we even talking about

why can’t you just answer?😭

what is this for?

for my knowledge

tf is that supposed to mean?

you stare at the screen, mentally deciding whether you should tell him about what happened or not. you hadn’t told him before, not wanting to give it more attention. but this time, you decide to.

ugh, remember i went clubbing the other day? well this dude was being an asshole to me and he said some stuff and i can’t stop thinking about it so just be fucking honest and answer my question

some stuff? what stuff?

he said, and i quote ‘not many guys would go for that’. ‘that’ is me, btw💀

who tf is this dude?

bruh idk, some random guy, it doesn’t matter

it does?

are you gonna answer my question or no?

yeah. i think u r both kinds.

good, good, you think to yourself. his reply makes you relax a little, the knot in your stomach loosening. he thinks you’re attractive. of course he does—he’s your best friend, and best friends are supposed to hype you up.

for a moment, you stare at your phone, chewing on your bottom lip. you know you should leave it there, let it go. but something keeps tugging at you.

so, hypothetically, would you… yk, with me?

the second you hit send, panic sets in. your pulse skyrockets, and you almost want to throw your phone across the room. why did you do that? why couldn’t you just shut up? but you don’t have time to spiral, because the dots appear almost immediately.

are u serious?

and you freeze. your fingers hover over the screen, but you can’t bring yourself to type anything back. what kind of answer is that?

alr, imma be honest. yeah i would

your heart stops. you blink at the message, reading it again and again, like the words might change if you look long enough. you weren’t prepared for this.

subong’s typing…

would u? with me?

you want to lie, to brush it off, but your fingers move before your brain can stop them.

maybe

the dots pop up again. then disappear. then pop up again.

maybe?? that means yes. cmon i’m hot as hell, baby, u know it. u’ve probably touched yourself thinking about me at least once

wtf bro you’re giving me the biggest ick rn 💀

but have u?

and you? i bet you jerk off to my insta photos, perv. don’t even start lmaoo

can’t help it when u look that good💯

you stare at his message, your mind scrambling to process it. you feel your breath catch in your throat. the shock should be overwhelming, but instead, you feel a strange warmth spread through you.

you didn’t expect this. the idea that he’s been thinking about you like that… it sends a shiver down your spine. you should probably tell him to stop, tell him it’s too much, but instead, you feel yourself leaning in, pulled toward this conversation in a way you didn’t think you would be.

i may or may not have done the same with your insta pics

i knew itttt señorita 🙏🏼

shut up

how many times?

why do you wanna know?🤨

i answered ur stupid ass questions, now u answer mine

maybe like idk, two?

no fucking way, just two????????

you think it’s not enough or what???? how many times have you done it?

more than u wanna know

how bad are we talking?

so bad i’ve lost count. u really want me to get into details?

maybe i do

bro, let’s just say that everytime u post i’m over here fighting a battle

you do realize i’m your bestfriend right?

yeah, so?

so aren’t there any girls to jerk off to instead of me???

yeah but they don’t make me as hard

you stare at the screen, your heart pounding, your legs squeezing together instinctively. what the hell is happening right now? and then another message comes through.

even saying this shit is getting me worked up

what???😭 you’re hard??

yeah bro, what's a guy supposed to do when his best friend asks if he would fuck her?

it was hypothetical

hypothetically speaking, if a guy was attracted to his best friend, he'd probably be rock fucking hard right now. so yeah, i'm fucking hard, girl

your stomach flips at the bluntness of his words. you can feel the blood rushing to your face as you stare at the message.

too much info, subong

nahhh, u asked. u wanted details, so here they are

okay… should i leave you to it?

fuck no

damn alr, suffer then🙄

could u help me out?

help you out?????????????

with a pic of u or smth

boy whatttttttttt

what?

i’m not sending you fucking nudes wtf 💀💀

no one asked for that, stupid. just a pic of u

just a pic of you. the request feels so simple. he’s your bestfriend—it’s not that big of a deal, right? especially after everything you’ve both just confessed to each other.

your eyes flick toward the mirror in your room. you’re in your pajamas. no bra. you know how it looks. it’s the kind of thing you wouldn’t think twice about wearing around him in person, but now, with this conversation, it feels different. your legs carry you to the mirror almost on autopilot. you pick up your phone and angle it toward your reflection. you shouldn’t even be entertaining this. but instead, you snap the picture. you stare at it for a moment, biting your lip. it’s not explicit—it’s just you. but still… you know exactly how he’ll see it.

your thumb hovers over the send button, hesitation gripping you. a hundred reasons not to do this race through your head, but one single thought drowns them all out: you want to know how he’ll react. before you can second-guess yourself, you hit send. the moment it delivers, your stomach drops, a mix of adrenaline and regret washing over you. you sit down on the edge of your bed, staring at the screen, waiting for his response, your heart pounding louder with every passing second.

hoooooooooly shitttttttttt

it’s just a pic

yeah, a pic of u looking like that

im just in my pajamas

and i’m hornier now, if that’s even possible

subong you can’t just say stuff like that

why not? we always tell each other everything

i should’ve thrown on a hoodie

i’d still be thinking of what’s underneath

well, glad i could help your horny ass🫡 enjoy or whatever

subong’s typing…

subong’s online

subong’s typing…

subong’s online

you watch the dots—flickering like they're mocking you. you can't help but wonder what he's typing—or if he's second-guessing whatever bold thing he's about to say. but then, they disappear. nothing. you frown, staring at the screen, waiting a few more seconds. still nothing. you realize exactly what he's probably doing. you bite your lip, heat creeping up your neck as the image forms in your mind: him, sitting there, hand wrapped around his dick, staring at the picture you sent.

you feel like you need to do something—anything—to distract yourself. you toss your phone onto the bed and reach for the remote, flipping on a random tv show. you let the noise fill the silence, but your mind keeps drifting back to him. it's a few minutes later when your phone dings. the sound cuts through the room like a knife, and you hesitate for a moment, staring at the screen, before finally reaching for it.

it's him. he sent a picture.

these are my pajamas. now we’re even, baby

him, standing in front of the mirror, shirtless and wearing only a pair of tight black briefs. the way he's posing is so over the top... he's trying way too hard. his expression is almost comical, like he's not really sure if he's pulling it off but is hoping you'll think he is. you can't help it—you stifle a laugh. but then your eyes drop, and that laughter dies in your throat. the bulge is so obvious, pushing against the fabric in a way that's impossible to ignore. it's not just visible, it's big. big enough that your pulse spikes, and you forget to breathe for a second. that laughter you were holding back? gone. you glance back at his goofy grin in the mirror, but it's no longer funny. shit. you’re wet.

you don't even know how it happens. one moment, you're staring at his picture, then a teasing comment here, a bold reply there—and before you know it, you're lying on your bed, your phone clutched in one hand and your other slipping between your thighs, pressed against the growing ache he's stoked with every message. you've never gone this far with him before—always ignoring his obvious flirting. but you can’t stop now. and he isn’t shy about it either, telling you with detail everything he would do to you.

u'd look soooo fucking good begging under me, baby

and what if i don’t?

then i'd make u

mhmmm, how?

fuck, i’d bury my face between those thighs and eat u out until u can’t take it anymore

a soft gasp escapes your lips as you read, your body reacting to the vivid images his words paint in your mind. you know you shouldn't be doing this—not with him—but the way he's describing everything makes you forget about all the reasons why. you’re far past the point of feeling shy too. you bite your lip, barely believing yourself as you hit send.

i wish you could feel how wet i am just thinking about you fucking me from behind

god damn girl, i’d stretch that pussy so good my dick is the only thing u’d think about for weeks

and then, it's not just texting anymore—you're sending pictures, even though you swore you wouldn't. the first one is a close-up of your fingers, glistening with your juices. his reply comes almost instantly, not as a text but as a voice message. “shit, baby, you're f-fucking killing me... mhmm... look at that. you're so fucking wet f’me, I can almost taste it through the screen... fuck...” his voice is low and rough, broken by soft, shaky breaths. you can hear him stroking himself, moans slipping out between words. you're losing your damn mind over it, replaying the voice message again and again—fingers curling inside of you as you push them in and out, wishing it were his fingers instead of yours.

he sends a pic too. this time, he leaves nothing to the imagination. it’s a selfie, his face barely visible at the corner. the center of attention is his hard dick, hand wrapped around it, tip leaking precum. and the only thing that comes to your mind right there and then is just how badly you want to take him in your mouth.

one picture leads to another, the messages growing dirtier with every exchange. his words are filthy, his photos even filthier, and the way he talks about your body—what he'd do to it, what he's imagining—fucking hell. your breathing quickens, your body burning with need, and before you know it, that familiar tension starts to coil low in your stomach.

shit, subong… i’m close

u’re gonna cum for me? cmon pretty girl, let me hear you

you hit record just as your orgasm crashes over you, moaning his name loudly as you cum on your fingers. after a few minutes, he sends a voice message back “you sound so fucking good… shit, look what you’ve done t-to me… mmm… fuck, fuck, fuck… i’m gonna cum thinking about fucking you, baby. i’m gonna cum thinking about you making those… s-sounds while i fucking pound into you.”

the next few days are a blur. he hasn’t texted, and you haven’t either. but no matter what you do, you can’t stop thinking about what happened. no matter how hard you try to shake it off, it’s there. his voice, the way he sounded saying your name, the damn nudes, the way your heart raced as you typed those things to him.

you don’t know how to feel about it. on one hand, you can’t deny how much you wanted it in the moment. but now? now you’re not sure. did you cross a line? did he? part of you regrets it, wishes you could just rewind and stop yourself before things spiraled. but another part—one you’re trying to ignore—remembers how good it felt, how right it seemed in the moment.

and then there’s the friendship. years of it. he’s been your best friend for a few years now. he knows things about you no one else does and he’s seen you at your absolute worst. like that night you showed up at his door after a horrible breakup. mascara streaked down your cheeks, and he didn’t say a word—just handed you a blanket, put on your favorite movie, and sat there with you until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

but it wasn’t always serious. like the time he tried rapping one of his freestyles for you, all cocky, and you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe. or like the time you tripped over absolutely nothing at the mall, and he laughed so hard he cried, then spent weeks reenacting it whenever you were around. or when he clogged your toilet and tried to fix it himself instead of just telling you. or when he picked a fight with some guy at a club because the guy bumped into you and didn’t apologize. he got all puffed up and said, “you got a problem, man?” like he was some kind of action movie hero. but the guy was huge, like, rugby player huge, and before you could drag subong away, he swung and missed, and the dude took him down in one hit. he spent the rest of the night with a bloody nose and ice pressed to his face, grumbling, “he got lucky.” you still remind him of how he ‘lost a fight in one punch,’ and it always makes him groan.

you’ve got a thousand stupid inside jokes that no one else would understand, like how you always text each other ‘don’t die’ instead of ‘goodnight’ because of some dumb horror movie you watched together. or the fact that he nicknamed you ‘señorita’ when you said you wanted to visit spain one day.

he’s a walking disaster, an endless source of secondhand embarrassment, and somehow, that’s what makes subong… subong. being around him has always felt easy, like slipping into your favorite hoodie—comfortable, familiar, safe.

but friends don’t do… that. what if it’s never the same again? you’ve always been comfortable with him, never overthinking what you said or did around him. now, you can’t imagine looking him in the eye without thinking about what you two did together. you keep telling yourself that things will go back to normal, but deep down, you’re scared they won’t. because you’re not sure you can go back—not after knowing what it felt like to be wanted by him in that way. not after letting yourself want him back.

one day, out of the blue, he texts you like nothing happened. just casually, like you didn't have your hand between your thighs while listening to him moan your name a few nights ago.

yoooo, wanna hop on call and play videogames? i’m bored

at first, you stare at the text, because... what does this mean? is this his way of brushing it under the rug? of pretending nothing ever happened? still, you say yes. because what else can you do? you hop into the call, and there he is—joking, laughing, completely normal. like the two of you didn't cross every possible line. he's so good at acting like nothing's changed, it almost convinces you. you match his energy, responding with the same casual ease. maybe this is fine. maybe you're fine.

then the group chat lights up a few days later: a cinema meet-up. everyone's throwing out ideas for what movie to watch, talking about snacks, debating over showtimes. he's there, throwing in jokes about popcorn sizes and his infamous sweet tooth, and you're sitting there trying to decide if you can handle seeing him face to face. you hesitate, debating if you should just make up an excuse not to go. but then he replies to the chat, tagging you specifically.

u better be there señorita

i will🙃

the day arrives faster than you’d like, and before you know it, you’re standing outside the cinema, stomach flipping as you spot namgyu, minsu, gyeongsu, and semi waving at you. you force a smile and walk over, doing your best to focus on their chatter and ignore the nerves crawling up your spine. but then you see him—subong, leaning against the wall, vape in hand. and when his eyes land on you, he smirks. he knows damn well. he knows exactly what you’re thinking, and he’s not going to make this easy for you. “finally,” he says when you’re close enough. “i was starting to doubt you’d come.” “why wouldn’t i?” you reply. he shrugs, taking a puff from his vape “thought you might’ve had better things to do.” the way he says it feels loaded, but he doesn’t give you time to respond, turning his attention to namgyu instead.

when it’s time to head into the cinema, you try to position yourself far from him, making a beeline for a seat between minsu and semi. you settle in, thinking you’re safe, but of course, subong has other plans. “yo, minsu, my boy,” he says as he walks down the aisle, stopping directly in front of you. “mind scooting over? i’ll sit here.” “uh, sure,” minsu says, shifting down without hesitation. you open your mouth to object, but before you can say anything, subong is sliding into the seat next to you, drink in one hand and a bag of popcorn in the other. “hope you don’t mind,” he murmurs, leaning a little closer than necessary. you grit your teeth, keeping your gaze locked on the screen as the previews start. “not at all,” you mutter under your breath.

you think that’s it. but, of course, it doesn’t end there. he shifts in his seat, his arm brushing against yours every now and then, like he’s waiting for you to react. you swear you catch him smirking out of the corner of your eye multiple times. you try to focus on the movie, but it’s impossible when his presence is so loud. every little movement, every tiny glance, has your nerves on edge. and he knows it.

then, you feel it. his hand—light at first— rests on your bare thigh, the heat of his palm sending a jolt through you. you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. what the hell is he doing? his fingers trace a soft line along your skin, caressing just above your knee. you stay still, unsure of what to do, but your body betrays you, not pulling away.

his touch grows bolder, creeping higher up your leg, slipping under your skirt. you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. he's still watching the movie, acting like nothing is happening, like his hand isn't inches away from your clothed pussy. “what are you doing?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. he turns his head toward you, looking innocent, like he's just minding his own business. “nothing.” “subong—” “i'll stop if you want me to.” you don't answer, torn between wanting to push him away and not wanting him to stop at all. “do you want me to stop? be honest,” he says, still waiting for your response. “no,” you reply, looking away with embarrassment. he chuckles softly—hand rubbing the inside of your thigh.

you drape the thin jacket you brought over your legs, a flimsy attempt to shield his hand from semi’s view. every nerve in your body screams that you shouldn’t be letting this happen, but you don’t stop him. he spreads your legs with his hand for better access, and soon you feel two of his fingers pressing against your clit over the fabric of your panties. your breath hitches, and you try not to move—not even a sound escapes you—but your lips part at the feeling of his touch. he moves them slow—too slow—in a way that has you shifting against him, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for more. and he gives it to you. his hand slips beneath your soaked underwear, and a low chuckle leaves him when he feels just how wet you are.

subong knows what he is doing. he rubs your clit in circles, gently but with enough pressure to have you biting your bottom lip. and god, his fingers feel so much better than you ever imagined. when he quickens the pace, a soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth, pretending to be focused on the screen. but the rapid rise and fall of your chest betrays your so-called calm. before you can collect yourself, semi leans in. “are you okay?” “mhm,” you nod quickly, forcing a smile. “yeah, don't worry, i—” your words falter when his fingers move faster. you bite your lip, trying to hold it together, but he's clearly enjoying watching you struggle. “i-i'm fine,” you manage to stutter. semi raises an eyebrow. “you sure?” “yeah,” you nod. “alright,” semi says before shrugging and turning her attention back to the screen.

you let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through you. your head snaps toward subong, eyes narrowing in a glare that’s meant to convey exactly how ridiculous he’s being right now. you dig your nails into his wrist, “are you crazy?” but he only pauses for a second, leaning in close enough to whisper, “relax, girl. no one noticed.” the audacity of him sends heat rushing to your face. but he doesn’t back down, his fingers resuming their slow, torturous movements. and just as you’re about to reach your orgasm… he stops. your body jerks in frustration, and you whip your head toward him, confused. his smirk only deepens as he pulls his hand from under your skirt, bringing his fingers to his lips and licking them clean. “what the fuck?” you whisper, a soft groan escaping at the loss of his touch. “what?” he whispers back, feigning innocence. “you know what.” “i don't. you'll have to spell it out for me.” “subong—” “tell me what you want.” the frustration wells up in your chest. to him, this is probably hilarious—you being so desperate. but for you? it's humiliating. pathetic. begging your best friend for something like this. still, the need outweighs your pride. you lean in, your lips almost brushing his ear, “i wanna... i wanna cum. please, make me cum.” “yeah? be fucking quiet, then.”

his fingers slip back under your skirt. your breath catches, and you press your lips together, your body already trembling from how close you were before—gripping the armrest, barely able to keep still. every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire, and when his fingers circle just right, you're done. the release hits hard, and you muffle your moans by biting down on your lip so hard it stings.

the days after are... strange. again. no texting, no acknowledgment, no teasing, nothing. it's like it never happened. and when he does text again, it's so casual it throws you off. he sends a random picture, a meme he has found on instagram.

this shit is so funny bro loooololol

i fear your humor is broken😐

naahhh u just don’t get ittt babyy

you reply like everything's fine because, well, isn't it? you don’t even know at this point.

another day, he messages the group chat:

pentagon this weekend?🔥

the replies come fast. namgyu’s working that night. semi has plans with her girlfriend. gyeongsu says he’s too exhausted for it. minsu doesn’t even reply. everyone has an excuse, and eventually, the chat goes dead. then, a private message from subong popps up.

wbu? still down to go?

you and subong had gone clubbing together hundreds of times. hell, most nights it was just the two of you, dancing until your legs gave out, taking blurry selfies, and laughing over cheap drinks. it was normal. so, you type:

yeah, sureee

bet. see u saturday, señorita

when the night comes, your phone buzzes as you’re double-checking your look in the mirror.

outside

outsideeee

outsideeeeeeeee

hellooooooooooooooooooo

one minute, let me grab my jacket

i’m freezing man

one minute my ass

patience is a virtue ❤️

cmooooooooon

u knitting the jacket or what

girl i just hit retirement age waiting for u

you’re so dramatic

and u r so slow, balance baby

you grab your jacket and head out, the bass from his car already thudding through the air when you step outside. you see him leaning against the passenger door, dressed in his usual baggy style—a loose graphic tee, cargo pants, and sneakers that probably cost more than your entire outfit (the only damn thing he saves up for…)—vape dangling lazily from his fingers. when he sees you, his eyes trail over you for a second too long. “you’re overdressed,” he teases with a smile. “you’re underdressed,” you shoot back.

the drive to club pentagon is easy, filled with a mix of rap tracks and subong’s singing. when you finally pull up, the line’s already stretching down the block, but subong doesn’t even blink. “namgyu’s working, right?” he asks, sliding out of the car. you nod. “yeah, he’ll let us in.” inside, the music is already pulsing, bass heavy enough to shake the floors. subong grabs your wrist. “drinks first?” “obviously,” you answer. you follow subong to the bar, the pounding music buzzing in your ears. “what are we starting with?” he asks, leaning against the bar. “shots,” you say, already reaching into your bag. he raises an eyebrow. “you’re paying?” “you’re broke,” you remind him, rolling your eyes before ordering four shots of tequila. when the glasses arrive, he grabs two and hands you one. “guess i’ll owe you,” he says, clinking his glass against yours. “you already do,” you reply, downing the first shot without hesitation. the familiar burn of tequila trails down your throat, and you chase it with a quick breath.

you can feel his eyes on you as you throw back the second shot. you don’t meet his gaze, but you can feel it—the weight of it, the way it makes your stomach flutter. shaking it off, you slam your glass on the counter and signal for one more round. “last one,” you say, mostly to yourself, pulling out more cash. he doesn’t argue, just picks up his shot, watching you as you pick up yours. you both toss back the final shot, and the alcohol is just enough to loosen the knot in your chest. but the way his gaze lingers as he sets his glass down makes it tighten again. “dancing?” you ask. he nods. you push through the crowd till you find a spot on the dance floor. the techno track thuds through your chest as you sway to the rhythm. subong moves with you, not particularly in sync with the beat, but in his own way that somehow works. every now and then, his eyes catch yours, and you have to force yourself to look away.

the music builds, and you let yourself get lost in it, the alcohol buzzing through your veins and the tension from earlier slowly dissolving into the haze of the moment. after a while, he stops moving and pulls his phone from his pocket. you glance at him, curious, as he squints at the screen. whatever he sees makes him smile faintly before he shoves the phone back into his pocket. “i need to hit the bathroom!” he says, leaning close so you can hear. you blink at him, confused. “right now?” he nods, gesturing for you to follow. you don’t argue—it’s not exactly safe to hang around the dance floor by yourself. reluctantly, you let him lead you off the floor.

he disappears into the men’s room, leaving you standing against the wall, arms crossed. you tap your foot, watching drunk strangers stumble past. a few minutes later, the door swings open, and subong walks out, a small smirk playing on his lips. “what took you so long?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. instead of answering, he holds up a small plastic bag between his fingers. your stomach flips when you see the little colorful pills inside. “what the hell is that?” you ask, but you already know. he grins, tilting his head. “new stuff.” your brows furrow. “what?” “my plug got these,” he says, holding up the bag slightly. “said they hit different. figured i’d try.” he slides one pill between his fingers, studying it like it’s no big deal. then he brings it to his mouth, about to toss it back. “wait,” you say, grabbing his wrist. he scoffs. “what? you want it instead?” you glare at him. “no, subong. what are you even doing? you don’t need that!” he rolls his eyes, freeing his wrist from your grip. “come on, it’s nothing. we’ve had worse.” “worse?” you scoff. “you’re really gonna compare getting blackout drunk and smoking pot to this?” “you’re fucking overthinking it. it’s just one pill. just tonight. trust me.” he says.

you glance at the bag again, at the little pills that seem so harmless yet scream bad idea. “subong…” you start, but your voice trails off. “look,” he cuts in, his voice softer now. “we’re having a good fucking time, yeah? it’ll be just this once, okay? i promise.” “okay,” you say suddenly, lifting your chin. “but if you do one, i’ll do one.” his smirk falters for half a second. “no.” you frown. “what do you mean, no?” “i mean no. you’re not taking one.” “but you can?” you challenge, crossing your arms.“yeah.” you scoff. “that’s bullshit.” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “this isn’t your thing, señorita.” “since when it’s yours?” you snap. “if you’re gonna do it, then so am i.”

he looks at you, really looks at you. then, with an exasperated groan, he reaches into the bag. “fucking stubborn,” he mutters, pulling out another pill. “just this once.” he holds it delicately between his fingers before stepping closer. “open up,” he says, his voice dropping a notch. you hesitate for a second but eventually part your lips, sticking out your tongue. he places the pill gently on it. “there you go,” he says, stepping back and popping his own pill. you swallow it quickly, trying not to think about what you’ve just decided to do.

you move back onto the dance floor, the pill's effects creeping in like a warm wave washing over you. the flashing lights seem brighter now and everything blurs together—colors, sounds, the heat of the crowd—but it feels good. better than it should. your limbs feel lighter, like you're floating, and the energy buzzing inside you pushes you to move. subong is right there beside you, dancing with his hand raised, and you can't stop staring at him. his messy hair sticks to his forehead, sweat glistening on his tanned skin.

before you know it, your arms are around his neck, pulling him in like it’s the only thing keeping you steady. his eyes burn into yours for half a second, like he’s daring you to close the distance. then his hands are on your waist, rough fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and he drags you closer until you’re pressed against him. the music is pounding, but it feels distant—like the only rhythm you can hear now is the way your bodies move together, hips rolling in time, every brush of his skin against yours making you burn.

his breath fans across your lips, hot and tasting of tequila and something bitter—maybe the pill he took earlier—and it makes your head spin. then your mouth crashes into his. there’s nothing soft about it. it’s messy and sloppy, urgent—like you’re both too far gone to think about anything but this. his lips part against yours immediately, and your tongues meet in a dizzying clash of heat and need. his hands slide up your back, fingers threading into your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

you tilt your head, chasing the kiss even deeper. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth against your bottom lip, a bite that makes you whimper before he soothes it with his tongue. the sound you make pushes him further—he groans into your mouth, his other hand gripping your jaw, tilting your face exactly how he wants it.

you’re not sure where the desperation is coming from, but it feels like if he stops touching you, you’ll shatter. your fingers clutch at his shirt, twisting the fabric as you grind just a little closer, a little harder. he’s breathing just as heavy as you are, lips red and swollen from kissing you like he never wants to stop.

you’ve kissed people before but nothing’s ever felt like this. nothing’s ever felt this fucking good. the two of you stumble out of the club. your legs feel like jelly as you hold onto subong, and his arm wraps around your waist to steady you. his car is parked a few streets over, tucked away in a dark, hidden corner under some trees. “thank god for this spot,” he mutters as he unlocks the doors.

you barely make it into the backseat before he’s on you again—his lips crashing into yours like he’s been waiting for this forever. his hands are all over you, rough and desperate, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. but you’re not going anywhere. his fingers dig into your thighs as he pulls you into his lap, and the second you straddle him, you feel it—hard and thick, pressing right against the heat between your legs. a soft gasp slips out of you, but he swallows it with another kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. fuck, he’s good.

your hands tangle in his hair, pulling as your hips start to move, grinding down on him. his grip tightens immediately, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he guides your movements, rocking you against him harder. the friction creates a delicious, aching pressure that makes you whimper against his lips. “fuck,” he breathes, breaking the kiss just long enough to let his head fall back against the seat. his fingers squeeze your ass, dragging you down against him rougher. “keep doing that.” so you do. you roll your hips, slow at first, letting yourself feel everything. you’re already soaked, already throbbing for more, and from the way his hands are gripping you, the way his breathing is getting heavier, you know he feels it too. “i need to eat you out,” he says, trailing kisses down your neck. “want you to cum on my tongue.” you do exactly what he wants—legs spread wide, thighs trembling as his head dips between them. his breath is hot against your soaked pussy, teasing, before his tongue finally makes contact—slow at first, a long, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit that makes your whole body jolt.

you gasp at the feeling, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard, but it only makes him groan against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure straight through you. he doesn’t hold back. he devours you, eating you out like a man starved, his tongue flicking against your clit before he sucks it into his mouth. and when two of his fingers slip inside you, curling deep, pressing against that perfect spot, you swear you see stars. “you taste so fucking good,” he groans against you, his lips slick with your arousal before he flattens his tongue and laps up every drop. the way he’s working you—his mouth, his fingers, the filthy sounds coming from between your legs—it’s too much, too good, and your whole body is trembling, hips rolling against his face, chasing more. “shit—subong!” your voice breaks as the pleasure crashes over you all at once. your thighs clamp around his head, your body arching off the seat as you cum hard against his mouth. but he doesn’t stop—his tongue keeps moving, drinking you in, dragging out your release until you’re shaking.

when he comes back up to kiss you—chin shining with the evidence of your release— your hand instinctively moves to rub him through his pants, the hard outline of his dick impossible to miss. he hisses at the contact, his hips bucking eagerly against your touch. “you got a condom?” you ask. he pauses. “yeah, hold on.” reluctantly, he pulls away and starts patting his pockets. his brows furrow in concentration as he checks one side, then the other. finally, with a relieved grin, he pulls a condom out and holds it up. “got it,” he says before kissing the wrapper, making you chuckle.

he looks so fucking hot as he rolls the condom onto his cock, his chest rising and falling with anticipation. but nothing gets him off more than watching you climb back onto his lap, your soaked folds teasing the head of his dick as you line yourself up. his breath stutters, his hands gripping your thighs, barely holding himself back. “fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, voice tight with restraint. then, slowly you sink down onto him. inch by inch, he stretches you open, filling you up until there’s no space left between your bodies. “shit,” he hisses, watching as your slick coats him, making every movement easy, effortless—like your body was made to take him. and when you start moving, lifting your hips before sliding back down, a broken moan escapes his lips. “fuck, baby,” he breathes, hands roaming up your back, gripping your ass, anything to ground himself as you ride him. “you feel so f-fucking good—look at you, taking me so… mmm… so fucking well.” his voice is needy, and when you slam down harder, his hips jerk up to meet yours, pushing even deeper. “oh my—fuck, subong!” you cry out, your walls clenching around him so tight it makes his whole body tense beneath you.

he almost fucking loses it the second he feels you clench around him, his face twisting in pleasure, jaw going slack. his hands grip your hips, guiding you—faster, rougher—eyes locked on where your bodies meet, watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again. he forces himself to meet your gaze, even though his eyes keep threatening to roll back. “fuck, if i’d known how fucking good this pussy is… i would’ve f-fucked you sooner.” he moans as you move faster, bouncing on his cock—every thrust making obscene, slick sounds that only turn him on more. his eyes drop to your tits, bouncing perfectly in time with your movements, and fuck, he can’t decide what he wants more—to keep watching you ride him like this or to flip you over and ruin you.

but then you tighten around him, your rhythm stuttering as you throw your head back, moaning so loud he swears the whole damn neighborhood can hear you. “fuck— i’m gonna—! i-i’m gonna cum!” you cry out, your whole body trembling, thighs shaking as you cum around his cock. and that’s it. that’s all it takes to break him. “shit—ngh!” his body jerks beneath you, his abs tensing as he spills into the condom, his head falling back, mouth open.

his hands are still gripping you, holding you down against him as he rides out every last pulse of his release, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. and fuck—you’re still wrapped around him, warm and wet and perfect. you end up laughing for a solid twenty minutes after that, still too high to fully process what the fuck just happened between you two. but even in your haze, every single detail stays with you the next day.

fucking your best friend while high as fuck one night might’ve been an accident. but then it happens again. and again. and again. and you can’t call it an accident anymore.

it happens everywhere.

in his car, where the windows are always fogged up, your moans echoing in the tight space. in your apartment, where he barely gets the door shut before he’s got you pinned against it, hands rough and greedy, yanking your clothes off like he’s been waiting all fucking day for this. sometimes he doesn’t even make it past the kitchen—he just lifts you onto the counter, knocking over whatever’s in his way, too impatient to care as his mouth moves down your neck. in his bed, where the sheets are always a mess, tangled from how hard he fucks you into the mattress, his hands gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head. even in a club bathroom, right after he gives a show, still high off the energy, sweat dripping down his temple. you’re barely inside before he’s got you bent over the sink, hiking your dress up, shoving your panties to the side, fucking into you so deep you have to bite your hand to keep from screaming his name.

wherever. the second you’re alone, it’s happening. it becomes a thing. a need.

you always figured subong would fuck good. he never shut up about the girls he’s been with, the shit he’s done, bragging like he was the best lay any of them ever had. and every time he talked about it, you’d feel heat pool between your thighs, wondering if he was really that good or just full of shit.

now you knew. and fuck, he wasn’t lying.

he’s rough and passionate—the kind of lover who takes without hesitation but gives just as much, maybe even more. he loves watching you squirm, loves the way your body responds to him like it was made for this. like it needs this. his fingers trail down your skin, barely touching, making you shiver before he finally gives you what you want. and fuck, he lives for it—the way you gasp when he finally presses his mouth between your legs, the way your back arches when he fills you up, stretching you wide, making you take every inch.

some days, he drags it out, torturing you with slow touches, lazy kisses, making you beg before he finally gives in. he’ll tease you until you’re trembling, hands gripping at him desperately, “please, subong… need you so bad.” and then, maybe then, he’ll give you what you’re begging for. other days? he doesn’t bother waiting. before you can say a word, he’s got you pinned to the mattress, yanking your legs apart, pressing himself against you, making you feel just how hard he is. “been thinking about this all fucking day.” then he’s inside you, fucking you like he’s been starving for it.

it’s been months now—this thing between you and subong. but you don’t talk about it. not once. there’s no late-night confessions, no whispered ‘what are we?’ between tangled sheets. he doesn’t ask who else you’re seeing, and you sure as hell don’t ask him. but the uncertainty lingers. because he’s still your best friend. you still laugh at his dumb ass jokes, roll your eyes when he’s being his cocky self, and feel that weird, warm twist in your stomach when you catch him watching you from across the room.

and yet, there are a bunch of little things that scream something more. like that time you sat on his rumpled bed while he was writing a song, and you helped him hammer out stupid-ass verses—even when he swore they’d never work. you teased him for his cheesy lines and then watched his face light up like he’d just discovered a new fucking world. hell, he even calls you his muse sometimes, and you hate how damn proud that makes you feel.

or that stormy night. the rain was lashing against the windows, and you two were locked in his tiny studio apartment. one minute you were laughing, taking silly pictures of him with a digital camera while he smoked, and the next, he had your face pressed against the wooden table as he fucked you from behind—your ass cheeks burning from his vigorous spanking. after, he pulled you close, running his fingers through your hair as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

that one night he showed up at your door at 2 a.m., high off his ass, slurring your name with that cocky grin, his knuckles tapping too fast against the wood. “couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, leaning against the doorframe. “fucking missed you.” you should’ve told him to fuck off, should’ve rolled your eyes and slammed the door in his face because he promised he wouldn’t do that shit again. instead, you let him in, let him collapse onto your bed with a heavy sigh, pulling you down with him. his arms caged you in, the scent of his cheap cologne filling your senses.

then there was the time you caught him staring at you while you were getting ready. you were fixing your hair in his mirror, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt, and when you turned around, he was just standing there—arms crossed. “what?” you asked, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. he just shook his head, smirking a little. “nothing,” he said. “you just—you look good in my clothes, mama.”

and when you called him crying after a shitty day at work, voice shaking so bad he could barely understand you. you didn’t even have to ask—he just showed up, no questions. drove way too fucking fast to get to you, and pulled you into his chest so tight it felt like he was trying to hold you together. “who do i need to punch?” he asked, half-joking, half-dead serious. and you laughed, even through your tears, because that was him—always trying to make you smile. he let you cry into his hoodie, let you hold onto him like a fucking lifeline, and then, when you finally calmed down, he kissed your forehead like it was second nature. “you’re okay, baby” he murmured. “i got you.” he always had you.

or the night he took you to some shitty underground concert, knowing damn well you didn’t even like the band. “it’s not about the music,” he told you, grinning like an idiot. “it’s about the experience.” you rolled your eyes, but you still let him pull you into the crowd, still let him wrap an arm around you when the pit got too wild, still let him hold your hand. afterward, sweaty and breathless, you sat on the curb outside, sharing a cigarette while he rambled about how sick the show was. “you should play up there one day,” you told him, nudging his shoulder. “your songs have gotten better.” “you think?” “yeah. you’re good, bong-bong.” the nickname made him laugh. a week later, he showed you something he wrote. something raw and messy and fucking beautiful. he let you hear a part of him no one else ever did.

you even helped him rebrand himself. it started with him pacing his room, muttering to himself, stopping every few seconds like he was about to say something, then changing his mind. eventually, you sighed, rolling onto your stomach while watching him from his bed. “are you having a breakdown or just being dramatic?” he ignored you, still pacing. and then, out of nowhere, he stopped. snapped his fingers. looked at you like he just discovered the secret to life itself. “i’m gonna dye my hair purple.” you stared at him for a long second, waiting for him to laugh or tell you he was joking. but he just stood there, completely serious, shoulders squared like he was about to go to war.

within twenty minutes, you were in his bathroom, gloves on, a box of purple dye sitting between you. you didn’t even ask how he got it so fast. knowing him, he’d probably been sitting on this idea for weeks, just waiting for the right moment to drag you into it. he sat on the closed toilet lid, legs spread, while you stood over him, parting his hair and working the dye through. up close, he looked smug as hell, like he knew he was onto something. the whole rap game was about standing out, and he was done waiting for people to notice him.

the name ‘thanos’ caught on faster than you expected. at first, it was a joke—you called him that to be annoying, and then he used it in a song, and suddenly, people were saying it back to him. dms started piling up. more people started listening. before you knew it, subong wasn’t just some guy making music in his bedroom—he was thanos. and, of course, he acted like he knew it was gonna work all along.

and fuck, the time he brought you home to meet his family. his mom fussed over you like you were the perfect daughter-in-law, laying on your favorite dish and insisting you have seconds. then, saying, “he talks about you a lot”, making subong choke on his food while his sister goaded him about how he treats you like his damn girlfriend. you felt so out-of-place and yet so damn loved by the way he proudly introduced you to everyone, as if you were the missing piece in his fucked-up puzzle. he even opened up to you about his dad—how he never gave a shit about him, never looked at him unless it was to point out everything he did wrong. maybe that was why he kept stealing glances at you like he was trying to make sense of it—of being wanted, of being next to someone who actually cared.

and later that night, when you were both lying on his couch, full and sleepy, he nudged your knee with his. “thanks for coming, señorita,” he mumbled, eyes half-lidded. “they liked you.” you turned your head to look at him, saying, “of course they did. i’m fucking amazing.” he smirked, but it faded quick, his gaze lingering on you a little too long. “yeah,” he murmured. “you are.”

nights that weren’t about sex at all. the ones where he just wanted you close, his hands resting on your back, his lips pressed to your shoulder, his voice low and sleepy in the dark. “you’re warm,” he’d mumble, pulling you closer. “don’t leave.” “i work tomorrow, baby,” you’d say. “i’ll drive you… stay with me,” he’d always replied.

and you did. every single time.

and there were the nights he fucked you like he meant it. not just like you were some girl he was hooking up with, but like you were the only one who had ever mattered. like he was trying to prove something with every touch, every kiss, every time he pressed his sweaty forehead to yours and whispered your name like a prayer.

like he loved you. but he never said it. and neither did you.

so instead, you settled for the quiet moments—for the way he always pulled you into his lap at parties, his hands resting lazily on your thighs; for the way he let you pick the music when you drove anywhere, even though he always bitched about your taste; for the way he let you steal his fries, let you doodle on his lyrics notebook, let you wear his hoodies even when you didn’t ask; for the way he texted you ‘good morning, baby❤️,’ and it made you smile for no damn reason; for the way you woke up to find him still asleep beside you, hair a damn mess on the pillow, and traced lazy circles on his chest while he mumbled some half-remembered melody. for the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching.

you can’t help but hope that one day you’ll both just say the damn words and finally admit that all these little moments mean something. you hope that maybe, just maybe, one day you’ll stop wondering if you’re more than just friends with benefits.

are u busy?

no, why?

good, i’ll be there in 10

i’m on my period

who gives a shitttt, i sure as hell don’t, mama

subong.

yeah?🙏🏼

not in the mood❤️

oh

alr cool👍🏼💯

can i still come over tho? we could watch a movie or something

yeah okayyy, bring snacks (or else i won’t let you in)

i’m the only snack u need, girl

you don’t expect him to show up with anything, but when you open the door, subong’s standing there, hands full—one holding a plastic bag, the other gripping a bottle of soda. “what’s all this?” you ask, raising a brow. he steps inside without waiting for an invite, kicking off his shoes. “you said ‘bring snacks’, didn’t you?” he says, dropping the bag onto your coffee table. “figured you’d want something sweet.” you peek inside—chocolate bars, a pack of strawberry pocky, even a container of sliced fruit. your chest tightens at the thought of him actually remembering the little things you like.“what, no painkillers?” you tease, flopping onto the couch. he scoffs, collapsing next to you, way too comfortable in your space. “what do i look like, a pharmacy?”

you give him a knowing look, and his lips twitch, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. grabbing the remote, you ask, “so, what are we watching?” “something i won’t fall asleep to,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. “which means no boring indie shit.” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “first of all, my movie taste is elite. second, if you fall asleep, i’m taking pictures.” he grins, lazy and cocky. “yeah? what will you use them for?” heat rushes to your face, and you smack his arm without thinking. “shut up.”

the movie plays, and for a while, it’s normal. easy. you snack on the pocky while subong steals pieces of fruit from the container, acting like he’s doing you a favor by eating the ones you don’t like. he stretches out on the couch, legs spread, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. goddamn.

it's barely been a few minutes when you find yourself on your knees in front of the couch, his strong hand fisting in your hair as you hungrily suck his dick like your life depends on it. you couldn’t help it. he just looked too fucking good. you take him deep, your nose pressing against his abs, gagging slightly but refusing to back off. he lets out a groan as you take him, the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your head up and down. “fuck, just like that baby... show me how much you love this dick.” his hips thrust forward, making you gag slightly. “you're so f-fucking good for me... mmm such a pretty little mouth, choking on my cock.”

drool slips down your chin as you struggle to breathe but maintain eye contact, wanting him to see how much you love taking him in your mouth. the wet, obscene sounds of you slurping and gagging fill the room. he watches you intently, pupils blown wide with lust, his dick throbbing against your tongue. moaning around him, the vibrations make his thighs quake. "shit... you’re gonna make me fucking c-cum," he breathes out. “you gonna… you gonna let me cum in that s-sweet mouth of yours, hm?” “mhmm,” you purr around his length, looking up at him with hooded eyes. you double your efforts, sucking him hard and fast, your hand pumping what you can’t reach. he holds your head in place as he comes, making you to swallow every last drop. you take a moment to catch your breath, wiping your mouth before sitting back up.

the bathroom lights hum to life as you rinse your mouth and splash cool water on your face, trying to shake off the heat thrumming through you. you press your palms against the sink, inhaling deep in an attempt to look less flustered. the movie’s still on when you come back. you get comfortable, leaning into subong just slightly. he doesn’t say anything, just lifts his arm and lets you settle in against his side. the warmth of him seeps into you, and you rest your head on his shoulder. subong smiles at you before kissing your forehead, something that shouldn’t mean anything but somehow does.

you shift slightly, but he just pulls you in closer, his body solid and warm against yours. your heart stutters in your chest, and the thought of what you are—what you actually mean to him—becomes impossible to ignore. the longer you sit there, the harder it is to pretend this is normal. your heart is beating too fast, your mind racing with thoughts you’ve been shoving down for months. finally, you tilt your head to glance up. “subong,” you start, your voice quieter than you mean it to be. he hums, eyes still on the screen, but you can tell he’s listening. you swallow, suddenly nervous. “what… what are we doing?” that gets his attention. “what do you mean?” you sit up a little, putting some space between you—enough to see him clearly. “this. us. it’s been months, and we’ve never talked about it.” “what’s there to talk?” “i mean, is this just sex to you?”

he doesn’t answer right away. his jaw tenses, his eyes flicking away for a second like he’s weighing his words. “does it feel like just sex to you?” he finally asks. your chest tightens. “no.” his lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily. like maybe he’s been trying to convince himself of something different. “right. it’s not just sex, we’re friends, too,” he says. “then why are we acting like this?” you push. he rubs a hand over his face. “i don’t know.” he leans forward, elbows on his knees. the silence stretches thick between you, but you refuse to let it suffocate you. you need to know. “what do you want this to be?”

subong exhales hard, dragging a hand through his hair. he looks frustrated, like he doesn’t even want to have this conversation. like you’re ruining something by asking. “why do we have to call it something?” he says finally, and your stomach twists. you blink, sitting up a little. “because it’s been months, subong. because we’re not—we’re not just fucking and then going our separate ways. because we’re sitting here, cuddling, watching a damn movie, and it feels like more.” his jaw clenches, his fingers tightening around his knee. “it doesn’t have to mean anything.” that stings. worse than you were expecting. you swallow around the lump forming in your throat. “it does to me.” his face twists, like he hates hearing that. “shit, don’t fucking do this,” he mutters, shaking his head. “why can’t we just keep things the way they are?” “because i’m tired of pretending this is casual when it’s not,” you snap, your voice cracking. “not for me, at least.”

he squeezes his eyes shut for a second, like he’s trying to hold something back. when he looks at you again, his expression is unreadable, but his next words hit like a punch to the gut. “then maybe you shouldn’t have let it get this fucking far.” you feel like the air has been sucked out of the room. “what?” “i never promised you shit.” the words cut deep, sharper than anything he’s ever said to you before. you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. because he’s right. he never did. but the way he touched you, the way he held you after—none of that felt like nothing. you shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your voice steady. “are you fucking kidding me?”

he hesitates for a second too long. and that’s all you need to know. you force yourself to nod, pressing your lips together. “okay.” his brows furrow, like he wasn’t expecting you to take it like that, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything else. you grab the remote, press stop on the movie, and push yourself off the couch. “you should go.” “are you fucking serious?” you cross your arms over your chest, fighting to keep your composure. “yeah, i’m serious. get the fuck out.” “we have one fucking shitty conversation, and now you don’t want me here?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “what the fuck do you want from me, subong?” your voice shakes, and you can feel it crack, but you force it out. “sit here and pretend like i didn’t just fucking tell you how i feel? pretend i’m not fucking hurt because you—” you stop yourself, biting your lip so hard it almost bleeds. his jaw clenches. “what?” you let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “because you don’t fucking care.” “i never said i don’t care.” “you might as well have,” you snap, voice breaking with frustration. “you just don’t give a shit enough to do anything about it.” he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, breathing hard through his nose. “just because i care doesn’t mean we have to slap a fucking label on it!” “and i just have to be okay with that?!” you snap, your voice rising. “i have to sit here like a dumbass and pretend this is fine when it’s not?”

he throws his hands up, his face twisting in frustration. “for fuck’s sake, why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” “difficult?!” you let out a humorless laugh. “you’re the one acting like a fucking idiot, subong! you want to fuck me, cuddle me, act like i’m your fucking girlfriend, but the second i ask you to be honest about what this is, suddenly i’m the problem?! you even introduced me to your damn family!” he freezes for half a second when the words leave your mouth, then he stands up, jabbing a finger in your face. “what the fuck did you just call me?!” you swat his hand away, your glare burning into him. “don’t fucking point at me like that!” his jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare like he’s barely keeping himself from snapping. “you wanna talk about being a fucking idiot?! look in the fucking mirror!” he spits. “you’re the one acting like some needy little bitch because i won’t say what you wanna hear.” “fuck you, subong!” you don’t say anything else. you just turn on your heel and walk out of the living room, heading straight for the kitchen. your hands are shaking, your chest tight, and you just need to put some distance between you and him before you completely fall apart. behind you, you hear him scoff. “seriously? you’re just gonna walk away mid-fucking-conversation?”

you grip the edge of the counter, squeezing your eyes shut. maybe if you stay quiet, he’ll take the fucking hint and leave. but of course, he doesn’t. you hear his footsteps as he follows you in. “you always do this shit,” he mutters, his voice dripping with irritation. “running off the second things don’t go your way.” you whirl around, your eyes burning. “what should i do, then? hm? get on my knees and suck your fucking dick again?!” he clenches his fists at his sides, his mouth opening like he’s about to argue—but then he hesitates. because the truth is, you do mean something to him. he just doesn’t know how to fucking deal with it. subong has never done this before—never been in something that wasn’t just fucking around, never had to deal with real feelings, real expectations. and the idea of fucking it up? it scares the shit out of him. but instead of admitting that, instead of being honest for once in his life, he just does what he does best—pushes, lashes out. it seems easier than dealing with what he feels when he’s around you.

“why do you care so fucking much about not calling it something?” you ask, your voice softer now. “if we’re not seeing other people, if we’re always together, if you do care about me, then why?” his throat bobs as he swallows hard. and then—because he’s a fucking coward—he lies. “who says i’m not seeing other people?” you freeze. his face is unreadable, but you can see the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he already regrets saying it. “you’re lying.” your voice is quiet. he just shrugs, “i’ve been seeing this girl.” “who?” you raise your voice, taking a step closer as tears start falling down your face. “who?!” “i’m not fucking telling you!” “are you serious?! aren’t we supposed to be friends too?! we used to tell each other everything!”

his eyes flick to yours, and for a second—just a second—something flashes in them. something like guilt. but then he shuts it down, scoffing as he shakes his head. you continue, “but we’re not even friends anymore, are we?” “don’t say that.” “why not? it’s true, isn’t it? friends don’t do what we do,” you wipe at your face, even though the tears won’t stop fucking falling. he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, pressing it against the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to hold something back. but then he just shrugs again, voice flat. “guess we’re not fucking friends either, then.”

your vision blurs as you cry, no matter how hard you try to keep it together. “get the fuck out, subong.” your voice breaks on the last word, and you hate how fucking weak you sound, how pathetic. and the second the first real sob rips out of your throat, something in him shifts. “fuck. no, i—” he exhales, raking a hand through his hair, his voice softer now, like he’s realizing he went too far. “i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry—i’m sorry, baby.” “don’t fucking call me that!” “you gotta listen to me!” you shake your head, taking a step back, your whole body trembling. “no. i’m done listening to your fucking bullshit.” “baby, please.” his voice cracks, and his hands reach for you—hesitant, like he doesn’t know if you’ll let him touch you. “please.” you slap them away instantly. “don’t fucking touch me.” “you’re really just gonna shut me out like this?!” “you shut me out first!” “i fucking care about you!” “not enough!” his breath catches in his throat, and for a second, he just stares at you. “you’re being fucking dramatic.” “get the fuck out of my house, subong.” “why are you being such a fucking—” “say it.” your voice is a challenge, daring him to go there. he doesn’t hesitate. “bitch. a fucking bitch. you—you’re acting like a bitch.”

you’ve had enough. without thinking, you shove him—hard. he stumbles back a step, caught off guard, but you don't stop. you shove him again, your palms flat against his chest. “you’re a fucking asshole! fuck you! get out! get the fuck out!” his jaw tightens, like he wants to argue, like he wants to throw something else back at you, but you're already stepping forward again, grabbing his arm and shoving him toward the front door. subong wrenches his arm away, but you don't let it stop you. you push him again, shoving him past the threshold. but he’s not moving, so you grab the nearest thing—his damn sneakers—and chuck them at him, one after the other. the first one bounces off his chest, the second one catches him square in the shoulder. “what the fuck, man?!” subong barks, flinching back, his face twisting in irritation. he barely catches the second shoe before it can hit the ground. “you’re a crazy bitch!”

“fuck off!” your voice cracks again, but you don’t care. you’re already stepping forward, already reaching for the door—and you slam it in his face. the sound echoing through the room. for a moment, silence. a long, awful pause where your breath hitches, where your chest tightens so much it feels like you’re suffocating. then—“open the door. c’mon, open—open the fucking door!” he slams his fist against the wood. “stop being so fucking childish!” “you’re calling me childish?! grow up, subong! you’re twenty six, you don’t know what you want and you still dress like a fucking kid!” he bangs the door. “you’re one to talk, girl! always dressed like a damn slut!”

you squeeze your eyes shut and stumble to your room until your knees hit the bed, and then you’re collapsing onto it. the first sob breaks out of you before you can stop it, and then another, and another. you curl into yourself, pulling the blanket over your head, pressing your hands against your ears. but it doesn’t block him out. “fucking talk to me!” another bang. you hear the doorknob rattle. “baby, please! i’m sorry, okay?! c’mon, don’t do this! we’re fucking friends!” your voice is muffled when it finally comes, thick with tears, but loud enough for him to hear you. “go away!” “not fucking happening! open the damn door!” “go away or i’m calling the fucking cops, motherfucker!” that seems to work. you curl tighter, press your face into the pillow, and sob until the sound of his fists against the door fades away. he did this. he made you feel this way. and he fucking hates himself for it. but it’s too late.

the next few days are absolute shit. you barely leave your bed at first. your body feels too heavy, your chest too tight, your eyes too sore from crying. when you do finally move, it’s only to go through the motions—brushing your teeth, pulling on the same oversized hoodie, forcing down a few bites of food even when everything tastes like nothing, and going to work. you don’t check your phone at first. you can’t. but eventually, the screen lights up, and you don’t have to look to know who it is. subong. you let it ring. he calls again. and again. when it finally stops, the texts start.

pick up the fucking phone

cmon baby please

i fucking miss u

don’t do this shit to me

u make me so fucking angry

bro istfg

please

you turn the phone face down. but he doesn’t stop. every time you glance at your screen, his name is there.

i know u r reading these

don’t fucking ignore me bro

at least tell me u r okay

minsu asked why u didn’t come with us today

just fucking answer

is it that hard?

years and years of friendship man and u throw it all away like that?

u r fucking selfish

i hope u know that

the texts keep coming. always at random times. but the worst ones come at night. one day, at 4:12 a.m., your phone buzzes against your nightstand. you try to ignore it, try to pretend you’re asleep, but something tells you to look.

im highhg as fuvckk bro

look whatu vdone to me

fukcing bittvhhh

its urA fault

i mis uu

u r myybhaby❤️❤️❤️❤️

its fucking 4am. i wake up at 6 to go to work, stfu and leave me alone

can i cone over? plewaasse

answer bitchj

fuck you, subong. i don’t want to see you again

come bsck

i loveyouy

you block him, roll over, and squeeze your eyes shut. but sleep doesn’t come easy. not when the last words he sent are still glowing behind your eyelids, burning into your brain.

blocking him should have brought peace. should have been the final step, the clean break. but it doesn’t feel like that. instead, it feels like holding your breath underwater, waiting to resurface, except there’s no hand to pull you up this time. the first few days, you keep checking your phone out of habit. unlocking it without thinking. but there’s nothing. you still reach for him in small ways—almost texting him when something funny happens, almost turning to tell him about your day. but you can’t do that. you won’t do that. so you keep yourself busy. you pick up a book, let your eyes scan the words without really absorbing them. go on long walks, let the cold air bite at your skin, hoping it shocks you out of your thoughts. start journaling, writing down everything except his name, except the way your chest still feels hollow. you even try new things—take a yoga class with a friend, bake cookies at 2 a.m., cut your hair just to feel something different. but memories of him are stitched into the fabric of your life.

you hear his voice on the radio sometimes now, when they play a song of his that went viral. see him in the reflection of dark car windows, like he’s just a step behind you. hear a joke and immediately think about how he’d laugh, head thrown back, eyes crinkling at the edges. you tell yourself that eventually, you’ll forget. but some nights, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he’s staring at his too. if he’s thinking about you. and the ache doesn’t go away.

your phone rings one night, when you’re already in bed. you almost don’t answer, but when you see semi’s name flash across the screen, you pick up. “hello?” your voice is groggy, tired. “hey,” semi says. “sorry, did i wake you?” “no,” you lie. “what’s up?” there’s a pause. hesitation. then, “it’s subong.” your stomach drops. “we’re worried about him.” she rushes the words out, like she’s been holding them in for too long. “he’s been acting weird lately—worse than usual.” you close your eyes, already knowing where this is going. already knowing what she’s about to say before she even says it. “he’s been taking those pills,” she continues. “the ones he used to mess with sometimes, but now he’s on them all the time. it’s like he’s not even—shit. he was out,” she says, frantic. “namgyu couldn’t wake him up at first, it was fucking bad, dude. and now he’s still high as hell, barely making sense, and he keeps—” she hesitates. you frown. “he keeps what?” “he keeps mumbling your name.” you feel like you’ve been punched in the chest. you press your fingers to your temple, trying to stop the pounding in your head. “fuck.” “he’s not okay,” she says. “he’s barely sleeping, barely eating. he looks like shit. well, he always does, but you know what i mean. and when he does talk, it’s like he’s—like he’s not there.”

you take a shaky breath. you shouldn’t care. you don’t care. he’s not your problem anymore. but your stomach still twists at the thought of him like that. “maybe you could talk to him?” semi says, hopeful. “when he feels better. i think he’d listen to you. gyeongsu is gonna take us to the hospital in a few minutes, maybe you could come too? we’ll pick you up. we’re at namgyu’s apartment, we had to take him—” “we’re not friends anymore, semi,” you cut off, swallowing down the lump in your throat. silence. “what?” she says. “what do you mean?” “he hasn’t told you?” “told us what?” “it doesn’t matter,” you say finally, letting out a heavy sigh. “i can’t help him.” “but—” “i can’t, semi.” the words come out sharper than you mean them to. she falls quiet. after a long moment, she sighs. “alright, okay,” she says, voice heavy with disappointment. “i just… i didn’t know.”

and even though you tell yourself it’s not your problem, even though you tell yourself you did the right thing—you don’t sleep that night. maybe you’re the most horrible person ever. for not helping him. that’s what you think to yourself as the days go by. you don’t go to see him. you don’t text semi back. you tell yourself that there’s nothing you could have done, that he made his choices, that you’re not responsible for saving him. but the guilt sticks to your ribs.

you keep moving forward. and then, somewhere along the way, you meet him. he’s nothing like subong. not really. but sometimes, in the way he leans back in his chair, in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, in the way he laughs when he’s had one too many drinks—he almost is. (he even likes rap!) and maybe that’s why you let him take you out. why you let him kiss you. why you let him press his hands against your skin and pretend it feels right. it doesn’t. but you let it happen anyway. because it’s easier. because when you close your eyes, you can almost pretend it’s subong. it’s fucked up. you know it’s fucked up. but you tell yourself it’s fine. that it doesn’t matter. that this is what moving on is supposed to look like. but it’s not fair. you know you shouldn’t be doing this. and when he asks what’s wrong, why you get quiet sometimes, why you look at him like you’re seeing someone else—you just smile. shake your head. press a kiss to his lips and hope he never realizes that you don’t mean it. hope he never realizes that no matter how hard you try—subong is still the only one you see.

he invites you to a show one night, says it’ll be fun. you don’t really know much about it—just that it’s some rap battle tournament called ‘rap battlegrounds’—but you’re bored, and it’s something to do. you don’t ask too many questions because, honestly, you don’t care that much. he picks you up, and you follow him through the neon-lit streets to a club you’ve never seen before, the bass already thumping from inside. he leads you through the crowd to a small corner of the club. it’s dark, gritty, with exposed brick walls and dim, flickering lights that barely cut through the haze of smoke hanging in the air. the floor is sticky. it’s the kind of place you usually avoid, but tonight, you let it slide.

you're barely paying attention, your eyes drifting over the crowd, the noise just background filler. the battles blur together, the hype not really doing anything for you. you're zoning out, tapping your foot to the rhythm of the beat, hoping this night will pass quickly—regretting all your life choices when he wraps his arm around your shoulders. when suddenly, a voice crackles through the mic, cutting through the noise. “yo, yo, yo, we got a real one up next! fresh off that new heat, straight killin’ the game—make some noise for ‘thanos’!” you freeze, snapping your head to the stage as the crowd cheers. “…and he’s goin’ up against the beast, the local legend, the one and only jace ‘the hammer!’”

there’s no way. you blink, trying to process it, but everything’s too dark, shadows everywhere, making you second-guess yourself. but then, you hear it—his voice. your stomach sinks. this is real. subong is here. for a second, you think you might pass out. he’s standing there, center stage, all cocky confidence, rapping like he owns the room. you wish you could ignore it, wish you could pretend he’s just another guy on stage, but he isn’t. and you can’t. and then it happens. his eyes sweep across the crowd, like he’s eating up the attention, and then they land on you. he freezes. just for a second—just long enough for his flow to falter, the words dying on his tongue. the beat keeps going, but he doesn’t, and the guy he’s battling jumps in, taking advantage of the opening. subong blinks, shakes his head, tries to recover—but it’s too late. he’s lost the rhythm, lost the momentum, and the battle ends with subong’s opponent eating up the win. the crowd erupts, but subong doesn’t hear any of it. he stands there for a second, chest rising and falling like he can’t believe it—like he can’t believe he actually lost. then, without another word, he shoves the mic into someone’s hand and disappears behind the stage.

someone else takes the spotlight almost immediately, the next rappers stepping up, music booming through the speakers again. you turn to the guy beside you, grabbing his wrist. “i wanna leave.” he frowns. “what? why?” you glance toward the side of the stage, your stomach twisting. subong won’t just leave it alone—you know him. “i’m just—i’m kinda tired.” the nervousness in your voice alarms him. “are you okay? what’s wrong?” “nothing. i just don’t wanna be here right now.” he studies you, and you can tell the exact moment he realizes how tense you are, how your shoulders are stiff, how you haven’t stopped glancing over your shoulder. his expression softens, just a little. “hey,” he says, voice quieter now. “it’s okay. i’ll take you home.” “yeah?” “of course.” you don’t move when he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. and it feels like… nothing. just lips on lips, a fleeting warmth that barely registers. your chest feels tight, like you need to shake something off, drown something out. so you kiss him back, harder this time, pressing in, searching for something. maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s the way seeing subong on that stage messed with your head, knocked you off center. maybe you just want to prove to yourself that you can feel that rush with someone else. but you don’t. no matter how deep the kiss goes, no matter how much you try to lose yourself in it, there’s nothing there.

and just a second later, he’s ripped away from you—shoved back so hard he stumbles, nearly knocking into the bar behind him. and when you look up, you already know. subong stands there, shoulders tense, and his eyes locked on you. “what the fuck are you doing?!” “me?! what the fuck are you doing, subong?!” the guy composes himself and goes back next to you with a strained expression, one of his hands caressing his side. “what’s your problem, man?!” “who the fuck is this?” subong demands, his eyes never leaving yours. you exhale sharply. “just leave me alone.” disbelief flashes across his face like you’ve just insulted him. “nah, what the fuck is this?” he gestures vaguely between you and the guy. “this who you’re with now?” the guy straightens up. “is there a problem?” subong laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “yeah, there’s a fucking problem. who the fuck are you?” “just go, subong.” you cut in quickly. “no. i’m not fucking leaving.”

the guy beside you steps in, placing himself between you and subong. “you know this asshole?” he asks you. you sigh, “he’s… we used to be friends,” you reply. “yeah, and i’ve probably fucked her more times than you have, bro,” subong adds, a smirk on his face. “don’t listen to him,” you tell the guy before redirecting your attention to subong. “you’re being more than ridiculous right now. stop it. leave us alone.” he just stares, like he didn’t even hear you. like you didn’t just tell him to fuck off. “ridiculous?” he repeats, like the word itself it’s funny to him. “you wanna know what’s fucking ridiculous? you showing up here with—” he finally looks at the guy, eyes dragging over him like he’s barely worth acknowledging “—this.” “enough! i said… leave us alone.” “no, we need need to talk.” “she told you to leave, man.” the guy interrupts. wrong move. subong’s lips curl into something mean. “and who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” he sizes him up, scoffing. the guy doesn’t back down. he squares his shoulders, keeping himself between you and subong like he actually thinks that’ll stop him. subong steps closer, just enough to invade his space. you step forward, grabbing the guy’s arm. “seriously, let’s just go—”

subong’s hand shoots out, grabbing his collar. the guy shoves him back instantly, and that’s all it takes. subong’s always been quick to anger, and now he’s pissed. “relax,” the guy says, lifting his hands like he’s trying to de-escalate, but subong’s past that. “relax? you want me to relax when you’re out here kissing my girl?” the guy exhales through his nose. “you wanna fight me over her that bad?” he shakes his head. “man, you already lost once tonight.” subong’s expression shifts in an instant. his shoulders go tense, his nostrils flare, and his jaw locks so tight you swear you can hear his teeth grind. he snaps, swinging first. it’s fast, a punch aimed straight for the guy’s jaw, but he dodges, stepping back just in time. the guy doesn’t waste time. he drives forward, ramming his shoulder into subong’s chest, sending him stumbling back. for a second, you think it might end there—but of course, it doesn’t. subong recovers quick, too quick. he surges forward, grabbing the guy’s shirt and yanking him down just to throw a knee into his ribs. the guy grunts, shoving him off, and then they’re both swinging. fists connect, curses fly, and you can barely keep up. the guy tries to hold his own, landing a few hits, but subong barely flinches. he’s fueled by something else, and he’s not stopping. one punch lands hard against the guy’s cheek, snapping his head to the side. another follows, a brutal hit to his jaw that makes him stumble. then another. and another. the guy grunts, arms coming up to shield himself, but subong doesn’t let up. he grabs the front of his shirt, yanking him forward just to slam his fist into his face again.

blood splatters. and that’s when you snap out of it. “subong, stop!” he doesn’t hear you. “subong!” he pulls back for another hit, and you move before you even think. you grab him by his shirt, using all your strength to shove him back. he stumbles, losing his grip on the guy, his eyes wild when they snap to yours. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you scream, chest heaving. subong’s nostrils flare, hands still clenched into fists like he’s seconds away from going back for more. the guy groans, wiping blood from his face. “you broke my fucking nose, man! you’re insane!” he yells. “shut the fuck up,” subong spits, but before he can go at him again, you shove him harder. “leave him alone!” his breathing is heavy, his eyes dark, burning into yours. for a second, you think he might listen, that the fight might finally be over. but then, in one swift movement, he grabs your wrist. “what are you—” you barely get the words out before he pulls you with him, dragging you through the crowd, past the stage. “let go of me!” you struggle against his grip, but he doesn’t stop. people turn to look, but no one moves to intervene. they just watch. before you know it, you’re backstage, away from the lights, away from the eyes—trapped in a space that feels too small.

subong finally stops, shoving you back against the wall. you barely have a second to catch your breath before you’re shoving him off. “what the fuck is wrong with you?! what the fuck was all of that about?! huh?!” you slam your hands against his chest, but he barely moves. his jaw clenches, and when he speaks, his voice is rough. “what the fuck is wrong with me?! you’re really asking me that?! when you’re the one out there acting like a desperate fucking slut?!” your head jerks back, a bitter laugh ripping from your throat. “are you fucking serious right now?! you just beat the shit out of him, and you’re mad at me?! for what?! for moving the fuck on?!” “yeah, i fucking am!” he snaps. before you can react, he steps in, closing the space between you in an instant. his hands come up, slamming against the wall on either side of your head. your whole body tenses. he’s seething, breath ragged and reeking of cheap liquor and god knows what else. “why?!” “because you’re mine!” “yours?! fuck off!” you shove at him again, hard. “and take a goddamn shower while you’re at it. you smell like a fucking alleyway.”

his nostrils flare. “yeah? well, you smell like a cheap whore.” rage flares hot in your chest. “right, because you’d fucking know, wouldn’t you?” you sneer. his head tilts, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “at least i don’t pretend to have fucking standards. what’s his name, huh?” your stomach turns, but you don’t let it show. instead, you smile. “why? you jealous? go cry about it, asshole.” he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. “you know he’s just using you, right? you’re nothing but a warm hole to him.” your hand flies up before you can think better of it, shoving his face away. “yeah. like that wasn’t exactly what i was to you too, motherfucker.” he stumbles back a step, running a hand over his jaw. “we never talked about what the fuck we wanted, or what we expected from each other. so don’t—don’t—” “that’s what you tell yourself? that you didn’t lead me on? that you didn’t fuck with my head for months?!” you cut him off. “you’re a fucking coward, subong. too fucking scared to admit you wanted me, but the second i move on, suddenly you give a shit?” “move on? to who? that fucking loser? you think he actually gives a shit about you?” “and you do?” “you can’t just act like we never fucking happened!” “we didn’t happen, that’s the thing!” you shoot back. “you didn’t want to be with me like that,” your voice wavers, but you force yourself to hold your ground. “so you don’t get to fucking act like this. you don’t get to be jealous, you don’t get to start fights over me, and you sure as hell don’t get to drag me back here like you own me.”

his throat bobs as he swallows. he looks away for a second, like if he doesn’t meet your eyes, this won’t sting as much. like he can pretend this isn’t hitting him the way it is. his fingers twitch at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching like he’s trying to hold onto something—maybe the last shred of whatever this used to be. his breath comes sharp through his nose, the kind that’s meant to steady him but doesn’t do a damn thing. “i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, voice rough around the edges. “i don’t—i don’t own you.” but there’s something bitter in the way he says it, like he hates that it’s true. like he hates that he ever let it get to this point. you’re not his anymore. you never were, really. “then stop acting like it! don’t try to ruin everything just because you can’t handle the fact that i moved the fuck on!” for a second, he doesn’t say anything. his eyes flick over your face, tongue running over his teeth like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something worse. but then— “if you had, you wouldn’t have let that motherfucker shove his tongue down your throat right in front of me.” you scoff. “you think i did that on purpose?” he steps in, too close, and you instinctively take a step back. “fuck yeah, you did. you wanted me to see it. you wanted to fucking piss me off.” “you piss yourself off, subong! newsflash! not everything is about you! get over yourself.” “get over myself? you made me look like a fucking idiot out there!” “what the fuck are you talking about?” his eyes flash. “you made me lose the fucking battle, man!” you blink, caught off guard for half a second, then roll your eyes. “first of all, i’m not a man. second of all, don’t blame that shit on me.” “right. it’s never your fucking fault, huh?” he shakes his head. “you just get to do whatever the fuck you want and act like it doesn’t affect me.” you throw your hands up. “if you weren’t such a fucking asshole, maybe this wouldn’t have happened!” “yeah?!” “yeah!”

and then there’s silence. thick, heavy silence. his breathing is still ragged, his hands still curled into fists at his sides. your heart is pounding, your own fists clenched just as tight. then subong scoffs, shaking his head. “you’re so fucking full of shit.” “excuse me?” “you wanna talk about me being an asshole when you’ve been ignoring me for months? like i didn’t fucking exist.” the pain in his voice is evident and it catches you off guard. “i wasn’t—i didn’t ignore you. i was trying to heal. you’re seriously throwing that in my face right now?” “yeah, i am. don’t act like you’re the only one who got hurt.” “don’t do that.” “do what? tell the truth? you fucking blocked me, girl!” “no! don’t—don’t twist shit around just to make yourself feel better,” you snap. “you know exactly why i did it. don’t act like you’re the fucking victim.” “who is it then? you?” he scoffs. “oh, eat shit, subong! you never fucking came to see me!” you throw your arms out, exasperated. “not once! you could’ve fixed this, but you didn’t.” his jaw clenches, but he doesn’t look away. “you think i didn’t want to?” “i don’t know what the fuck you wanted!” your voice cracks, but you don’t care. “i called! and texted you every single fucking day!” “and you think that’s enough?! after everything?!” "i almost fucking overdosed!" he yells. "i was at my fucking lowest, and you—" he lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "you weren't there." you shake your head, anger bubbling in your chest. "don't put that on me, subong. you did that to yourself," you snap, voice sharp. "don't fucking guilt trip me with that." "are you serious?" “what do you want me to say? did you expect me to just forget everything and come back to you like nothing happened? you promised me—how many times?—that you weren’t gonna do that shit anymore, and here we are! and not only are you trying to make me feel like a fucking piece of shit for it, but you’re also acting like this—all of this—is my fault? when you were the one who decided i wasn’t good enough to be anything more than a fuck buddy?”

his expression falters—just a flash of something almost guilty—but then he scoffs, masking it with anger. “you’re really trying to act like you didn’t fucking replace me the second i was gone?” “replace you?” you repeat, incredulous. “you can’t be serious right now. i wasn’t the one fucking other people when we were…. whatever we were!” he freezes, his face draining of color for a split second. “don’t bring that shit up.” “oh, I’ll bring it up, alright. because you can’t say that shit to me when you were too busy screwing around while i was waiting for you to call me your fucking girlfriend.” he opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a group of people walk past, glancing over at the scene. a couple of them whisper, eyes flicking nervously from you to subong. his face hardens, irritation flashing across his features, and without warning, he grabs your wrist. “what the fuck are you looking at?” he snaps at them. the group quickly averts their gazes, pretending they weren’t just watching him. he yanks you away and you struggle for a moment, trying to free yourself from his grip, but he doesn’t let go. you’re too caught up in the heat of the moment to really think about where he’s taking you. before you know it, you’re being shoved through a door into a dimly lit room backstage, the door slamming shut behind him with a force that echoes in the silence. the room is small, cluttered with his belongings—bags, jackets, and scattered items. a mirror with round vanity lights casts a dull glow over the space, reflecting the mess on the counter: a half-empty water bottle, energy drink cans, his vape, a lighter, a bunch of candy wrappers and a few crumpled papers.

“you need to stop doing that!” you snap. “dragging me around like i’m—i don’t know—like i’m some puppet!” he ignores your words. “listen,” he says, “i tried to make it right, okay? i did.” “calling me? texting me?” you scoff, disbelief laced in your voice. “that’s what you think making it right looks like? all you ever did was send bullshit messages—half insults, half nothing at all.” you shake your head. “if you actually meant it, you would’ve come to me. you know where i live, where i work—you had every chance to show up, to prove that you actually gave a damn. but you didn’t.” his voice shakes now. “i thought… i thought you didn’t fucking need me anymore! i thought you’d be better off without me!” “better off without you?! that’s the dumbest excuse i’ve ever heard!” before you can stop yourself, you shove him, hard enough that he stumbles back a step. “you were my fucking best friend, you idiot!” your voice cracks as a tear rolls down your cheek, and you have to look away. “and i…” the words tangle in your throat. you swallow hard, forcing them out. “i fucking loved you.”

the words hit him like a fist to the gut. he swallows, his throat suddenly dry. because he knows. he knows exactly how that feels. he’s loved you too—probably longer than he even realized. but he’s never said it. not properly. not in a way that mattered anyway. and now? now it sounds like it’s too fucking late. “loved,” he repeats. “past tense?” you don’t answer. “you don’t—you don’t love me anymore?” the words slip out before he can stop them, and he hates how pathetic they sound, how fucking vulnerable they make him. “subong i—i’m sorry, i can’t… i can’t do this,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “answer me,” he presses, stepping closer, his pulse thundering in his ears. “please.” “i’m not talking about this,” you say firmly, reaching for the door. but he moves faster, pressing his hand against it, keeping you trapped in the small room with him. you squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling sharply. “i don’t want to see you again, subong.” “i do.” “well, i don’t.” “why not?” “because it fucking hurts!” the words barely leave your lips before the weight of everything crashes down on you all at once. “it… it hurts.” your throat burns, and suddenly, you can’t hold it back anymore. a choked sob rips through you, and before you can stop yourself, you’re crying.

subong’s eyes widen for half a second, like he doesn’t know what to do with the sight of you breaking down in front of him. but then, without hesitation, he reaches for you. “i know,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “i know, baby.” the warmth of him, the familiarity, the way he holds you…it all feels too fucking good. too safe. too much like home. you sob into his shirt, fists clutching at the fabric, body shaking as months’ worth of pain and anger pour out of you. he holds you tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other resting firm against your waist. “i’m sorry,” he breathes.

you suck in a sharp breath, realization slamming into you. and just like that, the warmth turns suffocating. “no,” you whisper, pushing against his chest. he stiffens. “what—” “get off me.” he hesitates, grip loosening slightly, but you shove harder, forcing space between you. “fuck, subong, what the hell am i doing?” he looks at you, confused, almost dazed, like he doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly pulling away. “baby—” “don’t call me that,” you cut him off. “i can’t—i can’t do this with you.” his jaw tightens. “you don’t mean that. you know you don’t.” “i do! because you fucking broke me!” you yell, hands trembling. “and i hate that you still make me feel like this!” you pause, trying to catch your breath, wiping at your face furiously. you hate the way the tears cling to your skin. you hate even more that he’s standing there, watching you cry. you force yourself to steady your voice. “i’m leaving.” “no, you’re not.” he’s there—blocking the door. you let out a frustrated breath, shoving at him again, but he doesn’t move an inch. “subong, move.” nothing. he doesn’t even blink. “is he your boyfriend?” the question throws you off balance. your brows furrow, and for a moment, the anger is eclipsed by confusion. “what?” “that guy. is he your boyfriend?” you exhale sharply, shaking your head as you glare at him. “jesus christ, subong, really?” “is he?” “it’s none of your business,” the words are clipped, laced with venom. his eyes darken. “none of my—?” he drags a hand through his hair, like he’s barely keeping himself together. for a second, it looks like he might actually lose it. “seriously? you can’t even say no?” “why does it matter?!” you snap. “it fucking matters to me!” your heart pounds. you don’t know why it’s so hard to answer, why the words feel like they’re lodged in your throat. his patience wears thin. “fucking hell, just—” “no!” you cut him off. “he’s not my boyfriend, okay?!” you shake your head. “did you fuck him?” “are you serious right now?” “answer the fucking question,” he demands, stepping closer. you scoff, shaking your head. “you’re actually insane.” “fucking answer!” “yes!” the word rips out of you before you can stop it. “yeah, i did. happy now?”

for a moment, he doesn’t react. he just stares at you, like the air has been knocked from his lungs. his jaw clenches, his nostrils flare. but nothing can stop the thought from sinking its claws into him—someone else touching you, having you, getting what he let slip through his fingers. it makes him sick. and it’s his own damn fault. he knows he has no right to be angry. no right to feel this way. but the jealousy curdles in his stomach, and before he can stop himself, the words tear from his mouth like a whip. “you’re a fucking whore.” the second he says it, he hates himself for it. but he doesn’t take it back. your fury is instant, white-hot.“fuck you! don’t call me that!” “i’ll call you whatever the fuck i want!” he snaps. he needs to hurt you, to make you feel even a fraction of what he’s feeling. “you really don’t see how fucking pathetic that is? spreading your legs for some guy who doesn’t even matter?” the words taste like acid in his mouth, but he spits them out anyway. he doesn’t know how else to deal with the anger, the self-hatred he feels. it’s easier to take it out on you than to admit the truth—that he ruined everything, that he’s the reason you were with someone else.

your vision goes red. before you can think, before you can stop yourself, your hand swings up and smacks across his face. his head jerks to the side from the impact, and for a moment, everything is dead silent except for the sharp sound of your ragged breathing. then, slowly, he turns back to you, his jaw tightening, his tongue running over the inside of his cheek like he’s tasting the sting of your palm. “did you just hit me?” his voice is low. oh, he’s angry. “yeah, i fucking did,” you say, your hands trembling. “because you’re a fucking piece of shit!” “you’ve got some fucking nerve!” he seethes, shoving your forehead with two of his fingers, forcing your head back slightly. you slap his hand away, your own anger doubling at the touch. “do that again, and i’ll break your fucking fingers, motherfucker,” you warn. “you just slapped me!” “and you called me a whore twice, subong! i wonder how the fuck i was ever friends with you! you’re a hypocrite!” he steps closer, jabbing a finger in your face. “don’t fucking talk to me like that!” “and i told you many times not to fucking point your finger at me!” you yell, shoving his hand away harder this time. so hard his arm jerks back. “who the fuck do you think you are?! you can’t fucking judge me when you’re the one who—”

his patience snaps. he grabs a nearby chair and hurls it at the wall. it hits with a loud crack, rattling from the impact before toppling over. you flinch, but you don't back down. “real fucking mature.” “you don’t fucking get it.” “why do you even care, huh? you have plenty of other girls to fuck, don’t you?” you spit. “so why the fuck does it matter who i’m with? why is it a problem when you do the exact same shit?” he doesn’t say anything. fine. you’re done here. you reach for the door again, shoving past him. “i’m leaving—” “i lied.” his voice stops you cold. slowly, you turn back, brows furrowing. “what?” he swallows hard. “i lied about it. there was never another girl.” you stare at him in disbelief. “i just—i said that shit to piss you off. to make you hate me. but i never—” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “i never touched anyone else when i was with you.”

your mind spins, struggling to piece together what he’s saying. he’s lying again. he has to be. “you expect me to believe that?” your voice is defensive. “i don’t give a fuck if you believe me,” he snaps back. “it’s the truth.” your throat tightens. there’s something in his eyes, something desperate, something you’re not used to seeing. “why?” he hesitates. his lips part, then press into a thin line. “because i—” he exhales sharply, looking away for a moment before forcing himself to look at you again. “because i love you. i’ve—” “don’t fucking lie to me, subong.” frustration flashes across his face. “i’m not lying, okay?! i’ve—” “sure as hell you aren’t.” “jesus—can i fucking talk?!” you huff, arms crossing tightly over your chest. your jaw aches from how hard you’re clenching it. but you don’t interrupt again. you let him speak. “i’ve loved you for so fucking long, and it scared the shit out of me. you were my best friend and i didn’t—i didn’t know how to do it. how to be with you without fucking it all up.” you shake your head, gripping your arms tighter. “you can’t just say this shit and think it fixes everything,” you whisper, voice trembling. “you loved me, and you never told me. you preferred this… this shit between us rather than just… being fucking honest. you—” your breath shudders and you stop to breathe for a moment. “you’re confusing me, subong.”

he sighs. you can see it in his eyes—the regret, the pain, the anger at himself. then, he steps closer. his hands find your face, fingers gentle as they cup your cheeks. his thumbs move carefully, wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized were still falling. his touch is soft—so fucking soft it almost breaks you. you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing against the lump in your throat. you shouldn’t let him do this. shouldn’t let him hold you like this, shouldn’t let yourself sink into the warmth of his hands. but you do. because it’s him. “i’m sorry, baby” he murmurs, his breath warm against your face. “fuck, i’m so sorry.” his voice is lower now, and when you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you—his brows furrowed. “i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he continues, his hands steady on your face. “i swear to god, i didn’t.” “but you did.” “i know,” he whispers. “i was a fucking idiot.” his thumbs still trace slow paths along your skin, like he’s trying to ground himself in the feel of you. you try to look away, but he won’t let you. his grip isn’t forceful, but it’s firm—just enough to keep you there. “i can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, his brows furrowing deeper, like it physically hurts him to admit it. “no matter what i do—it’s always you.” “don’t—” “it’s the truth,” he cuts in, his hands sliding down to your jaw, his fingers just barely brushing your neck. “i wake up thinking about you. i fall asleep thinking about you. every fucking song i write is about you. every stupid little thing reminds me of you.” you shake your head, blinking back tears. “stop it.” “i can’t,” he breathes. “i don’t know how.”

he leans in slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours. “tell me you don’t feel the same, and i’ll go.” your heart pounds so hard it hurts. he’s so close… and the way he’s looking at you, like he’s daring you to push him away, makes something snap inside you. before he can say another word, you grab his shirt and yank him down, crashing your lips against his. subong freezes for half a second, like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he groans into your mouth, his hands gripping at your waist as he kisses you back just as hard. he barely gives you a second to breathe before he’s backing you up, walking you straight into the wall. the impact makes a sharp gasp escape you, but he swallows it down, one hand threading into your hair, tilting your head back as his mouth moves against yours.

then it happens—your breath catches, and before you can stop it, a tear slips down your cheek. he stops. his lips hover just over yours, his chest rising and falling against you, and he pulls back just enough to look at you. “are you okay?” you don’t answer. instead, you pull him back in, your fingers curling around the back of his neck. you kiss him harder, and he lets you—lets you take what you need, lets you pour everything you can’t say into this. his fingers tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to pull your head back before pressing his forehead to yours. “tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips. in a broken whisper, you finally say it. “i need you.” he’s been waiting to hear that. for months, it’s been the only thing on his mind—you. every time he got high, every time he tried to flirt with someone else, every time he told himself it didn’t matter, that you didn’t matter. but it was all a lie. because you did. you always did. and now you’re here, in his arms, needing him. and he’s so fucking mad at himself for wasting all this time, for pushing you away, for pretending he didn’t want this when you’ve been the only thing he’s wanted.

that’s all it takes. he’s on you in an instant, his hands gripping your waist as his mouth crashes against yours. he walks with you, never breaking the kiss, his fingers pressing into your sides, guiding you until your legs bump against the edge of a small table. before you can steady yourself, his hands move to your hips, helping you up until you’re perched on top of it. his lips leave yours, dragging along your jaw and your neck. one hand slides up, fingers curving over your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt. the touch alone makes a soft moan slip past your lips. he swallows the sound with another kiss, deep and greedy, before tugging your shirt up, his palms skimming your skin as he pulls it over your head. his other hand moves with purpose, working the clasp of your bra. the second it falls away, his mouth is on you. you gasp when his tongue flicks over your nipple, your head falling back as pleasure shoots through you. “gonna make you feel good, baby,” he promises, his breath hot on your skin as he switches to your other breast, his teeth grazing your nipple just enough to make you squirm. his free hand slides down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants with practiced ease before slipping between your thighs. you spread them instinctively, your breath hitching when his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your panties. “you’re so wet for me already,” he says, pulling back to look at you, his eyes dark with hunger.

subong takes his time peeling your pants off, pressing soft kisses to your thighs, your knees, your ankles. once they’re gone, he hooks his fingers into your panties, dragging them down at the same agonizing pace, his lips following their path. he tosses them aside without a second thought. then he’s on his knees, hands spreading your thighs wider as the cool air hits your skin, making you shiver. “let me show you how sorry i am, yeah?” you nod slowly in response. subong leans in, his breath hot against you, and you bite your lip, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach. and then his tongue is on you, licking a long stripe up your center, parting your delicate folds, exploring your wetness. you gasp when it finds your clit, your hands flying to his purple hair as his tongue swirls around it in slow circles. “f-fuck, yeah, right there,” you whimper, and he hums against you in approval.

he focuses all his attention on it, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub before sucking it gently into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing out as he applies gentle pressure. you feel one of his fingers slide inside you, then two, curling them upwards and hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back. his tongue never leaves your clit, licking and sucking in perfect rhythm with his fingers, and you can feel that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. your hand travels to the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek as he works you. moans grow louder, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face. “subong—” you try to speak, but the words die in your throat—the pleasure too strong. he smirks, feeling you tightening around his fingers. “that’s it, baby” his voice is muffled against you. “cum for me.” and you do, your back arching, knuckles white from gripping the side of the table, a cry tearing from your throat as you fall apart. his mouth never stops, drawing every last wave of pleasure from you until you’re boneless, panting.

you try to catch your breath as he stands, pulling you into him, his mouth claiming yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. your fingers tremble slightly as they find the hem of his shirt, slipping beneath the fabric. he shudders under your touch, muscles tensing before he exhales, letting you lift the shirt over his head. it falls somewhere behind him as your hands roam his chest. this isn’t like before. like the other times you’ve had sex. there’s something different in the way his fingers brush your skin, in the way he watches you like he’s afraid to blink, afraid to miss a second of this. you reach for his waistband, tugging at it, and he lets you, his breathing uneven as he watches your hands work him free. his pants and boxers slip to the floor, and he steps out of them, never once breaking contact.

“do you… do you have a condom?” you ask quietly. he stills, his hands resting on your hips as he looks at you. his brows pull together slightly. “no,” he admits, then asks, “do you?” you shake your head. “no.” “shit,” he exhales, his forehead falling to your shoulder. you can tell he’s frustrated—not at you, but at the situation. “it’s… it’s okay. we don’t need one,” you add softly. his head snaps back up. “you sure?” he asks, and you nod. “i want to feel you.” your words are the confirmation he needs. he grabs your thighs before pulling you closer to the edge of the table, spreading them apart to find room between them. his raw tip presses against your clit and you take a deep breath when he starts grinding against you, his stiff dick sliding across your wet slit. you both moan at the feeling, but nothing compares to the gasp that escapes both of your lips the moment he slides inside of you.

he’s slow at first, letting you adjust to the feeling, his hands holding you in place as he sinks in deeper, stretching you around him. you try to steady yourself, holding onto the side of the table with one of your hands again. his breath is uneven, and each slow, measured thrust makes you ache for more. but then his pace shifts. his grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls back and thrusts in harder and faster. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the space between you, mixed with your breathless moans and his ragged groans. when you meet his gaze, his brows are furrowed, his lips parted. you can see it all written on his face: how much he’s wanted this, how long he’s been waiting, how badly he’s yearned for you. he looks like he’s barely holding himself together, like he’s afraid he won’t last because you feel too fucking good. “fuck,” he grits out, voice strained, his fingers flexing against your hips. “i missed you s-so fucking much…” his words cut off in a groan, his head dropping forward, forehead pressing to yours as he fucks you like he’s trying to make up for all the lost time. “i missed this… mmm… missed this pretty pussy of y-yours.” he drives into you harder, like he’s trying to claim you, like he’s trying to erase every trace of anyone else who’s ever touched you—muttering curses under his breath like he’s punishing himself as much as he’s fucking you. your nails scrape down his back, leaving red streaks in their wake, and he groans at the sting, at the way you cling to him. “fuck, baby—” he gasps, voice rough. “was he better than me? tell me,” he demands, his thrusts turning brutal, each one punctuating his words. “did he—did he fuck you like this? mmh? shit… did he make you cum like i-i do?” there’s anger in his voice. not at you—at himself. for waiting too long, for not telling you the truth when he had the chance, for letting someone else have you. you shake your head in response. his hand grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “answer me.” “n-no!” you whimper “he… he didn’t, baby. only you—mmph!—only you make me f-feel this good.”

his grip on your chin tightens for a second before he releases you, his hand sliding down to wrap around your throat instead. not squeezing, just holding—just feeling you. his pace doesn’t slow, if anything, it gets rougher, like your answer wasn’t enough to satisfy the anger. “that’s right,” he grits out, sweat slicking his skin. “he could never…he could never fuck you like this.” his other hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise as he slams into you, making you cry out. you hold onto him, and he loves it—loves feeling you claim him the way he’s claiming you now. and fuck, he needs this, needs to remind himself that you’re here, wrapped around him—that you’re his. “look,” he mutters, commanding. “look how fucking g-good you’re taking me.” your breath hitches as your eyes drop, and fuck—seeing it is different. watching the way his dick disappears inside you, the way your body clenches around him, the way he’s completely buried in you, over and over again… “see that?” he pants. “you were made for me. this was fucking made for me.” his hand moves again, sliding between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, precise circles. “shit—subong!” you let out a broken moan. “y-yeah… fuck, yeah, just like that!” a whimper slips from your lips when subong fists your hair, tugging your head back up until your eyes meet his again. “say it,” he practically pleads. “say that you're mine.” “i-i'm yours!" you gasp, your voice shaking, your whole body trembling from the intensity of him. “i'm fucking yours…mmm… always been.” “i’m yours too, baby.”

his thrusts grow frantic and his breath comes in harsh, uneven bursts. all he can hear is the sound of his name falling from your lips in desperate, breathless moans. he swears he’s never heard something as beautiful. you can tell he is close, holding you in place as he leans over you, his forehead pressing against yours. your body tenses, your gummy walls clenching around him, his fingers still pressed on your clit as he pounds into you, making it impossible for you to hold back. your body tenses, and your free hand clings to the back of his neck with desperation as you kiss him, trying to muffle your whimpering. “gonna cum for me, b-baby?” he whispers, pulling away for a moment. “gonna—mmh! gonna cum on my cock?” you can’t even nod. his words are like a spark, and you can’t hold it back anymore. your body snaps, the pleasure flooding you. “subong!” you cry out, legs shaking. he watches you, his name on your lips, and the sight of you completely undone drives him to the edge. with a final, deep thrust, he follows you, quickly pulling out, his release spilling into your lower stomach. his face contorts, a strangled gasp escaping him as he rides out his own climax. he stays there for a moment, his body pressed against yours, both of you breathing heavily, sweat-slicked skin sticking together. “i love you,” you whisper, hands running through his messy hair. “i love you too, señorita,” he smirks, his hand cupping your cheek before leaning in to give you a small peck on the lips. “i missed you.”

subong is a good boyfriend. or at least he tries to be. he still messes up sometimes, still says things without thinking, still gets into fights he shouldn’t, but he’s trying. you see it in the way he waits for you after work, hands shoved into his pockets like he’s trying to play it cool, but you know he’s been standing there for a while. in the way he walks on the outside of the sidewalk, even though you never asked him to. you see it in the way he always grabs an extra drink when he stops by the convenience store, handing it to you without a word, like he just knew you’d want one. in the way he texts you did you eat? before he even says hello. in the way he always grumbles about carrying your bag when it looks too heavy, but takes it anyway. in the way he lets you steal his hoodies, rolling his eyes when you show up wearing one but never actually asking for it back. you see it in the way he lets you mess with his hair, even when he pretends to hate it. in the way he looks at you, like he still can’t believe you’re his. in the way he says your name, soft around the edges. in the way he tells you he loves you—not just with words, but in a hundred different ways, every single day.

there’s no confusion anymore. no second-guessing, no wondering where you stand with each other. he wants you, and he’s not afraid to say it. he tells you all the time, in every way he knows how. sometimes it’s casual, like when he looks at you in the middle of a conversation, something soft in his eyes, and says, “you know i love you, right?” like he just needs you to know. and then there are times when he’s shameless about it. like the time he made it his entire mission to embarrass you in front of both of your friends, throwing an arm around your shoulders and grinning as he declared, “isn’t my girlfriend the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen? no offense to you, semi.” there’s a beat of silence before half of them go “what?!” while the others just exchange knowing looks. “wait—dude, since when?!” namgyu asks. “oh, come on,” semi scoffs, rolling her eyes. “like we didn’t all see this coming.” subong just smirks, pulling you a little closer, dropping a kiss to your cheek. he’s here, and he’s yours, and he makes sure you know it.

you’re still best friends. you still laugh until your stomach hurts, still steal food off each other’s plates, still shove at each other like you’re kids. except now he kisses you after. or before. or sometimes instead of shoving you back. he’s still stubborn, still gets on your nerves more than anyone else. he’s not perfect, but he never pretends to be. and maybe that’s what makes it feel so easy. there’s nothing to prove, nothing to question. just the two of you, exactly as you are, exactly as you’ve always been. just you and him.

if you’ve read this far, i love you, let’s get married pookie ong

[astonmartinii]

ultimate wing man | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x horner!reader y/n is notoriously single, and her dad decides to take it into his own hands.

masterlist

if you want to leave a tip x

yourusername

liked by christianhorner, danielricciardo and 603,561 others

yourusername: galentines was a must this year

view all comments

user1: this girl cute and rich how come no man has come in for her?

yourusername: i ask myself that everyday tbf i am a catch 🎣

user2: i need to be her friend asap

christianhorner: looking lovely darling as usual

yourusername: thank you papa

yourbff1: thank you for the champagne father horner

yourbff2: thank you for driving to london to pick us up at 2am father horner

yourbff3: sorry for throwing up in the porsche father horner

christianhorner: no worries girls, all will be forgiven if you convince y/n to go on the date i set up for her

yourusername: will you stopppppppp i just got out of a relationship ur not gonna be grandpa for a good fucking while

christianhorner: you can be the one to tell your mum that

yourusername: please your ego can't take being called grandpa

user4: so what i'm hearing is i need to be friends with y/n to get my nights out paid for by christian horner

user5: i know yall hate christian but his relationships with his kids kinda make me like him

user6: no i agree with you, it's super cute and you can't handle that he's just good at his job

maxverstappen1: oh i see, @danielricciardo why didn't we get our tabs covered?

danielricciardo: clearly aren't loved as much here :(

yourusername: i mean i'm his literal flesh and blood

maxverstappen1: but we make him money ???

yourusername: and i spend it?

danielricciardo: so we're funding the galentines benders?

yourusername: eh probably, i do have a job but i'd rather spend other people's money lol

user7: she's so real

user8: she is my professor of girl maths

christianhorner

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 408,943 others

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo

christianhorner: had to get the grill out for this bank holiday weekend with the family

view all comments

user10: christian referring to max and dan as family sergio i am so sorry

user11: the state of the seasoning makes me think that sergio dodged a bullet

yourusername: thank you papa but disappointed not to see you wearing the apron i got you for christmas

christianhorner: i'm sorry y/n but i'm not going to wear a "this chef wants to fuck toto wolff" apron at a family event

yourusername: shame, you wear daniel's merch all the time

danielricciardo: awwww christian i'm blushing

user12: i'm sorry christian horner owns a "this chef wants to fuck toto wolff" apron and we haven't seen it

user13: y/n horner you are a national treasure for real

maxverstappen1: woah who are those sexy guys in the last picture?

yourusername: the way i can't escape yall even at family events

maxverstappen1: not our fault ur dad loves us

danielricciardo: though there are definite perks

christianhorner: my cooking skills?

danielricciardo: sure...

user14: christian's obsession with daniel needs to be studied

yourusername: i think it's just a horner thing tbf

user15: HUH?

user16: i mean who isn't obsessed with daniel

liked by yourusername

user17: to be honest i would love for y/n and daniel to be a thing i am TIRED of constantly reading about how her latest bf has cheated on her

user18: for real that girl is in the trenches all the time she needs a good guy

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, alexalbon and 650,450 others

yourusername: not really the dress for a pasta dinner but look at the material

view all comments

user22: miss ma'am i thought we were a no on the dating thing for a while

yourusername: i'm dumb i know but i have a good feeling about this one !!

user23: i think i've seen this film before

yourusername: have some faith my dad picked him so it's not my terrible taste

maxverstappen1: wait so you actually went on the date your dad set up for you?

yourusername: uh yeah when you have taste this bad you need intervention

maxverstappen1: you said it not me

yourusername: you said nothing every time i brought them to the garage

maxverstappen1: not to your face lol i was trying to be nice in front of your dad

yourusername: hmmmmmm well part of me thinks you guys won't have any complaints about this one

user23: i hate that i am so invested in this

alexalbon: so the date happened and lily and i still haven't gotten the debrief yet? i see how it is.

yourusername: bro i just got home and sat down give me some time

alexalbon: let me put the kettle on and then call us

yourusername: i can't promise i can tell you who it was just yet

lilymunhe: you're such a tease !!!

yourusername: gentleman don't kiss and tell

user24: walk with me: christian set this date up, christian loves daniel, daniel and the guy in the picture both have tattoos, daniel usually comments on all of y/n's posts but is silent on this one

user25: get a life (i believe you 100%).

danielricciardo

liked by christianhorner, yourusername and 1,209,667 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: enchante

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user26: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

user27: daniel really said fuck y/n's soft launch

maxverstappen1: YES the garage owe me $50

yourusername: you bet on who my date was?

maxverstappen1: well i bet even though it was the most obvious thing in the world who your dad would choose

yourusername: my dad has good taste?

user28: it's annoying me how cute this is

user29: i need it to be me next time

yourbff1: father horner can you matchmake for me next please, anyone on the grid will work

christianhorner: my days of being cupid are over unfortunately, pulling this off was way too stressful

user30: you telling me horner gets more stressed over setting his daughter up rather than whole ass races

yourusername: you're lucky you're sexy i had the whole soft launch planned out

danielricciardo: my sexiness has gotten me out of a lot in life

yourusername: it won't get you out of this family dinner though

danielricciardo: oh please your dad is only having dinner so he can see me

yourusername: unfortunately true, at least i love you as well now

danielricciardo: you always did, don't lie

yourusername: yeah but i don't want to inflate your ego any more

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 803,459 others

tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo

maxverstappen1: someone save me from the constant torture of third wheeling

view all comments

user32: max is such a mood, i too become suicidal around any happy couple

yourusername: i don't remember you complaining when we literally made you dinner and hung out with you all night because you were "bored and lonely and wanted to annoy us"

maxverstappen1: *annoy my favourites

danielricciardo: we're well aware we're your favourites, we're the only ones who will tolerate you

maxverstappen1: well when you put it like that it makes me sad

yourusername: nooooo maxy we love you

user33: max using a meme of himself is peak max verstappen behaviour i can't lie

landonorris: wait so where was my invitation?

yourusername: this wasn't an invite only event it was me and daniel trying to have an evening in

maxverstappen1: but i thought you liked that i bought jimmy and sassy :(

yourusername: I LOVE THEM PLEASE HELP ME CONVINCE DANIEL TO GET A CAT

danielricciardo: i love you so much but we can barely feed ourselves and max so maybe we shouldn't be in charge of another living creature

yourusername: can we at least cat sit :(

danielricciardo: of course honey

user34: oh to be drinking wine on the couch with my boy friend daniel ricciardo

yourusername

liked by christianhorner, charles_leclerc and 780,563 others

tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: thank you dad, you picked a good one x

view all commments

user35: i'm so jealous rn don't hit me up

danielricciardo: i think you picked THE ONE

yourusername: he's never going to shut up about this but i'll deal with it to be with you

danielricciardo: i'm blushing y/n

yourusername: i can make you do a lot more than blush

maxverstappen1: CHILDREN PRESENT

user36: this shit is like a straight up fairytale, christian should actually go into professional matchmaking

user37: girl yeah this match was made in heaven but we all know it's because christian LOVES daniel as well

user38: he's been gagging for daniel to be his son in law since like 2014

landonorris: thank god this happened, this man was PINING for so fucking long

danielricciardo: okay like no need to blast me

yourusername: omg you pined too, suddenly i'm not as much of a loser as i once thought

danielricciardo: you were never a loser babe

landonorris: maybe you were if you had a crush on him in 2014

danielricciardo: LANDO I WAS A CATCH IN 2014

yourusername: you've always been a catch babe don't worry

christianhorner: i know what i'm doing, i'm glad you're finally happy

yourusername: thank you dad xx

danielricciardo: thank you soon to be dad xx

user39: WHAT

danielricciardo

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1 and 1,304,766 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: i drove in your dad's wedding, but it'll be ours next

view all comments

user39: i think i heard christian's screams of joy all the way from the other side of the world

christianhorner: so happy for you two

danielricciardo: thank you so much for having faith in me

christianhorner: i know you'll treat her well and i know she'll treat you well, i'm excited to have you in the family

yourusername: awwww dad you're such a sap

maxverstappen1: do i need to marry into the family to still be invited to horner events?

christianhorner: no you're still invited max

yourusername: dad's golden boys will always have invites so you're safe max - bring seb to the next one too

user40: not all of the golden boys having championships other than daniel

danielricciardo: still ended up with the best prize in the end

yourusername: DANNY oh wow....

danielricciardo: not wrong though, i have no regrets because it all led to you

landonorris: @christianhorner i am painfully single please help

christianhorner: i'm not a miracle worker

yourusername: horners take no prisoners

note: pls enjoy this lil one, i did this as a palate cleanser before i get to p3 of into the arms of another and all the dragging that's about to come

[ssentimentals]

im so glad that i found your blog, was looking for some wholesome texts with reader/seungcheol and yours are so nicely written, i enjoy them so much! thank you 🫶🏻 if i could leave a request, i'd love to read something where reader is a foreigner and some miscommunication happens but solved without much drama (with help of vernon or shua maybe). thank you for your blog once again!

awwww this is so cute!! thank you so much for your kind words anonie, i'm happy you're enjoying this blog <3 and of course you can leave a request, hopefully you'll like it!

seungcheol + foreigner!reader

no matter how hard he tried, seungcheol couldn't pinpoint how something so small escalated at rapid speed and turned into a full blown argument which left you both angry and offended. he can't even remember how it started, doesn't have any idea on what even caused you two to start arguing. the whole part of 'not seeing eye to eye' is generally an unfamiliar concept for your relationships, so seungcheol really has a hard time grasping the reality of you not talking to him. it hurts too bad, hurts much stronger than he expected; cheol knows that fights happen and that it's normal, but somehow he still thought that you two will be spared from this.

'she's not picking up?' vernon asks and seungcheol shakes his head. 'and she's not at home?'

'she's at the gym.' seungcheol answers. by this point he learned your schedule by heart. 'should be back home in thirty minutes or so.'

this is ridicilous. both the argument and his moping. cheol knew very well that coming from different cultural backgrounds will echo in the relationships dynamic one way or another: different past, upbringing, culture, language have a huge impact on the personalities and views. he was ready for some tension but you both settled into this relationship so smoothly that he honestly forgot about cultural differences. he should've known that they'll pop on in some way.

'go over it with me again.' seungcheol asks, sighing. 'from the scratch and make it logical, please. start with what i did wrong then move to why it was incorrect.'

vernon, god bless him, is not tired of explaining again. he was the first person seungcheol called to when all of this happened and his younger friend agreed to help readily. in a calm tone vernon helps seungcheol understand your angle, how his words that held no malice intent managed to come out wrong. 'it's not that big of a deal though,' vernon adds, seeing how seungcheol frowned even deeper. 'i mean, it's not ideal but like, it happens, it's okay. there's no way you could've known, so it's normal.'

'even so, it sucks.' seungcheol sighs, rubbing his eyes. he understands that you two just got a bit too emotional over everything, but he still feels a huge sense of guilt on his shoulders.

'i promise you it's not that big of a deal.' vernon reassures.

seungcheol nods. even if it's not that big of a deal having you not to talk him is the worst thing that could ever happen. he gets up, dusting his jeans off. vernon eyes him carefully and then smiles. 'you good?'

'yeah. gotta go and make it right.'

seungcheol waits for around ten minutes in front of your house when he notices your lonely figure in the distance. clad in your workout gear, he can see even from there that you're sulking, walking in a slow speed. without thinking twice, seungcheol runs to meet you, his legs carrying him faster than wind to your side. when you notice him you pause at first and he almost thinks that he is fucking up here too, but then you start running towards him and oh. oh.

'baby,' seungcheol breathes out, catching you when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his hips. with strong hands he stabilizes you, holding you securely close to his chest. 'baby, my baby.'

'cheollie,' you mutter, hugging him tight. 'i'm so-'

'no, shh,' seungcheol interrupts. 'it's me who's sorry, okay? i am sorry, i didn't know. i promise i didn't know-'

'i know!' you lean back and hit him lightly at the shoulder. 'let me finish! i know that you had no idea, cheol. i'm sorry for reacting the way i did.'

seungcheol breathes out in relief. he really got incredibly lucky with you, huh? 'i'd never say anything intentionally hurtful to you,' he promises sincerely, making you smile softly. 'never, baby. hurting you will hurt me more.'

'i know,' you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. 'i know, cheol.'

'i love you,' seungcheol whispers. 'so much, babygirl. so much.'

you giggle and instead of answering, kiss him sweetly on the lips.

a/n: hope it was fine!! let me know what you think :') - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙gf effect | FA14 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: fernando alonso x gardener/plant girl!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: none just fluff

summary: in which everyone notices the effects you and your boyfriend have had on each other

a/n: HII it's jus a short one :))) but i like this one so cute i thought short but sweet was the way to go!!

request!!!: Can you maybe possibly please write a smau soft launch and Fernando and his gf but she’s the one that got him into his gardening obsession lol? Like maybe she’s a florist or really likes to garden tysmmm

my masterlist

instagram ->

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by lance_stroll, yourusername, and 717,293 others

fernandoalo_oficial green green and more green

view all 11,283 comments

user1 omg this is so cute & wholesome 😭

astonmartinf1 our favourite colour 💚!

user2 OMG has he got a gardening gf

user3 he's so bf tbh

lance_stroll our favourite driver turned gardener 👍

yourusername you can come over and help us lance, you will enjoy it it is very calming :)

lance_stroll totally 💯

user4 IS THAT THE GF

user5 omg soft launch much

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, carlossainz55, and 88,174 others

yourusername 🪴 same old

view all 6,283 comments

user6 omg this is life changing

lance_stroll is your favourite colour green

yourusername not sure where you got that assumption from?

user7 she's so princess

user8 new fav wag

fernandoalo_oficial 💚

liked by yourusername

user9 omg im srsly obsessed with them???

twitter ->

instagram ->

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, astonmartinf1, and 619,283 others

fernandoalo_oficial 🍓 🌼 🐱

view all 13,812 comments

user11 GF EFFECT

user12 omg this post is crazy LOL

user13 the most i have a gf now coded post ever

user14 girlfriend effect girlfriend effect girlfriend effect

lance_stroll they're saying gf effect 😂

fernandoalo_oficial is this a bad thing???

yourusername not ever!

user15 AWWWW NO WE LOVE ITTT

user16 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

yourusername 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen1, and 516,183 others

yourusername & what about boyfriend effect?!

view all 8,057 comments

user17 omg so much to unpack here

user18 AHHH I LOVE THEM

user19 the last pic 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user20 THE SOCKS I SCREAMED

landonorris my parents

yourusername lil lando 🫶

carlossainz55 you can stop rubbing it in now!!

yourusername sorryyy, i've caught the luv bug 🐛

user21 omg she's seriously cute

user22 bf effect is in full force ur right y/n

liked by yourusername, fernandoalo_oficial

fernandoalo_oficial i love you 💚

yourusername i love you (obviously)

THE END 💚

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂

description: ona was finally where she had dreamed, she was back at barcelona with her best friend and loving every moment. only problem? she's dating her captain's younger sister, you.

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ona batlle x putellas!reader

part of the 'hidden' universe

part two here

part three here

mapi leon x bronze!reader here

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive - cuteness, queenie needing to use google translate because her Spanish is sub par! x

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted

liked by alexiaputellas, taylorswift, and 13.9m others

y/n life dumppppp 💕💕

comments limited

alexiaputellas: Estoy muy orgulloso de ti hermanita!

so proud of you baby sister

^

y/n: ily !! 💕

lucybronze: The little one of me says you're cool!

^

y/n: tell her I miss her! 😔

blanca_suarez: my little daughter! 🙂

^

y/n: my movie mama!! 😙

florencepugh: I wanna see the photos of after you did that jump

^

y/n: shut up 😩

^

florencepugh: no

^

y/n: I'll fight you Flo

^

florencepugh: come at me pipsqueak !!

ona.batlle: Looks like fun ! 😌

^

y/n: Would be more fun with you here ;)

^

alexiaputellas: y/n, no flirting with my teammates.

^

y/n: awwww :(

MariaLeonn16: MISS YOU ! 💙

^

y/n: MISS BAGHEERA MORE 💙

^

MariaLeonn16: hmmpf.

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n hummed as she stepped around her kitchen, her fluffy socks keeping her feet warm from the cold tile, which was cold as she couldn't be bothered to put the heated floor on.

Her Persian cat, Milo, rubbed against her feet and she smiled, bending down to pick him up and press a kiss to his fluffy head before placing him back down.

y/n then moved over to the bowl of food she had ordered, smiling when her phone lit up with the familiar name which kept her warm for almost a year now.

"Hi baby!" y/n smiles, her Spanish accent not as thick as it used to be when she spoke English.

y/n had been in England for a few years now, on and off, and due to the fact she mainly spoke in English and acted with either English or Americans, y/n's accent had dulled slightly.

"Hola!" Ona called back.

The two had been secretly dating for nearly a year now. Why secretly? Because Ona's captain was Alexia Putellas. Alexia Putellas was y/n's sister. Her over-protective older sister.

The two were aware they were nothing short of fucked. They were aware of that. But the two had fallen in love while Ona was playing in Manchester and at the time, they couldn't keep away.

Now, their relationship existed of long phone calls and sneaky hook-ups when y/n came to see her as best she could, as well as trying to avoid flashing cameras and nosy people.

Truth is the only other person to know about them was Lucy Bronze's younger sister, and that was only because Ona and her were best friends and she was dating Mapi Leon in secret as well. They really were a group.

"How was training?" y/n asks Ona as she settles on the sofa, propping the phone up on a few cushions as she bought her bowl of noodles toward her.

"Aburrida, todo en lo que estaba pensando era en ti mi amor." Ona sighs and y/n chuckles.

Boring. All I was thinking about was you my love.

"Eres tan romántica!" y/n laughs at her girlfriend.

you're such a romantic.

"Do not pretend you do not love it, mi amor." Ona says and y/n hums.

"Well, I do love feeling the way you make me feel." y/n sighs jokingly and Ona's smile widens. "But, you should be paying attention in training." y/n finishes and Ona huffs.

"Ay! You are worse than Ale!" Ona states and y/n sighs. "What are you eating?" Ona then asks, trying to get the focus off of Alexia.

"Wagamama." y/n grinned, Milo jumping next to her and curling onto the sofa, his head resting on y/n's thigh.

"Milo." Ona cooed, the cat looking up and letting out a small meow as he blinked at Ona.

"Look, it's mama Milo." y/n says softly, placing her fork down to stroke at the cat's head. Ona smiles softly as Milo meows, Ona chuckling as she moves to get Coco, her own dog who pants excitedly at the sight of Milo.

Despite being and cat and a dog the two pets got on like siblings and y/n couldn't help but smile as Milo purred at the sight of his sibling.

The two facetimed for the rest of the evening, settling into bed a few hours later, both watching each other on their screens, wishing they were face to face instead of watching through a camera.

"What are you thinking about Amor?" Ona asks softly, noticing y/n had gone quiet.

"Quiero contarle a Ale sobre nosotras." y/n said quickly.

I want to tell Ale about us.

"¿Cómo? No no no no no." Ona begins and y/n sighs.

what?

"I know you're afraid." y/n begins. "¡Pero cariño, por favor! No puedo ocultar esto más."

But darling please, I can't hide this anymore.

"But Alexia!" Ona tries.

"I'll talk to her! Explain everything." y/n tries and Ona pauses. "Please Ona, I'm so sick of us hiding." She begs softly.

"Okay. Okay." Ona promises. "Por ti, mi amor, enfrentaré la tormenta Alexia por ti." She nods and a soft smile grows on y/n's face.

For you, my love, I will brave the storm Alexia for you.

"Thank you." y/n whispers. "I love you Ona." She promises and Ona smiles.

"I love you too amor." Ona promises.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n smiled softly as she opened Alexia's apartment with her spare key. Now on international break, the Barcelona captain was at home resting before having to go to national camp in three days.

At the sound of her door opening, Alexia stood up, pausing the most recent Barcelona game she was re-watching for notes and faced her door worriedly before her mouth dropped.

"¡Niñera!" Alexia called in shock.

Baby sister

"Hola Ale!" y/n called, pulling her suitcase to a stop as Alexia raced over. The taller girl pulling her into a tight hug which made y/n chuckle as she returned it.

"¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" Alexia asked. "Ven, siéntate, ¿tienes hambre, sed?" Alexia rapidly questioned making y/n smile as her sister dragged her to the sofa.

What are you doing here? Come sit down, are you hungry, thirsty?

"Estoy bien, vine a ver los partidos de la liga de naciones." y/n explains.

I'm fine, I came to watch the nation league games.

Alexia makes a noise of understanding as she leans over and presses kisses over y/n's face, exclaiming how happy she was to see her and how beautiful she looked.

y/n laughed it off, telling her she was always too flattering to her, Alexia saying it was what an older sister did. The statement wracking y/n with guilt.

"Ale." y/n began. Alexia looking at her with furrowed brows, confused at her sister's shift in tone.

"Are you okay?" Alexia asks softly.

"I'm dating someone." y/n spills out. "And, hemos estado saliendo durante más de un año." y/n admits.

And we've been dating over a year.

"Oh." Alexia says softly, eyes softening as her sister ducks her head, fiddling with her fingers. "It's okay." She promises.

"Even if I hid it?" y/n asks quietly.

"I would like you to explain why for so long and who, but yes it is okay." Alexia promises.

"The who kind of explains the why." y/n admits and Alexia pauses. "Ale." She begins.

"Who?" She asks, though it was far more a demand. She repeats her demand.

"Ona." y/n says ducking her head.

"Hijo de puta." Alexia mutters.

motherfucker

y/n sighed, leaning forward and putting her head in her hands and her shoulders sagged. Her heart felt as if it was pushing into her throat and it made her sick.

y/n and Alexia had been close as children, the three sisters were best friends, and knew each other too well. They told each other everything, to the point where this would be the first time she had ever lied to either sister.

And even though she felt terrible for upsetting her older sister, for betraying her, there was something so relieving about finally admitting it.

Slowly, Alexia reached out and place a hand on y/n's shoulder, her warm and calloused palm so much kinder than what y/n felt she deserved as she looked up.

"No puedo negarlo y decir que no estoy herido, porque lo estoy. Preferiría que me lo hubieras dicho, pero entiendo que no quieras." Alexia begins, her voice soft.

I cannot deny and say I am not hurt, because I am. I would rather you had told me, but I understand you not wanting to.

y/n could have cried as she closed her eyes, feeling so guilty at hurting her sister with something that she couldn't have helped.

"¿La amas?" Alexia asked, her eyes full of understanding and kindness which calmed y/n's heart.

Do you love her?

"Más de lo que creía posible Ale. Ella lo es todo para mí, de verdad." y/n admits to her sister who lets out a sigh at the emotion in her voice.

More than I thought possible Ale. She's everything to me, truly.

Alexia sighed and wrapped her arm around y/n's shoulders, pulling her into her side as she lent her head onto y/n's own one, inhaling the smell of her shampoo.

"Entonces de acuerdo." Alexia sighs softly.

Then okay.

y/n's heart broke at that, how one person could be so good to her was beyond her thought, beyond her idea of humanity, but Alexia had once again, proved her wrong.

"Eres demasiado amable conmigo, eres demasiado amable conmigo." y/n repeats at her sister.

You are too kind to me, you are too kind to me.

"Esto no es bondad, esto es familia." Alexia says to her and y/n sighs.

This is not kindness, this is family.

The girl turns, wrapping her arms around her sister as she pulls herself snugly on-top of Alexia, clinging to her shoulders as she pressed kisses into the woman's hair.

"Thank you Ale." y/n said softly, repeating the words again and again.

"Oh mi pequeña princesa del drama. Eres tan mayor ahora." Alexia said softly.

Oh my little drama princess. You are so grown up now.

y/n said nothing, just continued to cling to Alexia as if she was 6 all over again and Alexia 14. The Barcelona captain couldn't help but enjoy the closeness.

It had been so long since they had hugged like this, the youngest Putellas always so busy, always moving, working and filming.

Eventually the two parted and Alexia sighed tucking a strand of her sister's hair behind her ear as she watched her.

"Do you and Ona plan to tell?" Alexia asks and y/n hums.

"I want to tell your team first, then we can think about everything else." y/n sighs. "Are you mad at her?" She then asks with a wince.

"Oh furious." Alexia nods, a smile on her face to show she wasn't really. "She treats you well?" She then asks and y/n smiles softly.

"She loves me just as I do her." y/n answers and Alexia smiles.

"So she loves you well." Alexia says and y/n nods. "Do you want to see her?" She asks and y/n hums.

"Tomorrow." y/n says before snuggling into her sister's side. "I want to spend the night with you." She says.

"I love that idea." Alexia sighs, pressing a kiss into her sister's hair.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Tomorrow came far too quick for y/n's liking, before she knew it she was stood at Ona's door, flowers in hand as she waited for the patter of her lover's footsteps to open the door.

"¡Mi amor!" Ona yelled in shock, dragging y/n inside so no prying eyes could see.

y/n's hair was up in a bun, she was wearing a sweet summer dress due to how hot it was outside, however she also had shorts on underneath, because she knew what could happen once Ona knew they were out.

Ona smiled softly, taking the flowers from y/n's hands and placing them on the counter, before jumping at y/n. The woman sighed in relief, bringing Ona's legs around her waist as she wrapped her arms tightly around her.

"Oh my love." y/n said softly, breathing in the sweet scent of Ona's hair.

Ona buried her head into y/n's neck, pressing soft kisses against the skin which had y/n breathing shaking as she walked them to the sofa, sliding her shoes off as she went.

Coco immediately moved over to one of her discarded trainers and stuck his head in it, inhaling which made y/n roll her eyes at the dog fondly.

y/n sat back against the sofa, Ona quickly looking up and greedily connecting their lips, hands scattering around each other's bodies, re-familiarising themselves.

Ona's tongue dipped past y/n's lips, sweeping the inside of her mouth which caused a groan to slip from her. Ona giggled into the kiss, before they pulled away, both breathing deeply as they stared at one another.

Ona was in a white shirt, black shorts, her hair was pulled back and she looked like she had woken up just an hour ago. And to y/n, she had never looked more beautiful.

All their time apart meant these moment, Ona sat on her lap, hands combing over her shoulders lovingly, were all that more precious to y/n.

"How are you here?" Ona asked her softly, leaning forward to cuddle into her chest as y/n wraps her arms around her.

"He venido a ver los partidos." y/n explains softly.

I've come to watch the games.

"I'm so glad you're here." Ona sighs in relief, y/n holding onto her as she sighs.

"I have a confession Ona." y/n says softly and Ona sits up, y/n moving her off her lap and to the side she could face her.

"Amor?" Ona asks, worry flooding her voice.

"Ale knows." y/n says simply. "I told her." She adds.

Ona's face goes through several emotions, relief that this wasn't a break-up, fear of Alexia knowing, realisation that her captain was no aware and hurt that y/n hadn't warned her she would tell Alexia like that.

"Why?" Ona asks sadly.

"Because I want to be with you. In front of her." y/n says strongly and Ona's eyes fill with panic. "It's like we discussed Oni, please." y/n tries.

"Get out." She says softly. "Please go." Ona repeats.

"You said you would fight for me." y/n said softly.

"You didn't give me time to prepare." Ona tells her. "Alexia is my captain, and I am with her little sister, and instead of telling her together, you decided to tell her on you own." Ona continues.

"Because I knew I could keep her calm about us." y/n promises and Ona sighs.

"Please go. I need some time." Ona says softly and y/n blinks away tears before standing up and walking to the door, expecting Ona to call out, stop her. But she doesn't.

And y/n's heart breaks.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

END

Mapi part one will be out in three days ;) xox

[majoryeager104]

dabi with a user who gets cold easily? :33

Awwww this is gonna be so cute okay <3

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“You’re shivering again”

“really?”

“Yeah, you’re shakin’ like a drug addict”

“gee, didn’t notice”

You shivered again, glancing around the room at the heater. It wasn’t out, but it was crappy and old and didn’t seem to work well. The league had found this place on a rather cold night, snow billowing over the sidewalk just outside, and here you were still freezing your butt off even inside. Everyone else seemed to be fine, especially Dabi, but when wasn’t he? And now here he sat next to you with that dumb grin on his face teasing you as usual. He couldn’t help it, really, not when you looked just adorable shivering like that.

And yet, his little playful jabs hit the wrong nerves, and you pouted and crossed your arms, the latter being less of a sign of agitation and more of you trying to keep yourself warm. Dabi looked up at the other members- all busy either talking or gaming or scrolling on their phones- before rolling his eyes.

You see, the two of you had been seeing each other for a while, and he had no intention of making this fact too public. He knew the rest of the league (Toga) would pry, and he didn’t want it ‘getting in the way’ of his missions (a doubt planted by an unknowing Shigaraki)

Still, watching you shiver with that pout on your face, he couldn’t help but let that smile melt into something far more real as he moved closer and wrapped an arm around you. It almost startled you how much heat radiated off of him; every time he touched you it was a shock, but this time, a well welcomed one.

You looked up at him- not missing that soft gaze that held yours- before smiling yourself and settling in under his arm. He scoffed, trying to sound annoyed despite the smile on his face. Eventually he leaned his head back against the back of the couch, his eyes shutting. Something about feeling you under his arm that made him feel…safe, in a number of ways. Before he knew it, he was falling asleep.

You noticed, looking up at him, nervous to move for fear you’d wake him. You knew how little sleep he got, just what his physical trauma had caused him, and so you stayed quiet and let him sleep, smiling to yourself at not only his warmth but the soft smile that still lingered on his face.

Dabi’s sleep was rather gently disturbed sometime later. The heater had sputtered out and died, and despite him not noticing as much, he seemed to be the one carrying the load of the machine, because when he opened his eyes the remaining league members in the room were huddled around him.

Shigaraki sat next to him with his arms crossed, shrugging. Toga lay across the back of the couch with her head on his shoulder, twice was rubbing his hands and sticking them towards Dabi in a rather dramatic attempt for warmth. Magne was over by the heater attempting to repair it with Compress, both of whom were huddled in blankets and looking over at the warm pile around Dabi rather longingly… and then there was you, fast asleep under his arm. He blushed, rolling his eyes once more

“you people are such daisies…” he muttered, glancing around at them.

“bet you didn’t say that to y/n!” Toga teased, practically in his ear, causing him to flinch for a moment, scoffing. “No. No I didn’t. Gonna sue?” He retaliated, nudging her head off his shoulder. “Nope, just gonna tell ya that y/n told us we could huddle around you like a campfire after the heater went out”

Dabi’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced down at you, but soon his expression softened when he saw how peaceful you looked.

“Of course they did..”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

I think I’ve used this song like recently but I LOVE IT so I’m using it anyway 😌👌

[siriusly-parker]

—ino takuma as a boyfriend.

requested! ino takuma bf head canons. ʚ m.list ᵎᵎ

ino would be such a loving and expressive boyfriend. he’s not scared to show his love, to you or to the world. he feeds off old ladies on the street voicing their awwww's and you guys are so cute's. he doesn’t mind being their image of young love. because that’s what he is, young, and deeply in love with you. ino’s into pda, but not in a “let’s make out in the middle of public transport” way, but small displays of affection that only matter to you (and those who are really looking for it). he’ll always have a hand on you, just to make sure he’s not dreaming of a perfect girl and you’re truly there. resting on your thigh, holding your hand, on the small of your back. it’s also a way to keep you safe, to show you the way to the right table through a small restaurant, or not to lose you in a big crowd. he’ll steal kisses here and there when no one’s looking (or at least he thinks, because he’s not that slick and the underclassmen always catch him, yuuji and nobara giggling and megumi and maki rolling their eyes). he’s the kind to stare, mainly whenever your own eyes are focused on something else. he loves watching your eyebrows pull together in confusion during one of nanami’s complicated explanations or your glimmering eyes as you impatiently wait for the two characters, in the shojo you barely forced him to watch with you, to finally share a kiss. he’ll always indulge in your every little desire, be it a late night snack or a romantic movie (not that he needed much convincing, he did quite enjoy those, but he’s never tell you that, loving the way you put on your prettiest doe eyes and pouty lips to beg him to join you). if he ever feels like you’re sitting a little too far from him during a movie (which for him means, anything other than you being impossibly close to him), he’ll pull you into his lap without a word. he does have the tendency to manhandle you like that, but you’ve become so used to it, your eyes don’t leave the tv. you may crack a smile or steal a kiss here and there. sometimes though, he still makes you nervous, so you giggle as you hide in the crook of his neck, not paying any mind to the flashing lights of the television in the after-shock of his quick motion. takuma lives for moments like these, where you’re so close he can smell your perfume and caress your hair. he just loves to take care of you. if ino takuma could merge his body with yours, he most definitely would. there’s no “being too close” to you. 

꩜ likes, comments + reblogs are very appreciated!!

[keerysfreckles]

espresso — CL16 (smau)

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!fem!reader faceclaim: sabrina carpenter!

summary: when y/n releases a new song, fans can't help but think it could be about a certain f1 driver

warnings: like one curse word

a/n: ALL THE LANDO CONTENT TODAY IM SO DEAD

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by charles_leclerc, bffusername and 503,699 others

yourusername japan i am in you!

view all comments

user1 GORGEOUS!!!!!!! 🤍🤍

bffusername serving again as usual 💅

user2 charles what are you doing here 🤨

user3 right before the japanese gp omg 🤭

user4 when she's a supportive bsf >>>

charles_leclerc why would you let me wear two glasses at once

yourusername what! you looked cute!

user5 they're never beating the dating allegations 🤭🤭

user6 the fact they always ride together whenever she can attend a race is so cute to me

user7 all the y/n content we're gonna get this weekend omg im SAT

charles_leclerc just posted !

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 740,215 others

charles_leclerc japan you were absolutely beautiful. happy with p4, and honoured to recieve driver of the day ❤️🇯🇵

view all comments

user1 so proud of you charles!!

user2 jules is so incredibly proud ❤️❤️

user3 you'll smash the next one 🫶🏻

carlossainz55 proud of you c ❤️‍🩹

user4 the last slide y/n's so cute 🫠🫠

yourusername was cheering you on the whole time!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc wouldn't want it any other way love

scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️

user5 definitely worth staying up till 2 am

user6 2... try 4 am 😀😀

yourusername just posted !

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 571,280 others

yourusername when he cooks, gets me a giant bunny AND has a private jet

view all comments

user1 he's so bf coded 😣😣

user2 HE BOUGHT THE BUNNY AWWWW

landonorris the bunny looks bigger than you

yourusername lan stfu pls

user3 THE FIRST PIC IM SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM.....

user4 she's just using him for his money and fame istg 🙄

user5 girl- 💀 she's famous herself, and they've been close for three years now

carlossainz55 he was struggling getting that bunny into his car

charles_leclerc no i was not

bffusername CHECK YOUR TEXTS RN

yourusername 🫡🫡

charles_leclerc i guess you can say i like your comapny

yourusername gee thanks charles, making me feel so appreciated

imessage between y/n and bffname !

yourusername just posted !

liked by bffusername, charlesleclerc and 621,084 others

yourusername i know i mountain dew it for ya!

view all comments

user1 Y/N WHAT 😀😄😀

bffusername thats my girl!!!!!!!!!!

user2 BANDANA CHARLES IS BACK???????

user3 new song lyrics??

user4 we can only hope 🤞

user5 MY JAW IS DROPPED

charles_leclerc that morning coffee, brewed it for ya

yourusername 🤭🤭

user6 PARDON????????

user7 is HAS to be song lyrics

landonorris so you'll spend time im monaco with him but not me ☹️

yourusername well yes!

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 744,029 others

yourusername surprise!!!! espresso out now!!!!! 🤍☕️

view all comments

user1 ON A RANDOM WEDNESDAY REALLY

user2 THE CHORUS IS SO CATCHY OMG

user3 "i'm working late cause i'm a singer, oh he looks so cute wrapped round my finger" I AM BAFFLED OH THESE LYRICS ARE SO JFBSJDHSJ

user4 she posted with charles with lyrics to the song.. the song HAS to be about him

user5 charles made a tiktok with the song I REPEAT CHARLES MADE A TIKTOK WITH THE SONG

landonorris you coffee addict 🫵🏼

yourusername what about it? 🤗

user6 need to know charles' reaction of the song asap

charles_leclerc 🩵🩵🩵

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by charles_leclerc, bffusername and 901,336 others

yourusername so if i write a song about espressos, i get a boyfriend? okay 😊😊

view all comments

user1 THE CAPTION PLS 😭

bffusername FINALLY!!!!!!!

yourusername you shut it.

user2 im so ready for the millions of couples posts we're about to get

user3 i've never needed my favs to date so bad

landonorris the math isn't mathing

yourusername .....

user4 THE FIRST PIC AND THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER 🥹🥹🥹

charles_leclerc i think it's a pretty fair trade

yourusername yeah cause you got a hot girlfriend 🤷🏼‍♀️

bffusername WHEN SHE KNOWS HER WORTH 🙌🏻🙌🏻

charles_leclerc just posted !

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,206,599 others

charles_leclerc she's right, i am wrapped around her finger 🤍

view all comments

user1 ALREADY CRUSHING THE COUPLES POSTS

yourusername baby 🥹🥹🥹🥹

charles_leclerc je t'aime mon cher (i love you my dear)

yourusername shit i gotta learn french now

user2 THEYRE SO CUTE SHUT UP 😭😭

user3 THE CAPTION!!!!!!!

bffusername you better be treating her right

charles_leclerc 🫡

landonorris parents

charles_leclerc ???

yourusername lando you and i are the same age..

user4 i want what they have 😞😞😞

[ladyannemarie5]

I finally got to watch “The Witcher: Sirens of the Deep” again, so here's the third part of:

Things we learned/confirmed about our bard in “The Witcher: Sirens of the deep”

Geralt is always ready to protect his bard on hunts.

He and Geralt share the coins from the hunts and his performances as a bard (awww like in the fanfics). 

He often suffers from financial problems thanks to sharing Geralt's coin and moral code (but he never leaves him alone)

Geralt lets Jaskier touch him as he pleases even though physically Jaskier couldn't move an inch of the witcher if Geralt didn't want to (you know, that scene at the beginning where they're in the tavern, Geralt gets up to leave and Jaskier with a firm hand on his shoulder puts him back in his sit)

He went to Bremervoord, his old town where no one appreciated him and he suffered from bullying and from which he fled so desperately to be himself, just because Geralt was avoiding you-know-who.

He never misses an opportunity to badmouth Yennefer LOL.

He was the driver of the carriage on Ellander's trip to Möen that Yennefer was talking about in S3E1 where she and Geralt did everything but talk (to be honest, I'm not really sure on this point but in the scene where the driver is seen steering the carriage you can see a blue doublet that may be Jaskier's trademark, but maybe I'm just projecting my bard on everything LOL)

It's Jaskier The Bard, The Song Don of Oxenfurt, The Crooner of the Continent

Essi “Little eye” is like Jaskier's little sister and the bard's #1 defender (Sooo cute and sad considering that probably, and following canon, that was the last time Jaskier saw Essi)

Geralt only learned that “Julian” was the bard's real name 20 years later. 

He used to say he was originally from Oxenfurt (considering this point, it makes me wonder at what point the Viscount of Lettenhove thing came in).

He was meant to be a man of the sea, but he was “creative and different and they treated him horrible because of that” (MY SHYLAAAAAA, I liked that they gave more lore to his past, is it better than what I've read in fanfics? I don't think so, but it's appreciated anyway)

He's a superstar, master of the scene (we already knew this but it never hurts to remember it).

Jaskier steals Geralt's beer 

Geralt is quite used to Jaskier's nonsense and dramatics (that scene where Jaskier spits out the beer, which he took from Geralt, for knowing that Essi is a bard and the witcher just shakes the drink off without blinking)

“If you know my name, it's because you know his songs” (What the hell???? Geralt was so ready to defend his bard's honor).

Jaskier is Geralt's official wingman (he just doesn't want him to be with Yennefer). 

Geralt hunts and cooks for him (awwww)

Jaskier doesn't like Geralt's cooking.

Jaskier knows that Geralt has a big heart and is a softie. 

And there was only one tent, Geralt sleeps outside the tent (probably to keep watch, but there's no way they haven't shared a tent at least once)

Jaskier is a very heavy sleeper

As a bard, he is aware of political, social and economic issues in many parts of the Continent (which helped Geralt to solve the Sirens' problem). 

He is the beauty and moral support in the team (he is gorgeous).

Geralt removes Jaskier from the path of danger (that scene where Melusina in the form of the princess goes for Geralt and he removes Jaskier)

No matter what anyone says, Jaskier solved the case. 

Moral support of Geralt when they call him “sewer cleaner”. 

“And yet, for all the talk of Witchers lacking emotions, I know how to hurt you *proceeds to order Jaskier's death.

Jaskier was already saying goodbye to Geralt and blaming himself for returning to Bremervoord.

Jaskier may always be the damsel in distress, but when the situation calls for it he knows how to use a sword and fight in spite of his fears (keep the swords away from the bard when he is shocked and scared)

Zelest, welcome to Jaskier's harem.

Despite all the drama and commotion in the fights, Geralt constantly checks that his bard is alive and well, always ready to drop everything and help if needed.

Jaskier is quite used to Geralt's favorite technique of being eaten.

Jaskier has been to many royal weddings 

Jaskier gave up his life and everything he knew in order to fulfill his dream of being a bard (and he made the right decision) 

“But for now, looks like Jaskier will have to do” (To be honest, I don't know how to take this lol).

Jaskier is the one who decides where to go in his adventures with Geralt. 

The whole Sirens of the deep is set immediately before the dragon hunt (and that breaks my heart)

And last but not least, Joey Batey is the love of my life (and I love that they respected his incredibly blue eyes). 

(I didn't think this would turn out to be so long but here we are, sorry for the verbal vomit).

You can check the previous parts here and here

[azulaaaaaaah]

rating every zuko ship (cause that mf is shipped with everyone)

CLICKBAIT!!! this isn’t every zuko ship just the main ones i immediately lied lol. idk if any of these are hot takes or not but please don’t crucify me (might do a part 2 where it’s azula ships)

Jinko - Zuko/Jin

6/10

awwww it’s cute (for what it is)

and what it is was one singular date that was never really mentioned again

i really appreciate how jin is so unperturbed by zuko’s awkward angst and just genuinely likes him

howevvver she’s kinda one dimensional (as she’s only in like an episode) and i just don’t see this going anywhere longterm

less a ship, more a vehicle for zuko’s character development lol

Jetko- Zuko/Jet

3/10

jet being zuko’s first gay encounter is canon in my eyes

don’t ship them however cause i hate jet with the fire of a thousands suns

similar issues to jin as well where their interactions are extremely limited so personally have no clue how this could be a long term thing

Maiko- Zuko/Mai

5/10

i am so impartial on this ship it’s not even funny.

i get that it’s canon. i get that izumi looks suspiciously like mai so it’s endgame. i just don’t see HOW?? it feels as if the writers realised zutara was becoming popular and were like ‘OH SHIT WE GOTTA DEFUSE THIS SITUATION SOMEHOW’

their relationship is basically just mai being a cold asshole and zuko being an angry asshole and there’s no change or development between EITHER OF THEM

however when they’re cute they’re cute !!!!

‘i love zuko more than i fear you’ COLDEST LINE EVER

however again it’s like - you had a crush on him as a kid. he was BANISHED. you dated for like a month as teens. you argued the whole time. he left again- and shortly after you saved him from prison, but then you were imprisoned partly due to his actions. you get back together again, he becomes the ruler of a country, and then you’re surprised it’s isolating him/making him even more of an asshole???

on the other hand we as a society need to admit that zuko is weirdly possessive of her (ig that’s a positive if ur a booktok romance girlie but im not). like if i was mai i wouldn’t put up with that toxic shit either

at the end of the day, i honestly don’t care that they’re canon lol- but i think they’d probably best as a bitchy best friend duo

Zukaang - Zuko/Aang

1/10

not round here partner. not round here

my first issue is the age gap is objectively extremely weird if examined in canon. leaving it at that

i get that this is grumpy x sunshine in a way the other ships aren’t to me- but we’ve only ever seen these two characters interact with each other when there’s (again) A WEIRD AGE GAP

they are bros in the least homosexual way possible

the cherry on top of this situation is: isn’t aang the reincarnation of his great grandpa? isn’t that giving slight, uh, inc*st vibes??? imagine if people shipped korra and jinora isn’t that just WEIRD???

Zuki - Zuko/Suki

8/10

is this my most controversial take ???

i am a sucker for bodyguard x royal family dynamics guys

and the fact that this is girlboss x malewife is even BETTER

suki seems the most competent at handling his pissy ass in a way the other people on this list aren’t

like she’s real. she’s not sugarcoating his situation, BUT SHES COMPASSIONATE !!

i don’t like throuples typically but suzukki is even eliter than this, which removes the whole ‘going against the bro code’ element that arises from them being together

also i feel like if you haven’t read the comics this doesnt make sense At All so please do

-2 points for the lack of tangible reason to ship them lol

Zutara - Zuko/Katara

7.5/10

okay this one makes the most logistical sense to me within canon (solely examined as a zuko ship not overall)

it really seems as if they were gonna make this canon and swerved circa book 2

LIKE CMONNNN OG ENEMIES TO LOVERS WHERE THE GUY ACTUALLY HAS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND ISN’T JUST EVIL? FIRE X WATER? ITS INTRIGUING

something about this makes me uncomfortable though. (despite the age gap which again a little weird)

something about katara potentially becoming the fire lady is so… icky. she’s a waterbender. the fire nation tried to systematically erase her kind. her mother is killed by the fire nation because they think she’s a waterbender. and katara…. what, becomes part of the royal family? it just seems wrong, and like something she wouldn’t be into

also i feel like their arguments would be a little too NUCLEAR. there’s like, a 50% chance of divorce

she deserves a better ending than that is all i’m saying

to paraphrase the hunger games: katara has plenty of fire herself. SHE NEEDS THAT DANDELION IN THE SPRING MAN

(i’m a kataang truther)

Zukka - Zuko/Sokka

9/10

my zuko related otp!!!

bros to lovers guys, where zuko falls first but sokka falls HARDER !!!

ik this will never be canon and im happy with that. i know there’s not even a whisper of romance between them in the show, but i just think it’s c u t e .

sokka (like suki) is very likely to call zuko out on his shit, but less likely to lose his own shit (like katara)

this in my heart of hearts is 10/10 however is still problematic in a similar way to zutara

his mother is killed by the fire nation and he (presumably) becomes consort ?

however though, i would still say it’s not as ruhroh as zutara bc firstly, sokka isn’t a waterbender, and secondly, ‘consort’ is a lot more open to interpretation than i think fire lady is. in my opinion a consort ≠ a fire lady, just like irl a consort ≠ a queen. it kinda means he can still be ambassador to the southern water tribe/a leader of his own people, while just so happening to be married to the fire lord.

overall i can’t help but stan a friends to lover ship cmOn now

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 17/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: (Baby Mk trying to wake up macaque) Macaque: Wukong your son's awake Wukong: Before sunrise he's your son. Lol lion King reference

Aaaaaaahhh I love it! I was thinking the same!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I wonder if MK is experiencing any other Yaoguai urges? Besides his crush instincts and fun Monkey habits and behaviors.

mmmmm I think he mostly sometimes starts a tantrum in monkey style, where he starts to move a lot and jumps around

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like do macaque and wukong have rings or anything like now I think it would be cute if they renewed their vow.

I think I need to go study traditional chinese weddings traditions

l@ovingshadowpeaches ha chiesto: Ohhh my gosh i finally have the balls to send you this ask!! I adore your shadowpeach bio parents AU SO SO SO MUCH, your art style is so satisfying and mesmerising to look at, the plot is chefs kiss and I hope you know I LOVE all the soysauce duo content i am being fed and our Macaque introject adores it because the MK he knows is his son and your comic makes him feel a lot more valid and closer to his boy, your comic is so comforting to both him and me. I can't wait to see how it all plays out and I can't express enough how much we love love this comic!! All the love!!! GAH!!!

awww tysm for your ask!!!! :')

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think that is hilarious that macaque yoinked the great sage. Also other demons jealous Mac?!?! I need more jealous mac. I can only imagine it went like, Here is a basket of delicious peaches for your enjoyment. Excuse me while I go beat the shit out this demon for trying to take you away (Not that they could even if they got past Macaque).

hehe meanwhile Wukong's ego grows tenfold

Anonimo ha chiesto: SHADOWPEACH BIO PARENT AU The last question had me saying: what was Pigsy's and Tang's reaction to Mk's l̶o̶v̶e̶r̶ crush on Red Son? And also the court napping thing?

I think at first they didn't believe it, then they realized what happened, and didn't know wheter being shocked or not since they should have absolutely saw it coming.

@vex--lynn ha chiesto: Do you find it crazy how much you've affected the Fandom, like you've taken it by storm! It's kinda like when "Garden across our collarbone" took over the Fandom. In the end, we're left crying happy tears. I'm so happy to have found this comic while it was still being made cause I feel like I'm part of the adventure of these crazy monkies! I wish you nothing but the best for you!! <3

BRO u CAN'T JUST PULL OUT THAT NAME AND MINE IN THE SAME CONTEXT. That fic is like an atomic bomb I'm just a humble artist drawing gay monkies.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just want you to know that your LMK comic is getting me through a really hard time in my life right now. It really helps to have something to smile about and look forward to. Thank you so much for all the recent fluff. It brings me a lot of joy. 💕 Awwww tysm!!

Aww that's so nice to hear!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Okay since mac has 6 sensitive ears... wouldn't be sometimes hard for him...? l mean what if there was very strong noises like fireworks or smt around!? U know what is the best solution for this!! Mac lying down between wukong's arms and put his head on chest and listen to his heartbeat!!! This will absolutely will calm him down right? I WANNA SEE THIS IN YOUR COMICS PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAASS

askjcbaicbasc that's sooooo cute! Maybe, perhaps, in the future, who knows....

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is it slowly building back up to shadowpeach getting back together or? 🤔 idk their relationship status rn

situationship so bad these 2 are sleeping together and have a kid but still are allergic to flirt like normal people.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Got a question about Sun Wukong being trans. I know he probably uses glamour to hide his ✨✨boobies✨✨. But like, is he also using tape or are they kinda just... Out Cause now I'm thinking about the times we've seen him shirtless so like... ???

before he learned to shapeshift he mostly used bandages since that's all he could do at the time. Now MK is teaching him what binders are and he couldn't be more grateful.

@ayrza ha chiesto: I know you may not share it, or even read it, but I need to get it out of me. Do you realize that MK has only had father figures and no mother figures? Which means that the simple word "MAMA" carries too much sentimental weight and that's... 🥹 THIS COULD NOT BE MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN YOU ALREADY MADE IT!!! MY BABY SAID MAMA!!!! 😭✨💖

o my gAAAAHHD I THINK THAT WAS UNINTENTIONAL OF ME BUT THIS CHANGES EVERYTHINGGG

@s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e ha chiesto: question: what does MK call Pigsy and Tang? Anonimo ha chiesto: I love the new post i am crying 😢 😭 But I do have a question is mac mama and wukong Baba, or is wukong Mama and mac baba this is an important question I have for you???

Pigsy is "Dad" and Tang is "Papa". Mac is "Mama" and Wukong is "Baba"

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve seen many many drawings and intereptations of Mac being all piecered, especially on his ears cause if you have six, you gotta use em. Does macaque have any piercings in your au or is his ears too sensitive for that in your mind? Does he like to fidigit with them or any body else?

mmmm he can perfectly have it. I think he would have a few, but only rings and like each of them is far from the others in the lobe area because I can imagine someone with sensitive Hearing wouldn't like to hear the sounds of metal or earrings tingeling every time he moves around.

@alchemical-spill-on-aisle-three ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach comic, is Mei going to help MK with his crush? I just think it would be really funny if they got into hijinks while trying to get MK and Redson together lol

Mei is the one who organized their sparring meetings in the first place. She was Spicynoodle number 1 fan since the beginning.

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: Hmm... if Kai is gonna be MK and Red Son's son does that mean that Nya is gonna be Mei's daughter?

Omg yes. But guys don't tempt me or I might make a "Spicynoodle 50 years later/ninjago crossover" comic the size of the shadowpeach one if we go down this path

Anonimo ha chiesto: If mk is a trans does he still get period?

yes

Anonimo ha chiesto: what is MK’s favorite thing about red boy?

The fact that he tries to hide his emotions but his fire powers reflects them out of his control. MK thinks it's very cute.

Anonimo ha chiesto: So, are you ever going to make a sick episode for the bio dads? I am asking because I am sick, and it would be interesting to see what they are like when sick.

nope sorry. donesn't fit in the current schedule. But MK will go at the hospital at some point if that's of any reassuring.

@sokda-lal-ashes ha chiesto: Do you have why doodles that aren't exactly in the stories but that fits your bio parents au? I love your art so much!! Especially your redson design!!!

Yes but they are spoilers. Sorryyy

Anonimo ha chiesto: Wukong: hay don't forget to eat breakfast. Macaque: what are you talking about I just ate Wukong: you had espresso & anit depressants that is not a meal. Macaque (repeats mocking Wukong) I don't need your judgement I feel like the whole being revived thinks makes macaque sometimes not realize he's hungry or thirsty

ahah how much I relate (I don't take antidepressant but a lot of magnesium bc of mood swings)

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Wait… if macaque gets his power from a lunar eclipse, does that mean that wukong gets his power from a solar eclipse? Bye <3

Anonimo ha chiesto: Oh so I just had a thought! Since the light hair streaks are being caused by a lunar eclipse because Macaque draws his powers from the moon, is the opposite true for Wukong? Are any of his powers from the sun and would something happen if there was a solar eclipse? Love all the world building in your comics its all so good!!!

mmm I don't think that's how it works.

Anonimo ha chiesto: wait, so since the brotherhood knew about Macaque courtnapping Wukong, did they ever have to witness the monstrosity of cuddles and affection you describe Shadowpeach when they’re together? I could only imagine the awkwardness. Or many they’re totally cool with them being open with each other right in front of them. I know th3 brotherhood won’t show up in your comic as you’ve said before but a fan can only dream.

Oh yeah. O yeah they did.

@shamelesschopshopwasteland ha chiesto: How are Macaque and Wukong? Do they spend time with each other outside of sleeping? (Also I love you AU!!! <3)

Macaque still works from time to time to the Dojo in weekdays, and also likes his alone time, but has been spendind more time with Wukong to help the other monkeys and telling stories about what happened in all those years they missed when they were still enemies.

Anonimo ha chiesto: (I LOVE YOUR ART SM IFDJKEWVJHA, make sure to take breaks!!) Considering Macaque doesn't like the cold. (I love that HC so much, especially because I like to HC that he's freezing 24/7 can only warm up with hot springs and touch but not actual heat/the sun) How would Macaque react in a snowstorm/winter. Would he just bundle up a lot or lock himself in a room or something similar?

3 layers of jackets and self-heating socks when he's going around, otherwise Hot springs every evening.

Anonimo ha chiesto: what other nicknames/pet names does SWK and Macaque have for one another beside peaches and plum?

mmm I think Sun and Moon

@patienceandpokemon ha chiesto: Okay, rip my heart out with happiness in P7 of Monkie trio with the moonlight reveal why don't you?! THANK YOU! But in seriousness, in the latest bit . . Are Mac and MK recharging their shadow powers under the moonlight? Is that why Mac never really attacked in season 1-3 in your AU of LMK, unless there had been a full moon prior? Or am I snowballing into unrelated territory? Anywho, love the comic! He's so fucking fluffy and white like a pearl! And MK, baby fluff!!!!!

Wait he actually did it in the series?? I never noticed!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soooooo we know Macaque did the courtnapping for shadowpeach so who did the courtnapping for the demon bull family? PIF or DBK👀

I think PIF did?

@boonalina ha chiesto: Question: In your AU, when exactly did Mac and PIF become sworn siblings? Cuz we know Wuk and Mac were sworn bros with DBK, and then DBK "betrayed" them by getting together with PIF. So when exactly would Mac have become sworn siblings with her? Was it like during the time Wukong was under the mountain or smth? Cuz it does seem like Mac drifted apart from the Brotherhood when Wukong was imprisoned.

this is a fandom headcanon, but I believe it was a little after Wukong was imprisoned, and a little after Macaque was revived

[sturnlsstuff]

Yooo whenever you can, are you down to write something about a reader that constantly gives chris cuteness aggression? <3 thx in advance !!

WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND IS SO CUTE, YOU JUST CAN'T HELP YOURSELF.

[fluff, no warnings really] - this is like my first time writing fluff so i hope it's not that bad 😭

you and chris were similar in many ways and clinginess was definitely one of them. there was no day when you two wouldn't touch each other. no matter if it was a full cuddling session, holding hands, his arms wrapped around your waist when you were cooking or just simply his hand on your thigh, while eating dinner with him and his brothers.

so he was never surprised when you'd randomly start showing him affection, but sometimes there were days when you were going crazy.

"kid, you serious?" chris asks, raising his eyebrows when you wrapped your arms and legs around his body like a koala. "i gotta go film a video, nick and matt are already waitin'—"

"i don't want you to gooooo..." a little pout forms on your lips, but even if he really would love to stay here with you, he had things to do.

chris stands up from the bed causing you to hang onto his body, trying not to fall. he wasn't holding you, thinking it would make you let go of him, but it didn't.

"baby, please, matt will get all grumpy that 'm late and shit, and i really don't wanna listen to that."

"ugh, fine" you say, but before letting go of him, you kiss all over his pretty face, "i love youuuuu."

another day, chris would wear his bear beanie that you just loved so much. he knew it, but he wasn't aware of how much you really liked when he was wearing it.

you found yourself curled up in his lap, your arm wrapped around his shoulders, head resting against his chest while he traced patterns on your thigh with his finger. the both of you decided to watch spongebob in the living room, but you preferred starring at chris instead, your heart pounding in your chest.

"you should wear this more often," you mutter, smiling up at him once he locks eyes with you. you give him a quick kiss on the lips, then on the cheek.

"oh, really?" he raises his eyebrows, his lips curve into a smile, "are ya even watchin'?"

"sure, i am. watching you counts?"

chris can't help but chuckle, which causes your heartbeat speed up. the warm in your chest only he could make you feel. you wrap your arms around his waist tightly, almost as if you were afraid that once you let go he disappears. almost squeezing him, you kiss along his jaw.

"ow, fuck, can i at least breathe?" he laughs, getting slightly flustered at how clingy you were. obviously his slightly flushed cheeks don't go unnoticed by you.

"awwww, you're kinda blushin'," another kiss on the cheek, you play with the small, little bear ears on the top of his beanie, then eventually taking it off. noticing his messy hair, you can't help but run your hand through it and starts playing with them. you rest your cheek against his chest, looking up at him with a smile. "you're so cutie princess."

chris gives you a death stare, making you smile even more, "are you fuckin' serious right now?? 'm a big boy, not some princess 'n shit."

"my princessssss." you say on purpose, knowing it's driving him crazy. "i love you," at your response he just shakes his head in disbelief, you could feel a slow, rhythmic beat of his heart against your cheek, "a loooot."

whether he wanted it or not, your words and how you act in general, makes him really happy, warmth spreads inside his chest. chris gives you a kiss on the forehead, causing your cheeks to heat.

"i love my girl," you shove your face further into his chest, "so fuckin' much."

his words only causes you to kiss him like a thousand more times through the whole evening, your body wrapped around him, not letting go even for a second until the both of you fall asleep, cuddled up on the couch.

@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess

[plum-coke]

salt lake crew made a private party for christmas, they (abby) invited you . . . ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

you arrived in the middle of the year, rescued during an exclusive salt lake crew patrol that ended up escalating too quickly. it took you a while to adapt to the stadium, but you never stopped doing what was asked of you.

and someone didn't fail to notice this effort.

“ abby! ” manny shouts.

“ huh? ” she turns to him.

“ we need to get the decorations, what are you doing? ” he follows abby’s gaze.

she was looking at you, patiently cleaning the dishes in the refectory kitchen.

“ we should invite her. ”

he takes two steps back.

“ abigail, are you serious? mel already got mad that i wanted to invite my… uh, nevermind. you can try but don’t come crying to me after this, let’s go! ”

both go out to get the christmas decorations they had prepared for the party at the aquarium. as they walked, mel and owen appeared in their field of vision.

“ mel, found you! ” abby shouted. “ are you going to the kitchen?! ”

“ wow! yeah, calm down. i need to make the hot chocolate and finish the decoration of the cookies. ”

“ amazing! owen, help him! ”

the blonde escapes from the manny(ual) labor to start using her charms.

“ can we talk…? ”

“ you’re already speaking. ”

abby tries to match the velocity of mel's steps.

“ i was wondering if we could bring someone else to the party…? ”

“ not you too?! manny already tried to invite his gorgeous situationship and i— ”

“ it’s the girl we rescued. ”

“ oh! ” mel stops walking abruptly. “ cute pie? awwww of course we can invite her. ”

abby stops more confused.

“ i’m sorry? cute pie? ”

“ yeah! this girl is a living blessing. i can't think of another name as dedicated to diverse tasks as her. isaac kinda noticed her too, you know? he says we can’t let her in patrol as long as she wants, this stadium can’t loose her. ”

“ and how was i not aware that isaac talked about her…? ”

“ since you mentioned it, i've found you very airy since october, it seems like you're living in your own head. what happened? ”

“ is making the cookies already driving you crazy? be careful with the sugar, diabetic. ”

the blonde tries to change the topic by saying that and rushing to the kitchen.

“ hey… ahm, hi. do you need help? ”

you look at her, noticing the awkward behavior.

“ hi abby! no need, i’m already finishing. ”

mel arrives and says hi to you with a bright smile.

“ are you free today sweetie? ”

“ uhum, finished everything in the refectory. ”

“ great, abby wants to tell you something. ”

mel says, and walks away to make hot chocolate. you look at her with curious eyes, standing in a classy and relaxed position.

“ you know, since we rescued you, i mean… we are very glad to have you with us, specially me and the others… of course the rest of the stadium too but— ”

you wait patiently and a slight smile appears in your face. it’s kinda funny to see abby, this tough and big figure, for some reason all nervous while taking with you.

“ i want to invite you to our private party. that’s it, mel agreed too, and i think you don’t deserve to celebrate your first christmas here alone. not that the others would not include you! i mean— ”

“ yes! ” you chuckle looking at mel, she is smiling too. “ that’s so sweet of you… really, i appreciate that you’re thinking about me too. do i have to bring something? ”

“ NO! no! never… ” she shouts. “ sorry. i’m stressed about the organization. but no, you’re our special guest, you just have to be there and enjoy everything! ”

she quickly looks at mel, who was moving quickly around the kitchen.

“ sweetie, why don’t you go get ready? i will knock at your door when the party starts. ”

“ uhum! see y’all later! ”

you leave the kitchen not too bouncy like a rabbit, and calm like a cat.

“ you’re a disaster, abby anderson! ” mel bursts into laugh. “ i think i got all the answers i needed. ”

“ what do you mean?! ”

“ nothing! ” she chuckles. “ when the time comes, you will pick her at her door. don’t question it. go help the others, i want some time alone to make everything here. ”

mel can be scary and sullen at times, but she almost feels like someone watching a teen movie seeing the other younger members of the salt lake crew fall in love.

abby leaves the kitchen speechless.

“ this face… she didn’t let you, doesn’t she? ”

“ shut up manny… i invited her. ”

“ who? ” owen asks.

“ the girl we rescued months ago, abs seems addicted. ”

“ shut up! oh my goodness! how’s the decorations going after all?! ”

manny and owen share grin and a look.

“ it’s almost done, i already told the others to get ready. mel just have to bring the food and we can start. ”

they finish decorating the aquarium, finally! it's adorable: all the fake branches of leaves, the lights that never stop flashing, some carved reindeer and a christmas tree right in the center of the principal room. abby returns to her room and starts to get ready, some uncertainties appear.

should i do a better braid?

it’s already perfect.

what if i’m stinky and only i can’t notice?

her smell is like pine trees with a touch of cinnamon, thanks to her cologne and the perfum that she found in one of the patrols.

there was nothing wrong, actually.

abby was just nervous to talk to you more then five sentences.

and speaking of you…

you were doing the final steps of your makeup when door knocks can be heard.

“ i’m so sorry! mel mad— ”

abby pauses her speaking, and for a reason. in your months on the stadium, it’s the first time you put on a tight dress to go out.

“ nora found this one weeks ago, i just washed and it’s pretty to use again… ”

you notice the clearly smile, abby was genuine enchanted by you. her eyes were sparkling like snowflakes falling down.

“ you’re gorgeous… ” you blush hard.

“ thank you, abs! ”

abs…

SHE CALLED ME ABS !!!

“ you look gorgeous as always. ”

she notices your shaky hands and the way you were avoiding her gaze.

“ about mel, you were saying… ”

“ ah, right. she had to stay into the kitchen a little more, buts everything’s okay! ”

she pauses for a moment.

“ it’s pretty cold outside, they’re waiting for us in the drivers anyway but take this— ”

“ you’re too kind, the aquarium isn’t that fair. ”

“ hey! i insist, i don’t want you to get a cold. ”

she puts her jacket around you.

“ so cute. ” she says. “ i mean, you’re cute of course! but mor— ”

“ abigail anderson! ” leah shouts from the end of the corridor. “ you’re a fucking snail, let’s fucking go! ”

abby and you share a look giggling, and you two walk with leah to the driver in a awkward silence. everyone finally arrives the aquarium. mel already told everyone that you would be there and they’re being kind to you. as always.

“ hey, you hungry? ” you nod negativly. “ great, wanna see something cool? ”

you agree, abby asks you to close your eyes and she guides you to somewhere else in the aquarium you’ve never been before.

“ you can open. ”

it’s a secret little room, with candles, a mat all rounded with cushions. and a big window opened to the water. yeah, there’s life swimming there too.

“ sit down, please. ”

“ abby… you made this? ”

“ yes, i mean— manny and owen helped me some hours ago. can i… hold your hand? ”

if you remember, that’s literally the first time you’re touching abby. you two never had the opportunity to hug or anything else before.

“ oh, you’re warm! ” she chuckles.

“ and you’re kinda cold… are you okay? ” you ask genuinely concerned, abby’s just nervous.

“ i feel better now. i want to tell you something… you can slap my face and run away if you want, you’re in your rights. ”

pause.

“ since when we found you, all scared, hurt and hiding from the infecteds… i couldn’t stop thinking about you. when i saw your figure all fragile and hopeless like that, i felt a deep feeling to be the one protecting you. and when i noticed everyone being kind and respectful with you just in your first day here, i noticed something. your soul is the most pure thing ever… i don’t wanna sound like a stalker, but i was noticing you in everything you offered yourself to do! you’re perfect, and just in this month, the last of the year, i noticed that i’m genuinely falling in love. ”

what would you answer to that be? :D