#being dragged away to the exit screaming

[das-a-kirby-blog]

dedede being chill w the dude who dragged him around, almost got him killed and used him as a puppet vs meta knight still being petty w the girl who mechanized him

[elliesanqel]

loser ellie being down bad for mean!reader please like maybe shes a popular girl that kinda makes fun of her

obsessed

sypnosis; you were the popular girl—mostly known for making fun of people but there was one girl in particular you always made fun of on the daily. however, with you thinking she hated your guts because of how you treat her, little did you know how secretly obsessed she was with you when she shows another side of herself. warnings; smut, sub!fem reader, dom!ellie, semi-public fingering, slight cum play, not proofread, mdni. a/n; sorry for the wait…i’ve been sick😭 but here i am powering through💪 i looooved this idea so tysm for ur req! (sorry if it sounds rushed, better ones will come soon💔) hope u enjoy! reqs are always open so send as many in i looove seeing them! also if you wanna be on my taglist drop a comment or dm me!

➝ masterlist

you sat at your table with your friends, just a regular wednesday. everyone who wasnt your friend saw you as the mean girl. the popular girl. the one everyone would kill to be like or even sit with. you had to admit, you loved the feeling of being drooled over. you were mean to alot of people, you enjoyed teasing. but when it came to that one girl? ellie williams? oh you enjoyed teasing her more than everyone—your go to was the fact that everyone knew she was a lesbian, mostly because of the fact you knew you could say something as you were straight. or…so you thought.

you laughed with your mates, till at the corner of your eye you see her, her backpack slung over her shoulder as she trails past your table, not even making eye contact and you could sense the fact she knew you’d say something when she turned her head the other way.

“look, guys. its that lesbian weirdo.” you laugh, thinking you were somewhat funny as your friends laughed too. you never let a day go by where you wouldn’t tease her. after all, in your eyes it was just banter. she shot you a look of disgust, which only made you smirk when you realised she wasnt trying to look away.

“what’re you starin’ for? hm? did you wanna kiss me or something?” you joke, your friends laughs echoing behind you. she rolled her eyes and walked off before you could make another joke, shooting you a side glance as she exited the cafeteria. you smiled to yourself, thinking your teasing was successful for today.

that was until after lunch had ended, you had 2 more lessons left before you went home now so you got up and said bye to your friends, walking towards the hallway to your next lesson.

you stopped at your locker for some things, but before you could close it a rough hand gripped around your arm and dragged you to the nearest empty classroom. you couldnt even react it was so fast, all you could do was try and scream but even that was abruptly cut off by a hand covering your mouth.

the classroom was pitch black as the blinds were down, but an open window blew one of the blinds slightly, letting some light in and illuminating who dragged you here. your eyes widened in confusion, but then you were just completely dumbfounded once you recognised the memorable features…of her.

“you—” you began, but your sentence was yet again cut off when she took a step closer, her firm hands wrapping around your naked thighs due to your short skirt, and she placed you on top of one of the desks. she looked at you with those eyes. that same look that you knew all too well.

“you get off on making me look like a fool all the time. don’t you think its my turn now?” she whispers seductively, her breath fanning across your lips as she leaned in, her palms resting on your thighs. this was the complete opposite of what you’d expected from her, and to add on—you’d never really heard her talk before up until now.

you gulped loudly, her words leaving you completely speechless. you silently cursed yourself as you felt your thighs involuntarily spreading a little further, letting her stand inbetween them which is exactly what she did when she saw the opportunity.

she gripped your thighs harder, her lips leaning in and brushing against your ear, her voice low. “hmm. this doesn’t seem like straight behaviour to me. the same girl who makes fun of me for not being it,” she whispers, her hot breath touching your ear.

“spreading those legs for me, huh? yeah, seems very straight, doesn’t it?” she teases. repeatedly mentioning the whole straight thing considering you constantly made fun of her for being lesbian. so many thoughts clouded your mind and you were partly confused, but she was able to read that part. “let me clear that mind of yours, mhm?” she mumbles breathlessly, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek before one of her hands slowly began reaching up your skirt.

“you were right, y’know. i do want to kiss you.”

your breath hitched, her lips inching closer to yours and pressing a soft kiss to them. her tongue slipped over your bottom lip—seeking entrance and you complied, parting your lips for her. her tongue slipped into your warm mouth, sliding against your own in a desperate kiss as both of your breaths were heavy. for some reason, you weren’t pulling away. god, what was she doing to you? you started questioning yourself. wondering wether you made fun of her just to cover up the fact that you could potentially…like her. so many thoughts clouded in your head, but her next movement quickly swiped them all away.

she broke the kiss—her middle and ring finger slipped up your thigh, and past your panties, gently running through your folds. fuck sake. in a classroom. seriously?

you arched forward as you felt her warm fingers rub your folds, your forehead meeting with her shoulder as a needy whine fell past your parted lips. her eyes widened at that, however. she lifted her other hand from your thigh, getting her pointer finger and middle finger and gliding them across your bottom lip, wanting to slip them in. “be quiet. suck.” she commanded, ordering you to suck on her fingers to keep you silent.

your eyes flashed open, but all you could do at this point was comply. you opened your mouth further, taking her digits into your mouth as you began sucking on them. her face fell, her teeth finding her bottom lip as she bit down on it, urging her other hand. she began circling your clit which caused you to bite down on her fingers that were making your mouth feel so full.

she loved the feeling, seeing the girl who made fun of her looking like a fool beneath her. “thats it, thaaats it. suck, sweetheart.” she teased, her voice still that low and seductive tone that you’d gotten used to by now.

she wasted no time in slipping her fingers inside of your clearly aching pussy. she could feel your walls clench around them as she slipping them in fully. you bit down harder on her fingers, your eyes completely rolling back as you arched further.

“ohhh fuck…look at you,” she whispers, moving her lips to your ear again, her voice lowering even further as she spoke. she layed soft kisses to your temple, her soft lips grazing against your skin. her fingers continued to move, pumping in and out of your sobbing hole at a fast pace. so fucking ruthless.

you could feel it now, your stomach tightening and your walls clenching around ellies fingers, she could feel it too. one of your hands reach to her forearm, gripping on for dear life as you could feel yourself on the edge, your teeth biting down harder and your tongue swirling around her fingers in your mouth. she swore she could feel your juices surround her other ones before you’d even came yet, beginning to smirk as she saw you unfolding for her.

“i-i…im gonna—” you almost gag on your words, your mouth completely full with saliva and surrounded by her fingers. your ankles wrap around her waist, trapping her in. “shh, i know, i know.” she whispers reassuringly. she knew you were teetering on the edge and she wanted to get you there, purely to see the sight and for you to feel pleasure. with a couple more pumps, her fingers curling up and stroking against your spongey spot, and her thumb finding your clit, circling it gently, you felt your whole body begin to shake before finally jolting.

your cum flowed out of your aching pussy, onto the desk below you and covering her fingers. you give one final bite on her fingers in your mouth, but you couldnt help but whine as your back arched once more. why was that so good…and why did you want more? she grinned, slipping her fingers out of your mouth with a pop.

then came her fingers from your wet cunt, slipping them out. she smirked at the sight. “i knew your cum would look good on my fingers,” she whispers, looking you dead in the eyes. but then she raised her fingers to her mouth, inserting them in and licking up every last bit like it was liquid fucking gold. she let out a content hum, all the while your eyes widening as you watched her lick your juices up.

her words lingered in your head. well fuck. she’s thought of this happening before.

she reached her hand back down, gathering more of your release back onto her fingers, causing your hips to move against them slightly and your teeth finding your bottom lip. she really didnt care by this point, how desperate she looked for you, she just cared about showing it. this time though, she inched her fingers to your mouth, caressing your lips and letting your own cum drip onto them.

you’d never experienced anything like this before but you knew what she wanted, and you couldnt help but want nothing more than to comply with it. your tongue darted out, licking up your own cum off your lips that she’d put there. she eyed your every movement, smirking as she watched you like she was watching a damn porn video—completely mesmerised.

she pushed your panties back to where they should be, licking her fingers a few more times like she’d just enjoyed and was full from a good meal. she leaned into you, her lips brushing against yours now which caused your heart to jolt.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow then?” she whispers, her words hitting you like a fucking truck. see you tomorrow? oh no she did not.

your eyes shot open in fury, about to physically yell at her for acting so nonchalant now. but before you could even protest she’d already began walking to the classroom door, opening it and closing it behind her, not even having the courtesy to give you a glance before she left. you sat there, completely dumbfounded and angry that she’d left you in a damn classroom in a state like this.

but something tugged in your stomach, silently cursing yourself that you were actually excited for tomorrow.

taglist: @valeisaslut @elliesfavtoy @ttspenny @willurms @slutt4ellie @stvrluvrrpres @elliescoochieeater @st0nerlesb0 @les4elliewilliams @eveyuyy @starwilliams @ellieswrath @eriiwaii @vahnilla

[pixiexdusts-world]

Underneath the metal

Thunderbolts* Bucky Barnes x teammate!reader

Summary: After you’re injured on a solo mission, Bucky—your enemy-turned-teammate—steps in to take care of you, revealing feelings neither of you can ignore.

Word count: 1,965

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You and Bucky Barnes didn’t get along. From day one, it had been glares, snide remarks, and the kind of tension that made everyone else on the Thunderbolts team either exit the room or place bets.

He was brooding and cold. You were fire and sarcasm. Oil and water—if oil had a metal arm and a hundred-yard death stare.

Which is why it was almost funny—almost—that you got shot on a mission you’d begged to be sent on instead of him.

You’d been tracking a rogue scientist through an old Hydra compound in Slovakia, determined to bring him in without backup. But things went sideways fast. You barely made it out alive, collapsing just inside the hangar of the Thunderbolts’ safehouse, soaked in blood and pride.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You wake to pain.

A bright, aching throb in your side. Something tight around your ribs. The sterile smell of disinfectant.

And Bucky.

He’s sitting next to your cot, face grim, arms crossed. That stupid metal one glinting in the dim light.

You blink slowly. “If this is hell, it’s disappointingly sarcastic.”

His eyes shoot to yours. Blue and burning.

“You almost died,” he says, and it sounds more like an accusation than concern.

“Yeah, well. Almost doesn’t count.”

You try to sit up and immediately regret it. Your ribs scream in protest. Bucky’s hand shoots out to steady you, warm fingers surprisingly gentle as they press to your shoulder.

“Lie back.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

You glare. “Didn’t ask for your help.”

“No,” he snaps, “you didn’t. You just snuck off like an idiot and bled all over the compound.”

You open your mouth for a biting retort, but something in his expression stops you cold.

He looks—wrecked.

His jaw tight. Hands clenched. And his voice, when he speaks again, is low and raw.

“Who did this to you?”

The question hits harder than the bullet did.

You glance away, throat tight. “It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t.”

He leans forward now, and there’s no teasing in his face, no smug grin or sarcastic jab. Just worry. Sharp, undiluted worry.

“Tell me.”

You swallow. “It was one of the guards. Saw me before I saw him. Got a lucky shot. I handled it.”

His metal hand curls around the edge of the bed. “You didn’t handle it. You nearly bled out alone.”

“I didn’t want to risk dragging anyone else into it.”

He lets out a sound between a scoff and a growl. “So instead you’d rather die being a goddamn martyr?”

You bristle. “You don’t get to lecture me.”

“I do when I’m the one who carried you back.”

Your heart stutters. “What?”

“I found you in the hangar. Barely breathing. You passed out before you even saw me.”

He stares at you like he’s memorizing your face, as if making sure it’s really you.

“I thought you were gone.”

Something inside you cracks.

You’ve spent months trading barbs and pushing each other’s buttons, but right now, none of that matters. Not when he’s looking at you like you’re the last thing tethering him to this world.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “For going alone.”

He doesn’t reply right away. Just looks at you, searching your face.

Then, softer than you’ve ever heard him, he murmurs, “You scared the hell out of me.”

You blink, stunned.

And then, because the painkillers are still fogging your brain and your heart is wide open and aching, you whisper, “Why do you even care?”

He stands abruptly, pacing once before turning back. Frustration radiates off him.

“Because I do,” he says, exasperated. “Because somewhere between you calling me a fossil and nearly blowing my arm off during sparring, I started giving a damn.”

You stare at him, pulse hammering.

He rubs a hand down his face, eyes tired. “I know we’ve never been exactly… civil. But I’d rather take a thousand of your insults than lose you.”

Your throat tightens.

“I didn’t know you felt—”

“Well, now you do.”

His voice is quiet again. And something about his vulnerability—that bare, open honesty—feels heavier than anything Hydra ever put you through.

You shift in the bed, trying not to wince. “Can you… stay? Just for a bit?”

His gaze softens. “Yeah. Of course.”

He settles back into the chair beside you. For a moment, the room is still. The air between you has changed, no longer charged with animosity but with something tentative, delicate.

You break the silence with a smile. “Still hate you a little.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well. You’re a pain in my ass.”

But his fingers brush yours on the edge of the cot, feather-light. And you don’t pull away.

You let them rest there.

Warm. Steady.

Real.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Two Weeks Later

You’re back on your feet, still sore, still healing—but training again. Bucky watches you from across the gym, arms folded, pretending not to look. Which is a lie, because he hasn’t stopped looking since you stepped onto the mat.

You fake a punch toward the bag and glance at him. “You stalking me now, Barnes?”

He smirks. “Making sure you don’t get yourself killed again.”

You toss your gloves onto the bench and walk toward him, towel slung over your shoulder. He doesn’t move as you stop in front of him.

“You’re a terrible liar, too.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

You nod, stepping close. “You don’t want me alive just because we’re teammates.”

“No,�� he agrees, voice low. “I don’t.”

You’re close enough now to feel the heat radiating off him.

“You gonna do something about it?” you murmur.

He hesitates, eyes flicking to your lips. “Only if you want me to.”

You lean in just a bit. “I do.”

His lips brush yours, tentative and reverent. It’s not a fireworks explosion. It’s something softer—like a wound finally healing.

And when he pulls back, forehead resting against yours, he whispers,

“Next time you run into danger without me, I’m chaining you to the jet.”

You grin. “Kinky.”

He groans. “Regret. Instant regret.”

But he’s smiling, and so are you. Because for the first time since this whole twisted Thunderbolts mission started, you’re not just surviving.

You’re living.

And maybe—just maybe—falling in love with the man you once thought was your greatest enemy.

[enjakey]

This New Version of Me

Pairing: [retired idol!Jake x family friend!reader]!neighbours

Hey guys. Apparently I love writing 24k word fics. It wasn't intentional I swear. Please do read it, I think this is a very nice story (wow what a way to advertise my shit, right?)

Anyways, I think I should mention that maybe this is a anger-triggering story for some fans? It's suggested that after 2027, their contract ends and they disband because they didn't want to continue as idols. And it's suggested that it's because of terrible fans and a harsh industry. So if you have an issue with that, don't read this. This is purely fictional so I hope people can read this by putting their emotions aside. Also I've accepted that I can't write smut for shit. There's just a lot of suggestive shit on her. And maybe mentions of Jake being a bit of a pervert.

Please enjoy guys- like, reblog and comment! I'd love to know your guys' thoughts. I love when people give detailed reviews.

Summary: after most idols retire, they usually have something to fall back upon, some sort of job or hobby waiting for them to return to the layman life. Jake, however, was struggling to find his way. At twenty-seven, he knew it would be a terrible idea to go back to studying, despite his love for physics. So, he dabbled back into the world of music, exploring his talents in song writing and exploiting his contacts for help. While back at his unfamiliar home from his childhood, his family of four living under one roof again, he’s reintroduced to Y/N, the girl next door, who he spent some of his childhood with.

i. where the applause fades

With his head hung low, Jake exited the Brisbane Airport. The entire space was empty, except for himself and the crowd of netizens grouped in front of him, waving and screaming for his attention. Men of the army and police officers held the crowd back with plastic shields and battens. Camera lights flashed in hundreds, his eyes glassing at the flares. He just stood there, defeated and alone in his wallow, beads of sweat rolling down the side of his neck. This was his first time being in front of tabloids and journalists without make-up and a fully styled outfit. He felt bare, naked as the world was going to see him as nothing but himself- no fame attached to his name, no contract with a big music company, no sight of what was to come next.

From a distance, he spotted his brother, Sam, craning his neck over the crowd with a look of pure worry and disappointment- in him or in the public? He couldn’t tell. He hated that it was the first thing he saw in his brother after years. As his chest weighed heavy, Jake bowed down to the tabloids and his fans, arms swinging by his side like weightless bags. Just then, he felt a hand grabbing his bicep- his brother, dragging him away from the ruckus and gripping his lone suitcase as they pushed through insistent bodies. The security guards tried to help the pair of brothers, bodies shielding them from harm but ultimately failing as cameras and microphones pushed through the empty spaces between their arms.

“How does it feel to be back?”

“Jake, one word, please!”

“How are the rest of the members?”

“Is this your brother?”

“Is it true?” Somehow, that was the one question that had Jake looking over his shoulder. “Is it true that you disbanded because you hate your fans?”

He turned away again, letting his brother shove him into his car. Sam threw the flimsy, silver suitcase into the back seat of the car and hurried to turn on the engine. People were slamming the glass of the windows, desperate for his reaction. Jake brought his shoulders together and tried hiding his face under his leather jacket, glasses knocking off his nose in the process. As Sam slammed on the accelerator, Jake bent to reach for his glasses. Neither of them looked back as the running crowd disappeared the further they drove from the airport. For a few moments, they sat in silence, gaze focused on the road in front of them as if it would diffuse the hovering awkwardness.

“Just one suitcase?” That was probably the first thing Sam said to him in person in years.

“Dad said he’d have the rest of my stuff shipped,” Jake grumbled, sulking into his seat and staring out the window.

As he crossed his arms and chewed on his lips, he found his eyes starting to water. He told himself that it was his body getting used to Australia’s sun after not being back for so long. But then he found himself biting back a whimper, chest on the verge of bursting as he held back his hiccups. Then he tried biting his cheek, teeth pressing into the soft muscle, but even that didn’t seem to help. The tremor in his breath betrayed him, a burn in his throat.

He exhaled shakily, finding his vision blurry. The golden afternoon turned into hazy streaks. He willed himself to stop, to push it all down, to pretend that the weight in his chest was nothing more than exhaustion from the long flight. But when he blinked, a single tear slipped past his lashes, trailing warmth down his cheek.

The events of the past month rushed back to him. First, it started with the newspaper headlines, cold and merciless, dissecting his and his band member’s every move, every misstep, every strained interaction between him and the people he once called family. The flood of hate, seeping through screens and whispering in crowded spaces, turning admiration into venom. The uncertainty, the sleepless nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering if walking away was the right choice or just the only choice left. Then started the fights between his band members and the management, screams and disrespect thrown like daggers in dimly lit rooms, voices hoarse from anger and exhaustion.

At the end came the disbandment. The final press release; the public apologies and the rehearsed words that felt more like a eulogy than a farewell, the goodbyes. He couldn’t tell who was sincere and who was distant- over time, the seven had become great actors, a skill they needed to survive in front of tabloids.

No matter how hard he tried to forget, the past seven years wouldn’t leave him. They were stitched into his skin, echoing in every quiet moment, reminding him that once, he had everything. And now he had nothing but the weight of what used to be.

Sam heard him take a sharp inhale and frantically moved his eyes between the road and his brother. Jake, who had started sobbing into his arm, his nose digging into his jacket and breath halting every few seconds. Tears were streaming down his face, his hair matted onto his skin with a mixture of sweat and stress. He didn’t hear his cry in years- apart from the public breakdown he had over the death of their grandmother.

Swiftly, Sam pulled over to the curb and parked the car. He reached his hand to grip Jake’s forearm, trying to pry his face away from his jacket but he only curled into himself further, bringing his legs up to hug his knees into his chest. It was an ugly sight, for the first thing for him to see after years was his brother’s shattering reality and breaking heart.

“Jake,” he coaxed in a soft whisper. “Jake… Jaeyun, c’mon,” he tried and tugged in the hood of his jacket. Jake didn’t budge.

So, Sam got out of the car and strode over to the other side and opened the door. With an undeniable force, a force that said you have to do what I say because I’m your brother, Sam pulled him out of the car and made him stand in front of him. Jake wasn’t even able to stand- his knees gave out and he slumped into the car, body racking with sobs.

Sam pulled his brother in for a hug, his arms and chest engulfing him in a safe embrace. At first, Jake resisted, his fists pressing weakly against Sam’s chest, a futile attempt to keep himself together. His body was tense, rigid with everything he refused to let spill over. But then, something in him cracked. The fight drained from his limbs, his fingers unclenching as his hands clutched at Sam’s shirt instead, as if anchoring himself to something real, something steady. He let his forehead drop against his brother’s shoulder, eyes squeezing shut, breath shuddering as he exhaled everything he had been holding in.

He couldn’t handle it anymore. He wasn’t even sure what it was he was supposed to handle—what he was meant to endure, what unseen force had decided he was meant to be punished. Was it for leaving? For staying too long? For not fighting harder, or for fighting at all? It felt like no matter what he did, he had lost. Lost his band. Lost his purpose. Lost himself somewhere in the mess of it all. And now, standing in his brother’s embrace, he realized just how exhausted he was of pretending to be fine. His throat tightened, his shoulders shaking slightly. Sam only held him tighter, his warmth steady and unyielding, as if to say you don’t have to hold this alone.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Jake cried. He fisted his brother’s shirt, a desperate attempt to find some grounding in a world he suddenly found so unfamiliar. “What do you mean, it's all gone? What do you mean, I’ll never see them again? Live with them again? Laugh with them again? What do you mean, I won’t ever perform again? Sing again? What do you mean? What does that mean? No way everything we built, everything we suffered through together, just disappears like it was nothing? That the people who knew me better than anyone, the ones who were my family, are suddenly just… gone? That I wake up tomorrow and there’s no rehearsals, no stupid inside jokes, no late-night recordings that turn into early-morning breakdowns? That I don’t belong anywhere anymore?”

Sam rubbed his hand up and down Jake’s back in slow, steady motions, murmuring quiet reassurances, even if he wasn’t sure what to say. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding Jake as his body trembled with the weight of everything he had been holding in. “I know, I know,” Sam whispered, his voice soft, steady, a quiet anchor against the storm raging inside his brother. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

“What do you mean, I have to walk away? Just be okay with it?” Jake continued. “I don’t know what to do without them- I don’t know who I am without them, anymore. I want the last eight years back- take me back, Hyung. Take me back.”

Jake crumbled.

They must have spent close to an hour standing there, in the middle of the road, getting weird looks from pedestrians and other cars driving past. But Sam didn’t care. At that moment, he just wanted his brother to be happy. "You good?" Sam asked, voice low, careful not to break the fragile silence between them. He felt Jake exhale heavily against his shoulder before finally pulling back, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy, his face a mess of tear tracks and exhaustion.

Jake shook his head, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, "I think I’m done crying for now."

Sam huffed a small, fond chuckle, squeezing Jake’s shoulder before nodding toward the car. "Come on, let’s get out of here before someone recognizes you and we end up on the news."

Jake let out a weak laugh- his first in what felt like forever- as he wiped at his face with his sleeve, taking a slow, shaky breath before finally following Sam to the car. The drive home was quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable, just… there. Jake leaned his head against the window, watching the city blur past, his mind still too full, too tangled, but just a little lighter than before. And for now, that was enough.

“I feel like everyone hates me,” he mumbled.

“We don’t hate you,” Sam assured. “If anyone hates you, it’s gonna be Y/N. And that’s only because she hates everyone, so it doesn’t count.”

As soon as Jake stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of home- his mother’s cooking, faint traces of old wood and fabric softener- washed over him. It should have been comforting. But before he could even take it in, a voice from the living room caught his attention.

"In today’s entertainment news, the sudden disbandment of Enhypen-”

The sound cut off in an instant, replaced by the awkward shuffle of movement, the telltale click of a remote being fumbled with, and the kind of silence that felt too forced. Jake’s eyes flickered to the living room, where his parents and Y/N’s family sat stiffly, their faces caught in varying degrees of panic and guilt. And then there was Y/N, sitting closest to the TV, her back still half-turned toward the screen, the remote clutched so tightly in her hands that her knuckles had gone white. He could tell she was trying to play it cool, like nothing had happened, but his thoughts paced back and forth. The disbandment- like it was just another headline, another fleeting story for people to consume and move on from.

Jake stood at the entrance of the living room, the exhaustion in his face making him look older than he was. His body was still slightly tense from hearing the news, but before he could even process the awkward silence that followed, his mother was on him.

"Oh, my baby," Diane, his mother, whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she rushed to wrap her arms around him. "You're finally home." Jake barely had time to react before he was pulled into the warmth of her embrace. His mom smelled the same—lavender and something sweet, like vanilla. The familiarity of it made his chest ache. She squeezed him so tightly it almost hurt, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into it, exhaling deeply against her shoulder.

"Mom," he muttered, his voice hoarse, but she only held him tighter, like she was afraid he'd disappear again.

"I missed you so much," she murmured, running a hand through his hair like she used to when he was younger.

"Diane, let the boy breathe," Rob, his father, chuckled, though there was no mistaking the sadness in his voice. He was next, pulling Jake into a firm hug, his palm pressing against the back of his head like he was grounding him. "Good to have you home, son."

Jake swallowed hard, nodding against his father’s shoulder before pulling away. He interacted with his father the least- a few texts and calls here and there. It was his mother he talked to the most. She would send him long texts and voice notes giving him updates about what’s been happening in everyone’s lives. Jake would respond to her religiously, grateful for how well she took care of him even while miles apart.

“Look at you,” his mom murmured, pulling back to cup his face, searching for his features like she was trying to recognize the boy she had sent off years ago. “Have you been eating enough? You look so tired, sweetheart.”

He let out a breath of something close to a laugh, though it barely had the strength to form. “I’m fine, Mom.”

His eyes flickered across the room, finally landing on Y/N’s parents. They looked kind, familiar- just as he had remembered them to be. "Mr. Y/L/N, Mrs. Y/L/N," he greeted, offering a small smile, trying his best to be polite. It suddenly took a lot of energy to not let his smile falter. "It’s been a while."

"Too long," Mark said, clapping him on the shoulder with a kind smile. "We’re proud of you, kid. No matter what."

Evelyn nodded in agreement, her expression gentle. "We were worried about you."

"I’m okay," Jake lied, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He wasn’t sure they believed him, but they nodded anyway, not pushing further.

Then, his gaze landed on Y/N. She was standing near the couch, arms crossed, posture unreadable. The room was dimly lit, but even in the low light, her expression was sharp, her eyes piercing. She hadn’t said a word since he walked in, but she didn’t need to. It was just like her to offer presence instead of words. Her silence was unwavering, a quiet force that had always unsettled him a little when they were younger. Now, after nine years of absence, it was somehow even heavier.

Still, something about seeing her here, standing in his living room, made his chest tighten. Nostalgia, maybe. Or something else entirely.

“Welcome back, Jake,” she said, voice low and so easy to miss if he hadn’t been paying attention.

She cracked him a smile and he could tell the action was unfamiliar to her. It wasn’t that she was deliberate about her demeanour- his presence was simply foreign and understandably so. At the time of his departure, she’s been his neighbour for eight years and known him for seven; interacted with him for five years and had actually been friends with him for two years. They hadn’t spoken since he left, and even before that, their friendship had faded into the background of time. She had been part of his life in varying degrees—first as a neighbor, then an acquaintance, then something like a friend before life inevitably got in the way.

In the long text messages his mother would send him, Y/N was mentioned a considerable amount of times. She told him about the story of how her first boyfriend got her in trouble with her parents and it had become a huge thing- so much so that even she and Rob had to get involved. She told him about how she loved high school and graduated top of her class, how she excelled in her university and graduated with a scholarship. She told him that she was a film and literature geek- he wasn’t sure what her preferences were, but he understood that she was learned, based on what his mother said about her quoting philosophers and artists. Finally, she told him about how Sam helped her get a job in the company that he worked in, the company their father founded. Jake even remembered joking about how this was next level nepotism.

Sam stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He stretched out his arms with a sigh. “Man, that was a long drive.” His voice cut through the tension like a knife, effortlessly lightening the air. He glanced at Y/N, then at Jake, then smirked slightly, though there was no real mischief behind it. “I was telling him on the way here that he’s got a whole welcome party waiting.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’re not a party.”

“Close enough,” Sam shot back.

Jake watched the pair interact, an unexpected banter between them. He figured, in his absence, the two would become close in some manner. With Sam a staggering nine years older than her, he had somewhat become a mentor to her. There was a quiet understanding between them, one built on shared experiences and, perhaps, the same unshakable support Sam had always offered Jake.

Jake wasn’t sure why that realization unsettled him. Maybe it was because he had been gone long enough for dynamics to shift, for people to form new bonds that didn’t include him. Maybe it was because, once upon a time, Y/N had been a familiar presence in his life, and now she felt like just another part of the home he no longer recognized.

Sam turned to Jake, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You should eat. Mom’s been cooking all day like she’s trying to feed a whole village.”

Jake exhaled slowly, exhaustion catching up to him. “That sounds nice.”

His mother beamed, tugging him toward the dining room. “Then let’s get you something, sweetheart.”

Sam lingered behind, watching as everyone disappeared into the kitchen, their parents fussing over Jake like he was a child returning from war. The room slowly returned to normal conversation, but the weight of the evening still pressed down on them all.

That night, Sam found himself having a hard time sleeping. He had helped Jake into his old bedroom- his old bedroom that had been untouched with the same bedsheets he had when he was fifteen and the soccer ball that he hung on the wall against dark blue paint. He thought he’d have a hard time being back but with the exhaustion that his body had succumbed to, he crashed onto his bed and started snoring before he could even cover himself with the duvet.

Sighing, Sam went downstairs to the kitchen to find himself a cold glass of milk. It was a habit that he never grew out of- only being able to fall asleep after a glass of milk. Jake had the habit, too. He wondered if that changed.

To his surprise, and perhaps dismay, he saw his mother sitting on the dining table with her head held in her hands. She looked scared, confused and maybe even a little sad. Sam circled over to her, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside her. She didn’t lift her head, just sighed deeply, fingers threading through her hair. The kitchen light cast soft shadows across her face, making the exhaustion in her features even more pronounced.

“You should get some sleep,” Sam said quietly, his voice rough from the late hour.

She let out a soft, humorless laugh, “I could say the same to you.”

Sam huffed, glancing down at the marble countertop, “I can’t sleep.”

His mother finally looked up, her eyes glassy, “me neither.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards upstairs.

Then she spoke again, voice hesitating, "is he going to be okay?” Sam leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know,” he paused, then shook his head. “He will be. But not if we leave him to his own thoughts.” She nodded, swallowing hard. “He’s never been good at being alone.” “Exactly,” Sam said. “That’s why we need to keep him busy. Not with work—he’s had enough of that. But just… keep him around people. Keep him moving.” His mother exhaled, rubbing her arms as if warding off a chill, “what do you have in mind?” “Anything,” Sam said. “Dinners, game nights, small outings. Even just sitting with him in silence. He won’t say it, but he needs to feel like he’s not alone. The second he starts feeling like everything’s slipping away, like there’s nothing left for him here, that’s when we lose him.” His mother flinched, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sweater. “Yeah, you’re right.” “I’m sure everyone will help,” Sam assured her. “We’re here, Y/N and everyone is here… I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

She nodded, knowing that there was no point wallowing over her questions now. She stood up and tucked her chair back in, patting Sam on his shoulder. “Get some sleep, honey. You have work in the morning.”

ii. the art of distraction

Jake's days settled into a fixed timetable.

Every morning, before the sun would rise, Jake and Sam would drive to their neighbourhood gym. Sam was always chatty, breaking the early-morning silence with comments about Jake’s form or rambling about something completely unrelated- work, old high school stories, or how their mom had tried a new recipe and nearly set off the smoke alarm. Jake mostly listened, throwing in a smirk or a sarcastic reply here and there, but for the most part, he let Sam fill the silence. He would just focus on the burn of his muscles- something real, something tangible. It was the one part of his day that didn't require thinking.

Then, Sam would drop him home, always commenting on how he should drive the other car himself before leaving for work with Y/N. He would shower and would come downstairs to find his mother making breakfast. She would be flipping through an old, worn recipe book, even though he knew she wasn’t following it. She never did.

He would grab a knife and roll up his sleeves to help her. Cooking had always been something they did together. When he was younger, he’d stand on a stool beside her, asking endless questions about how flavors worked, why this spice was better than that, why she never measured anything properly. Even when he moved away, he had carried that love for cooking with him. But now, back in this kitchen, surrounded by the warmth of home, it felt different- like a small piece of his old self was still intact.

After breakfast, he would mostly just sit around the living room and keep his mother company. He would catch up on all the films he’d missed or watch one of the many crappy reality tv shows. Sometimes, he’d mess around on the new guitar his father bought him and see if he could get any pleasure out of it- he’d just end up learning how to play one of their old songs and cry to it. His mother had walked into him sobbing on his guitar a handful of times by now, Layla, his dog, whimpering with him at the foot of his leg.

Other times, he’d go on strolls in his neighborhood. The streets felt both familiar and unfamiliar, like a place he should know but didn’t quite belong to anymore. The same jacaranda trees lined the sidewalks, their petals scattering across the pavement just like they had when he was a teenager. The houses stood as they always had, their porches filled with potted plants and old bicycles, but the details had shifted- new fences, different cars in the driveways, fresh coats of paint that made everything feel slightly off.

The corner store where he and Sam used to stop for sodas was gone, replaced by a boutique café with sleek wooden interiors and baristas who didn’t recognize him. He’d sit inside sometimes, nursing a coffee he barely drank, watching people come and go. The world here had moved forward without him, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to catch up or let it pass by.

Some days, he took his skateboard instead, coasting down the streets, feeling the rough pavement under his wheels. It was easier than walking. At least when he was skating, he had something to focus on. Something to keep him moving.

He passed by the Y/L/N's house often, its warm, homey feel still intact. The front door was a deep green now- had it always been? There were wind chimes on the porch, a new set of potted flowers lining the steps. It was the same house, but time had settled into its bones. Just like it had with everything else.

The inside of their house looked different than he had remembered- they must have renovated it. Their garden, which connected to the garden in his house (which it didn’t used to when Jake first left), had towering plants and flowers while his only had grass and a fence. Their walls were lined with pictures- mostly family and group pictures but also many stills of Y/N either smiling at the camera or posing with style. Their house also looked more like an office while his looked more homely- the architecture looked like it belonged in a magazine and the colors they picked definitely weren’t conventional with splashes of orange, white and black. He was told that Y/N’s room, which was on the third floor, looked completely different from the rest of the house but he never got the chance to verify. For lunch, he’d find himself at their house anyway. Everyone, including his parents and brother, would gather around their huge dining table- one he didn’t even remember them having- while Evelyn passed around freshly cooked meals. Lunch was a lively affair, filled with stories and laughter, the air thick with all the moments he had missed over the years. They told him about how Sam nearly ruined Y/N’s graduation ceremony by showing up drunk, swearing he was just “a little tipsy” before tripping over a row of chairs and nearly face-planting in front of the dean. They told him about the time Rob and Mark nearly burned down the Y/L/N's kitchen attempting to cook a “simple” breakfast- Y/N had walked in to find flames licking the stove and two fully grown men panicking with a fire extinguisher. “It wasn’t that bad,” Rob argued, shaking his head. “We handled it.” “We evacuated the house that day,” Y/N deadpanned. Then there was Y/N’s first day at the office, where the employees had tried to surprise her with a welcome cake—only for the whole thing to go spectacularly wrong when her desk collapsed under its own weight. They told him about the neighborhood barbeques, how they became a regular thing- big, boisterous gatherings where half the street would show up, filling the backyard with laughter and the smell of grilled meat. And then there was the Taiwan trip last year, when Y/N somehow got separated from the group in a crowded food street and was eventually found ten minutes later, teary-eyed and clutching a bag of dumplings on the sidewalk. Mark, being a journalist, had even more stories to tell_ wild, absurd, sometimes downright unbelievable tales from his travels, filling Jake’s mind with images of distant cities, bizarre interviews, and once, a near-disastrous encounter with a monkey in Thailand. Jake listened, soaking it all in, the warmth of it settling somewhere deep in his chest. It was strange, hearing about these moments second hand- knowing that life here had kept moving, even when he wasn’t around. One evening, Jake found himself in their backyard with Mark who told him that he’d teach him how to grill on the barbeque. That night, they were set to have a barbeque so an arrangement of raw meats and vegetables were laid out beside them with burgers and hotdog buns. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting an amber glow over the wooden deck and the neatly trimmed lawn. The air smelled of fresh-cut grass, charcoal, and the promise of a good meal. “Alright, Jake,” Mark’s charcoal-covered hands send specs of dust flying in the air as he clasped them together. “First rule of grilling- don’t burn the food.”

Jake grinned at him. “We used to grill a lot, actually,” he admitted. A sense of nostalgia and longing washed over him as he thought back to the time Niki tried his first smore or the first time everyone realised how good a chef Jay was. He remembered how Sunoo would just sit there and wait for his food to be plated and how Sunghoon would tease him for it or how Heeseung was a messy eater.

“Oh, yeah?” Mark looked at him, surprised, and it occurred to Jake that he was probably the last person to watch all the episodes of Enhypen’s variety show. En-O’clock truly had Jake experiencing all the things he would have never experienced before- if it weren’t for the other six, he would have probably been buried six feet under.

“Yeah, I helped out when I could,” Jake nodded with pride. “But honestly, I’d let Jay do the work if he was there,” he realised that throwing out names was probably a bad idea. Expecting Mark to even know the names of these people was too much to even fathom.

But to his surprise, Mark hummed and continued to fan the burning charcoal. “Jay… I think your mom has mentioned him,” she pondered in thought. “She’s mentioned all of them to us- she tells me she keeps in touch with their families, too. I think that’s quite heart warming.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jake cleared his throat and adjusted his posture, tilting his head in surprise. “I think, when we first debuted, she met Jay and Heeseung’s family.”

As Mark started placing skewers of meat on the grill, they heard grass rustling behind them, followed by a string of barks. Layla came bounding into the yard with her tongue flapping in the wind. She ran into Jake and he kneeled to hug her, ruffling her fur and kissing her head. “Hello, Layla. Did you miss me?” He chuckled.

Behind her, Y/N stepped in, looking mildly amused at the scene before her. She had her work bag slung over one shoulder, her hair slightly tousled from the wind, eyes flicking between Mark and Jake at the grill.

"Hey Dad, hey Jake," she sighed in exhaustion, setting her bag down on the patio table. She waddled into her fathers embrace and he kissed her temple. Jake smiled at their interaction. “I forgot we were having a barbeque tonight- makes sense why Diane gave me that top today.”

“A top?” Mark raised a brow in question.

“Yeah, she told me she’d seen a top online that she thought would look really good on me,” she pulled it out of the plastic bag she was holding to reveal a blue and white striped shirt, cropped at the hem and sleeves pre-folded. “She said she’d ordered it a while back and it just came.”

“That’s sweet of her- Diane has good taste,” Mark nodded. “You should go in and show mom. You look exhausted. Maybe take a nap and freshen up before you come back down, sweetheart?”

“In a minute,” she nodded and crouched down to meet Jake’s eye level, her attention going towards Layla. “How are you, Jake?” Her gaze refused to meet him as she scratched Layla’s chin and let her lick her hand.

Over the past few weeks, he realised that he and Y/N never actually conversed alone. It was always during lunch with the entire family around and she would throw a quip or acknowledgement at him. Or it was alone with Mark or Evelyn or Sam or with his parents. It was almost like Y/N had set it up that way, that he would only get to know the crumbs of her life through interactions she had with her family or his family, but never with him. Everything he knew about her was secondhand.

“I’m good,” he pursed his lips.

Before he could ask a follow-up question, she was already leading the conversation. “Rob was telling me that you started thinking about work and stuff.”

“Oh,” his voice trailed. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to talk-”

“No, that’s alright,” Jake stood up and she followed, letting Layla circle around their legs and Mark go back to grilling. “Yeah, I’m not sure if I want to work at his company, though-”

“That’s exactly what I told him,” Y/N crossed her arms. “There’s no point in forcing it.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have anything else in mind?”

“I was thinking, maybe,” he cleared his throat again, feeling his mouth drying up and turning sour. He licked his lips, running a hand through his hair. The conversation was bringing him more stress and anxiety that he liked. But he knew it was high time he started thinking about his future- he couldn’t keep living under two roofs without contributing in some way or the other. “Maybe song writing- I thought I’d reach out to people. I’ve got connection-”

“Song writing?”

Jake was startled by the way her expression contorted. Her brows raised and she tilted her head. He couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or confusion. “Yeah, I wrote a couple songs in the band and people seemed to like it, so-”

“I think that’s a great idea,” she said followed by a nod from Mark. “If you’re confident, then we’ll support you. Right, dad?”

“Yup,” Mark smiled at him.

“Alright,” Y/N clasped her hands together, looking between Layla, Jake and her dad. “So, I’m gonna go take a nap now. Call me when everyone’s here.”

By the end of the barbeque night, Jake was exhausted- mentally exhausted. He hadn’t expected that simply walking around with a beer in hand, making small talk, and reintroducing himself to old neighbors would be so exhausting. His parents led him from group to group like some long-lost son returning home, their pride evident in the way they beamed at him.

It wasn’t long before the recognition started. Some people hesitated before approaching, unsure if they should bring it up, while others were bolder—asking for pictures, throwing casual remarks about his band, even suggesting he play something for them. Each time, he forced a polite smile, shook his head, and laughed it off, but Sam, watching from a distance, could see the telltale signs. The tight grip around his beer can. The stiff nods. The way his jaw clenched just a little harder every time someone mentioned music. He wasn’t just tired. He was simmering, barely keeping it together. He didn’t realise he had to keep up the duty of being a celebrity even after retiring. It was moments like these where he wished Enhypen didn’t do that great- that maybe becoming global idols wasn’t as glamorising as people made it to be- he should know, they resigned because of it.

Most of the night, he was thinking about how much he didn’t know about his family. Or was it families? He didn’t know what to consider Mark, Evelyn and Y/N anymore. His mom was buying Y/N clothes and his father was discussing the future of his career in concern with them. Sam was spending his free time in their house, watching their television- they all had lunch in their house like it was a ritual. Y/N would visit his house first after work before going back to her home- she kissed his mom on the cheek before her own, and looked for Sam in a large crowd before her dad. She spent her mornings in his hall waiting for Sam and Rob to get ready so they could go to work and usually ate his mom’s breakfast. How much was he underestimating how close they were? How much was he distancing himself? He couldn’t tell.

That night, before sleeping, he found himself wandering into the kitchen for a soda. The house was quiet now- he wasn’t used to his house being quiet. It was usually filled with laughter or the buzz of the television, conversations on politics or another stupid topic Y/N was hyperfixating on, the barks of Layla who was now sleeping in her bed in his room.

Funnily enough, he found Sam standing by the fridge with a glass of milk in his hand, the soft glow of his phone screen illuminating his features while he scrolled through an article intently. When he opened the fridge, Sam jolted with surprise at the company. He hadn’t heard him wandering in.

Jake smirked, the light of the fridge casting a glow on his smile. “Still got that weird milk habit, huh?”

“And you still get hungry in the night?” Sam chuckled.

Jake shrugged. “People always tell me it’s unhealthy,” he started, pulling out a can of soda and popping its lid open. “But look at me, I’m shredded,” confidently, he took a sip from the can, a childlike mischief playing on his face.

Sam smiled, watching his brother slowly return to something resembling his old self. It was subtle, almost imperceptible at first- small changes that anyone else might’ve missed. But Sam noticed.

It was in the way Jake had started cracking jokes again, slipping in dry remarks like he used to. The way he joined conversations without needing to be coaxed, adding his own thoughts instead of just nodding along. He still had his quiet moments, still seemed lost in his head sometimes, but there was a shift- like the weight on his shoulders wasn’t as crushing as before.

Tonight, especially, felt different. There was something familiar in the way Jake leaned against the fridge, soda can in hand, relaxed despite the exhaustion clinging to him. Sam knew it would take time- maybe a long time- but at least now, he had hope.

“How was your day?” Sam asked.

“Good, for the most part. Hated that barbeque but I should start getting used to it, I suppose,” he shrugged. “Y/N was asking me about what I wanna do for my career today.”

“What?” Sam laughed. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, she was talking about what dad had said the other day, that I should work with you in the company. But I don’t want that,” he took another sip of his soda. “I told her that maybe I’ll dabble in song writing, composition, shit like that-”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Sam nodded and finished the last of his milk. He moved to wash it, making sure Jake caught the support in his voice.

“That’s exactly what Y/N and Mark said,” Jake mumbled. “I didn’t know you guys talked about me to her- or anyone. I didn’t realise everyone’s that concerned”

Sam didn’t know what to say for a moment. Was he meant to scold him for not realising that obviously his family would be concerned for him? Was he meant to apologize? Was he meant to feel guilty for discussing him? Was he meant to defend himself and everyone that cared about him?

“We worry,” Sam agreed. “And we don’t want to pressure you.”

“Right,” Jake nodded. “But why Y/N? She’s so young, she’s barely getting started-”

“Isn’t she the same age as Jungwon?” Sam pondered. “Wasn’t he your leader?”

It wasn’t until Sam said it that Jake realised the resemblance. Jungwon was strong-willed and while being young, he was still the most responsible and considerate of them all. Jungwon led an entire group while still figuring himself out, just as Y/N navigated a demanding career while proving her worth in a room full of people older than her. They weren’t the loudest or the most assertive, but their quiet confidence commanded respect. They adapted, learned fast, and took responsibility even when they didn’t have to- because that’s just who they were. It was like they were cut from the same cloth.

“Y/N has just always been like this,” Sam continued. “It’s been easy for most of us to talk to her about things in general- work, family, life. She’s the most unbiased. So her judgement usually isn’t cloudy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “In the company, after me, everyone expects her to take over.”

“You’re joking,” Jake quipped.

“She’s got the sharpest instincts in the room. You’d think she’s too young, but she carries herself like she’s been doing this for decades,” Sam said with pride.

“I can’t lie,” Jake finished his soda and threw it in the trash. “I see it.” It was in her mannerisms, the way she deadpanned and quipped at everyone, looked out for him when she didn’t have to, worried about him along with his parents. Jake saw it, he saw how strong-headed she was.

“And also, to be honest. Maybe there’s some bias involved,” Sam admitted. “She’s like the daughter mom and dad never had.”

“Oh,” Jake said.

“And think about it. You and I are like the sons Mark and Evelyn never had. So, yeah, I guess we’re like one big family. We’re all gonna look out for each other.”

You and I. Me. Jake was part of the equation- he always was.

iii. safety nets- distractions

Sam had always been the kind of older brother every kid wished for. Seven years older, he was more than just a sibling- he was Jake’s first best friend, his coach, his protector. It wasn’t like their parents were absent or lacking in any way, but with the age gap between them, Sam had naturally taken on the role of looking out for Jake. He made sure Jake never felt lonely, never felt like the little brother who was too young to tag along.

When Jake was a kid, Sam would spend entire afternoons with him in the backyard, coaching him through soccer drills like he was training a professional player instead of a scrawny seven-year-old who could barely kick straight. Sam never got frustrated, never told him to give up- he’d just laugh, ruffle Jake’s hair, and say, “Try again, little man.” And Jake would, every single time, because if Sam believed he could do it, then he had to at least try.

Even when Sam got older, when he had his own friends, his own responsibilities, he never stopped making time for Jake. It wasn’t forced—it never felt like an obligation. Sam just showed up. If Jake had homework he was struggling with, Sam would sit next to him at the kitchen table, breaking down math problems like it was the easiest thing in the world. If Jake needed a partner for a science project, Sam would make a mess of their living room building whatever ridiculous contraption Jake had dreamed up. And if Jake was having a rough day, Sam just knew. He wouldn’t ask too many questions; he’d just hand him a controller and say, “One round of FIFA, loser. Don’t cry when I win.”

School trips were something else entirely. When Jake was in middle school and parents were required to chaperone, it was Sam who showed up instead. He was already in college by then, but he never acted like it was a hassle. He’d lean against the classroom doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face, and suddenly every girl in Jake’s class was whispering and giggling behind their hands. “Oh my god, is that your brother?” they’d ask, eyes wide, and Jake, half-annoyed but mostly proud, would groan and mutter, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Sam never made a big deal out of it, but he always made sure Jake had fun. Whether it was guiding their group through a museum or sitting with Jake at lunch so he wouldn’t have to awkwardly find a spot, Sam had this way of making things easy. And for Jake, who had spent his whole childhood looking up to his older brother, that meant everything.

Even now, after all these years, after everything Jake had gone through, Sam was still showing up. Still watching out for him, just like he always had. So when Jake realised Sam had the entire family looking out for him and keeping his empty space occupied, he wasn’t surprised, just grateful. They had woven a silent but careful web of distractions around him, filling every gap in his day with something, anything, so he never had to sit alone with his thoughts for too long. It was subtle, never suffocating, but now that Jake thought about it, he realized just how much effort had gone into keeping him occupied.

His mom made sure he spent time in the kitchen, roping him into preparing meals like he used to, subtly reminding him of the simple joys of cooking. His dad and Mark invited him to his workshop, handing him tools and asking for help with fixing things that probably didn’t even need fixing. Evelyn would constantly ask him to set the table or carry their groceries in, making sure it was mundane enough to not raise his suspicions, to make him feel useless. Sam dragged him to the gym with him in the mornings, making it seem like an impromptu decision every time but never once letting Jake refuse. When dragging him to malls or the theatre, he’d bring Y/N along with them, pitching new movies they could watch or propose to go to the arcade.

“You’re pushing forty,” Y/N would say every time.

“I’m not even thirty-five, yet,” Sam would respond every time.

Y/N was rather the silent one. Jake knew, from whatever Sam had told him, that she cared about him. She could pretend like she forgot him, didn’t like him, was obligated to him, but he still knew she cared. She wasn’t the type to do things or ask questions to people she didn’t care about. Everyday, without a doubt, she would ask him how his day was and if he did anything worthwhile. She would run past his room every morning to greet him, brought him a cup of coffee- his favourite, mocha latte- after work and by the end of the day, she would tell him, without fail, to sleep well. It was become a routine, predictable. And Jake didn’t know if he was allowed to find comfort in that.

She even started approaching him more often. He could be with Sam or he could be alone but she would approach him and tell him about her day- how Sam annoyed her a little more than usual or how her favourite barista in the coffee shop she visited regularly had been fired. She would tell him about how Diane and Evelyn often conference called her while she was at work, hoping to catch up with her but their timings were so bad that they’d always call her while she was in a meeting and she’d always get in trouble. She told him about how when she first started work, she used to spend longer working hours stretching into the night and how Rob used to scold her for it.

“I keep thinking I need to prove myself when I fail to realise that I already have.”

Somewhere, somehow, she became the easiest distraction. Most of the time, she didn’t even have to speak. Y/N never even liked speaking to fill the silence. She never tiptoed around him or treated him like he was fragile. If she wanted an answer, she would ask him. If she wanted to go on a walk, she invited him. If she had to run an errand, she’d drag him and Sam along. Sometimes, she didn’t even say anything- she’d just hand him a cup of coffee, sit down next to him, and that was that. No questions, no expectations. Just quiet company.

Y/N’s life wasn’t a construct of secondhand interactions anymore to him- she was starting to become clearer and clearer in his head.

That afternoon, Y/N’s words about wanting to prove herself rang in his head, repeating like a broken tape recorder while he sat on his bed, guitar in his hand. A pile of crumpled sheet music was strewn across the room, a notebook with crossed out lyrics sitting in front of him. Frustrated, he started playing his guitar, trying to find a new melody. She continued in soft, uncertain strums that didn’t quite fit together , like puzzle pieces forced into the wrong places. He played them over and over again, fingers ghosting over the strings, brow furrowed in frustration. The words were harder. Every line he wrote felt hollow, every phrase too forced, too distant from what he actually wanted to say.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before flipping through the notebook again. The scratched-out lyrics stared back at him, taunting. Maybe he was trying too hard. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. How did he do this so effortlessly during Enhypen?

“Sounds great.”

Startled, Jake flung his head around to find Y/N leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed and a grin gracing her lips. She looked like she’d just woken up, hair in messy curls and her frame still dressed in pyjamas. They had a holiday at work, so he figured she must have slept in. Sam didn’t even wake him up for gym that morning- he went alone.

“No,” Jake shook his head. “It’s horrible,” he buried his face in his palms out of defeat. “I’m so done,” he grumbled.

“Can I help?” She sauntered into his room and he was suddenly aware of how messy it was. Jake was usually the clean type. He liked making his bed every morning. Folding his laundry and vacuuming his floors were something he loved doing during Enhypen, especially because he was roommates with Niki for a better half of their run together. But now that he was home, he had a habit of slacking and pushing everything to the last minute. It probably wasn’t a good idea.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, glancing at the pile of discarded sheet music on the floor. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore.”

Y/N didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she wandered around his room, stepping over balled-up pages and pausing by his desk. She picked up a crumpled sheet, smoothing it out before reading the half-formed lyrics. Jake watched her carefully, waiting for her to laugh or make some sarcastic remark. But she didn’t. She just hummed under her breath, tilting her head slightly like she was piecing something together.

“This isn’t bad,” she finally said, tapping her fingers against the paper.

Jake scoffed. “That’s generous.”

She ignored him, walking over to his bed and plopping down without a care. “What’s it about?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the neck of his guitar. “I don’t know yet. I thought I did when I started writing, but now…” He exhaled sharply. “Now, it’s just a bunch of words that don’t make sense together.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Then maybe that’s the problem.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “You’re trying to write something without knowing what you want to say. It’s like…” She paused, thinking. “It’s like setting out on a journey without a destination. No wonder you’re going in circles.”

Jake stared at her. He stared at the way she sulked into his headboard, her matting down on her neck. He stared at the way she didn’t think the way they were sitting was odd, with his hand only a breath away from hers, their knees on the verge of touching if either of them moved. Y/N stared back at him, unbeknownst to what was going on in his head. Sam had told him that when they were younger, after Jake had gone off to become a trainee, Y/N had fallen asleep in his room a plethora of times. She would say his room had better ventilation, that his mattress was softer and hers was old and musty. Back then, Sam and the parents thought she just didn’t like being away from Sam because she’d grown attached to him by then. Seeing her now, leaning against his bed like it was her most natural reaction, made him wonder how often she slept over.

Y/N might not tiptoe around him anymore, but he still did.

“You’re right,” Jake swallowed, gulping down his thoughts. “I’m tired.”

Y/N got up from his bed, making her way out. He wasn’t sure what else he expected her to say, just grateful that she said anything in the first place. Was he allowed to expect more from her? The girl he abandoned all those years ago to chase his idol dreams? Was he even allowed to expect things from her? He realised he never really asked, never really apologised.

“Have you eaten yet? Your dad’s calling you down for breakfast.”

Later in the day, while the sun stood at its highest point, Jake found himself crossing their garden to enter the Y/L/N’s house. He was wearing one of his better outfits- a pair black layered baggy jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket to match. With a cap on his head, he sauntered into their house with his hands shoved into his pockets. Upon entering, he saw Evelyn sitting on the couch with her laptop, typing away at whatever work she had to complete. Mark and Y/N were nowhere to be found.

“Hey, aunty,” he chirped.

“Oh, Jake!” Evelyn exclaimed, surprised to find him standing in front of her. “I didn’t even notice you,” she smiled, removing her glasses.

“Sorry,” he scratched the back of her neck. “Um, where is everyone?”

“Oh Mark and your dad went out for a drink, if i’m not wrong,” Jake hummed. “Y/N is upstairs, I think. You can go check. You’re going for a movie right now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Sam’s waiting for her,” Jake pointed a thumb behind his shoulder as though Sam would suddenly appear. He was still sitting on the couch, surfing through television broadcasts with a lazy hand. “He sent me to get her.”

“She must be in her room, honey. Third floor.”

Shyly, he walked up the stairs, feeling Evelyn’s gaze on him until he disappeared up the corner. Jake wasn’t sure why he felt awkward about wandering their house alone. He’d done this multiple times already over the past few weeks and when he was a child- but, granted, their house hadn’t been renovated by then. It was, however, his first time seeing Y/N’s room. Sam had told him stories about her room- yes, stories; not descriptions- like it was mythical. He said her room looked like it came out of Pinterest, perfectly decorated with just the right amount of furniture and trinkets on her walls. He told him about the huge mirror that stood on one of the walls facing the balcony and how it was impossible to take a bad picture in it. He himself had only been inside a handful of times and one of those times included accidentally falling asleep on her bed. He told him that it felt like sleeping on a bag of clouds and swan feather- Jake told him to stop exaggerating. When Y/N found out he slept on her bed, she didn’t speak to him for a whole day. She hated people being in her room.

When he reached the third floor, Jake hesitated. He looked down the hallway and he just knew the door to the right was her room. He didn’t need to check or ask. It exhumed a calling towards him- Jake almost laughed to himself.

Taking a breath, he knocked on her door once. Then twice, and then a third time. He didn’t hear an answer. He frowned and shifted on his feet, wondering what to do next. It couldn’t hurt to just walk in, right?

Cautiously, he turned the knob and cracked the door open, expecting to find her asleep or listening to music on noise cancelling headphones. But he didn’t. Her room was empty but warm, lived-in, but meticulously put together. The sunlight streaming in through the glass wall illuminated the soft, neutral tones of the space- creamy whites, muted beiges, and the occasional deep green from potted plants scattered near in the balcony.

A large, unmade reading chair sat in the corner by a low bookshelf overflowing with books, some stacked haphazardly, others lined neatly. A small lamp with a warm golden glow rested atop it, its light currently off, but Jake could picture her curled up there at night, reading with a cup of tea in hand.

The walls weren’t cluttered but were far from empty. Polaroids were pinned above her desk, some curling at the edges, capturing frozen moments of laughter, travels, and blurry candids of people he recognized- Sam, Mark, Evelyn, his parents. There were a few framed prints scattered among them- ocean waves, constellations, and delicate ink sketches of marine creatures and pictures of her friends, wide smiles pointing at the camera.

The infamous mirror Sam had mentioned stood tall against the opposite wall, its frame sleek, pink and simple, catching the golden sunlight at just the right angle. The bed beside it was neatly made, adorned with soft linen sheets and an assortment of pillows in varying sizes and textures and stuffed toys, one of a shark and another of a dragon. A folded throw blanket was draped over the edge, looking inviting but untouched.

Her desk, however, was the only thing that looked truly used. Papers were stacked unevenly, a notebook left open to a page filled with scribbled notes, and a coffee mug- half full- rested dangerously close to the edge. A pair of reading glasses sat beside it, as if she had just been there moments ago.

Jake took a step inside, his gaze drifting toward the open balcony door, where sheer white curtains swayed lightly in the breeze. It smelled like her- vanilla, salt air, and something distinctly familiar yet hard to place.

Unashamed, Jake took a picture of himself through her mirror to find that Sam was right- it wasn’t possible to take a bad picture in it. It captured the lighting perfectly. Then, he let his fingers dust through the books on her shelf- some that looked brand new and others that looked mangled and lived in, a lone spiderman comic amongst them. Curiously, he opened a book titled “An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures,” flipping through it to find sticky notes, annotations and doodles. It was a thin book but it seemed to be her favourite.

As Jake’s eyes roamed the room, they landed on a partially open door tucked beside the bookshelf. It was subtle, almost blending into the wall, but its presence felt deliberate. Curious, he took a few steps closer, pushing it open further to reveal a spacious dressing room. The sound of a running shower filled the air and he realised she must have been taking a shower.

The soft scent of her perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the faint traces of fabric softener. Shelves lined the walls, holding neatly folded sweaters, carefully arranged shoes, and a row of coats hanging in perfect order. A sleek dresser stood against the far side, a small jewelry stand resting on top, glinting under the warm overhead light.

It felt personal, almost too personal, and for a brief moment, he considered stepping back. But something about the space- about Y/N herself- made it impossible to ignore the quiet attention to detail, the way everything seemed placed with intention.

When he turned around, he spotted how the bathroom door was left cracked open. He didn’t mean to notice it- he almost felt guilty when he realised what his eyes landed on. But somehow, as sheer curiosity took over to him, he found himself stepping closer to the bathroom door. Through the crack, he could see the green tiles and white paint in her bathroom and a rectangular mirror that hung above the basin. In the mirror, he saw Y/N’s reflection, face calm and unmoving as she lathered soap onto her naked arms. In that moment, Jake should have ran- abort and pretend like he never saw anything.

But he couldn’t move.

His feet planted onto the ground and his eyes continued to roam, his hand clutched the center of his shirt as though he wanted to reach for his heart. He could see the perk of her nipples, the valley of her breasts and her curve of her waist- her waist that he was sure he could wrap his hands around in perfect harmony. Then, his eyes moved to her mouth- her mouth that was singing something, her lips wrapping around the lyrics of a song he couldn’t hear while she rinsed off soap with a handshower.

Jake should have left by now- he could hear his heart telling him to leave, screaming to him that this wasn’t right, that he’d seen too much already. But then his dick twitched and he didn’t know what to do anymore. He simply stood there, watching her shower and sing, her hair wet and reaching the curve of her ass, hands touching herself as the water glided down her body.

But perhaps it was when he saw her reaching the handshower between her legs that his conscience snapped back. He turned away, launching himself back into her room as quietly as he could. He left her room and ran back down the stairs, his heart pounding in his ears as though he had done something criminal- it might as well have.

He saw Y/N naked.

Y/N. Naked.

He knew about five people that would beat him to pulp if they found out he was peeping like some sort of creep. He felt creepy- he felt icky… but somehow, he didn’t feel guilty. Scared, petrified, confused at how his body was reacting, icky, disgusted even. But not guilty. So much so that he knew that night, he would end up fisting himself at the thought of her and her naked on top of him, doing all the filthy things one could imagine.

“Is Y/N not there?” Evelyn asked when he stumbled down the stairs, a dazed look on his face. She was still on the couch, doing work, her glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose.

“Um, she’s showering,” he stumbled on his words, biting his lips, then his cheek. He looked everywhere but at Evelyn, Y/N’s mother, unable to get the thoughts of her slapping him if she found out what he just saw.

“Are you going to be late for the film?”

“Oh, no, we have plenty of time,” he assured, swinging his arms around aimlessly and tapping his foot.

“Then just wait for her honey, I’m sure she won't take long.”

And he did wait for her, sitting beside Evalyn on the couch with his hands clasped on his lap, innocently scrolling through his phone while all the ocean’s waves crashed in his chest. He received a message from Sam, asking what was taking so long, but Jake didn’t reply. He was too stunned to reply, to sit there and tell him that she was showering and that he’d seen her in her shower, naked and sexy with water dripping all over her.

“Is she still not down?” Evelyn’s disappointed sigh brought Jake back to reality. He could hear her tutting, reaching for her phone, presumably to call Y/N. “It says her phone is busy. Do you mind going up and checking again, Jake?”

Hesitantly, tentatively, Jake made his way to her room again. He stood in front of her door and stared, her brown, wooden door that taunted him and ridiculed him and shamed him- he willed himself to try and forget, to move on and pretend like it never happened.

He knocked. And he heard her voice.

“Mom? I’m on the phone, could you give me a minute?” He heard her yell.

Jake gulped. “It’s Jake.”

“Oh, sorry, come in!”

So Jake opened her door for the second time, this time finding her sitting on the edge of her bed in her pajamas, her damp hair falling down her back in subtle waves. She held her phone to her ear, mumbling something to her friend before hanging up. Jake stood at the entrance, his hands awkwardly hanging on his side. He just stood there and stared and Y/N must have caught on to his off behaviour and titled her head.

“Everything ok?”

Jake opened his mouth before his brain formed words to speak. When he realised, he closed his mouth again, raising a finger instinctively to figure out what to say. Suddenly, his tongue felt too big to fit in his mouth.

“Movie?”

“Oh, right, I forgot!” Y/N jumped out of her bed and made her way back to her dressing room. “I’m so sorry, give me a minute to change and I’ll be right down.”

Relief- and disappointment but Jake wouldn’t let himself admit it- was the only thing he felt when the movie ended and he, Sam and Y/N were working their way down the mall and into the parking lot. He could hear Y/N rambling about the philosophies and cinematography that the movie held and normally, Jake would have things to say about it too. But he stayed silent, looking around the mall and focusing on the kids running around with chocolate in their hands and the couples that wandered around the shops and boutiques.

The whole drive back, all he could think about was Y/N- the way he could feel the heat radiating between them when she absentmindedly sat beside him in the theatre, how their hands would brush against each others while reaching for the popcorn or how they’re feet kicked together whenever they laughed at a scene in the film.

It was nothing, really. Just small, meaningless touches. Accidental. Unintentional. But then why did it linger? Why was he still thinking about it, even now, watching the headlights of passing cars blur into streaks?

He glanced at her in the passenger seat, illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard. She was scrolling through her phone, completely unaware of the hurricane in his head.

He exhaled slowly, turning his gaze back to the window.

This was stupid.

But for the first time, he wondered what it would be like if it wasn’t.

iv. i can be your batman, you be robin

Unexpectedly, one evening, just as he was about to fall asleep, he received a phone call. On his screen flashed the names of people he once felt the most familiar around, ones that once made up his entire world- Jay. Heeseung. Sunoo. Niki. Sunghoon. Jungwon.

His heart clenched. It had been a while. Too long. His thumb rushed to accept the call and suddenly, the once-familiar faces filled his screen. The room was instantly flooded with overlapping voices, laughter, and exclamations.

“Jake Hyung!” He heard Jungwon screaming, his bunny-lime smile filling his screen. “Did we wake you?”

“Watch him fall back asleep, he’s always the first to sleep,” Sunoo laughed with a hand on his mouth.

“No, no. This is… this is good,” Jake chuckled and rubbed his eyes. “Hey… I’ve missed you guys.”

Jungwon grinned. “We figured we should all check in. It’s been a while, huh?”

“Too long,” Heeseung nodded. “It’s weird not seeing you guys every day.”

“We used to be in each other’s faces twenty-four seven,” Niki chimed in. “Now my mom complains that I sleep too much.”

“Same,” Sunghoon said. “My sister actually told me I’m annoying.”

They talked over each other, voices colliding in a chaotic but comforting mess. Someone was complaining about their younger sibling, someone else was recalling an old inside joke, and before long, they were all laughing- loud, raw, unfiltered laughter. The kind that tightened his chest but made it feel lighter at the same time.

They reminisced about late-night practices, the exhaustion that only they could understand, the little traditions they had before going on stage. They talked about their families, about adjusting to life outside the limelight. Everyone had found their way home, but that didn’t mean they didn’t miss what they had.

“Remember that one time we got locked out of the dorm?” Niki suddenly said, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Oh god,” Jay groaned. “Not this story again.”

“No, no, let him tell it,” Jungwon grinned.

Niki leaned forward dramatically. “So, picture this: we just finished practice at like, 2 AM, right? We get to the dorm, and guess what? No keys. No phone. No manager to save us. And it’s freezing.”

“I remember Sunoo was about to cry,” Sunghoon smirked.

“I was not!” Sunoo shot back, scandalized. “I was just- mildly concerned for my well-being.”

“Sure,” Heeseung drawled. “Anyway, we had to sleep in the practice room that night, right? I think I used Sunghoon as a pillow.”

“Worst sleep of my life,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

“Best sleep of mine,” Heeseung grinned.

Jake listened, letting their voices wash over him. He laughed along, but there was an ache in his chest, subtle but persistent. They were all home now, living different lives, adjusting to the quiet after years of chaos. But no matter how good things were, no matter how much they pretended, there was still a part of them that missed it. Missed each other.

“We really went through it, huh?” Jungwon mused after a moment, his tone softer now.

“Yeah,” Jake murmured, shifting against his pillows. His voice held something else, something unsaid.

Silence stretched for a second, not awkward, just… heavy. They all felt it.

Jay was the first to break it. “So, Jake. What have you been up to?”

Jake ruffled his bangs and mulled over the question for a minute. What was he doing? Passing his days with the aim of starting another day the same way? Letting his family members take care of him like he was still a broken child? Writing unworthy music in hopes of making a career? He was too embarrassed to even say, especially when everyone else seemed to have so much going on.

Sunghoon had started training children in ice skating and with his background, companies were flocking for him to be their employee and even raised his salary by threefold. Jay was working in his dad’s travel company like he was always meant to. Jungwon took up karate again and was hoping to partake in championships. Niki started working in a dance company with his sisters. Sunoo was looking to tie up with cosmetics brands and hopefully create a line of vitamins and skin-care. Heeseung found a job as a music teacher in a local high school and he said working with passionate students was more fulfilling than he had expected.

“Just with family, at the moment,” he admitted. “Seeing if I can write any music to send to labels.”

“That’s great, man!” Heeseung chirped. “I knew you’d get into something like this.”

“Yeah, he bet on it,” Niki laughed.

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, I hope it goes well.”

“How’s the family?” Sunghoon chirped.

“They’re all well. They’re great,” Jake nodded. “My family and my neighbours' family are really taking care of me.”

“Neighbour? Oh, Y/N’s family?”

To be honest, Jake barely mentioned Y/N to them. He was surprised when they even remembered. There were times in the night when he’d remember her existence and stalk her instagram to find recent posts of hers. He watched her grow up to be the woman she was through her instagram posts and through the group pictures and selfies his mother would send him. He showed them what she looked like once through a selfie his mom and her had taken. She was probably only seventeen at the time and he remembered everyone calling her cute and moving on.

“Yeah, her,” Jake said. “I’ve been getting close to her and my brother again, so that’s good. We spend a lot of time together.”

“That’s good, Hyung,” Sunoo said. “I’ve been getting in touch with my old friends, too.”

“It’s good to have family around at this time. I’m glad, Jake,” Jay said.

The call stretched on for longer than expected. No one seemed in a hurry to hang up, even as yawns slipped in between conversations and the glow of their screens cast soft shadows on their tired faces. They were scattered across different places now- different homes, different lives- but for a little while, it felt like nothing had changed. Like they were still the same boys who had once fallen asleep side by side in the practice room, the same boys who had spent years navigating the chaos of their dreams together.

The laughter came in waves, filling the quiet spaces between their words. Some stories were old, retold so many times they no longer needed the details- just a name or a phrase was enough to make them all break into knowing smiles. Others were newer, updates on their lives, glimpses into what came after. They made their families and pets greet everyone, parents asking children how they were doing only to be answered with feigned assurances. The rhythm of their voices, the way they spoke over each other without thinking, the ease in which they slipped back into old habits- it was comforting. But beneath it, there was something else, something unspoken.

It wasn’t the same. It would never be the same. But for now, it was enough.

Eventually, the energy began to dip, the laughter turning into softer chuckles, voices growing slower, heavier. Someone yawned, then another. One by one, they began saying their goodbyes, reluctant but inevitable.

“Let’s do this again soon,” Jungwon said, his voice laced with sincerity.

“Yeah,” Jake murmured. “Soon.”

The screen flickered as each face disappeared, until only his own reflection stared back at him in the dim light. Then, finally, the screen went dark.

Jake lay there for a moment, his phone resting loosely in his hand as he stared up at the ceiling. The room felt quieter than before, the weight of the silence settling over him like a blanket. His chest was heavy, filled with something indescribable- a strange ache, a quiet longing. All he wanted to do was hug them one last time- but at the same time, there was a lightness to it. A warmth.

Y/N barged into his room after work. She had tied her hair into a ponytail but it wasn’t so proper with loose strands of hair sticking out and her hair frizzy due to the heat. She had a LEGO set in her hand that she bought before coming to his house upon hearing that he hadn’t left his room since the morning. She hadn't seen him during lunch either, so she knew something must have been going on in his head.

“What’s that?” Jake asked. He was sitting on his bed, guitar in his hands as he went through the old songs he had sang. Layla slept in his bed, curled into a fluffy ball with her tongue poking out of her mouth.

“The Titanic LEGO set,” Y/N said, proudly smiling at him with her teeth peeking from behind her mouth.

“That’s insane- isn’t it nine thousand pieces? How much did you spend on this?”

“What? Oh, shut up,” Y/N grimaced at him. “Just start it with me, it’ll be fun.”

“Did my mom put you up to this?”

She grimaced at him again. “No. Do you think I babysit people on command?”

“Alright, Alright, sorry.”

Jake glanced at her, a small smile forming. He knew she wasn’t forcing him into this- if he had said no, she would’ve left without another word. But she had come here, straight from work, with this giant LEGO set and an easygoing smile, and for some reason, he didn’t want to say no.

They worked in comfortable silence for a while, sitting on the floor, occasionally breaking into small conversations about the day or laughing at silly mistakes they'd made. The pieces clicked together rhythmically, the scattered instruction sheets spreading around them like a map.

Half an hour later, the door creaked open again.

Sam leaned against the doorframe, eyeing them both. “Okay, I was wondering why it was so quiet. What’s going on here?”

Y/N looked up, tucking her knees under her chin. “We’re building the Titanic.”

Sam snorted. “Of course you are.” He walked in, plopping down beside them with no hesitation. “Let me guess, Jake didn’t actually want to, but now he’s taking it way too seriously?”

“I-” Jake started, then realized he had no real argument. He was taking it seriously now.

Y/N smirked. “Pretty much.”

Sam laughed, grabbing a piece from the pile. “Alright, scoot over. If we’re doing this, I’m not sitting on the sidelines.”

And just like that, the night stretched on, filled with soft laughter, scattered LEGO pieces, and the quiet comfort of being around the right people.

“You know, we had a group call last night?” Jake said while cleaning up for the night. Sam had gone downstairs to help set the table and Y/N agreed to have dinner at their place. The three were barely able to make it quarter way with the LEGO set and agreed to work on it in the coming days.

“Oh?” Y/N said, rubbing dust off her hands.

“Yeah, it was nice,” Jake nodded.

“Just nice?”

“I mean, no. Obviously, it was great,” Jake laughed. “It’s just… it feels like a terrible break up.”

“I get what you mean, Jake,” Y/N nodded and moved closer to him to test the waters. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as he collapsed into the bed.

He buried his hands in his hair. “We laughed, joked, even argued over stupid things. But the whole time, I knew the call was gonna end, and everyone would go back to their own lives. And I don’t know why, but that kind of sucked.”

Y/N didn’t say anything right away, just watched him as lay still on his bed. Over the past months, she’s been watching how his mood fluctuated. Some days, she and Sam were sure he was getting his spark back but then, something happens to bring his mood down- he’s reminded of something. He’s mentioned in the news, he reads an article about Enhypen. Y/N realised it was all about being patient with him.

“Do you think you made a mistake? Disbanding?”

Jake shook his head. “No. But it still stings.”

She nodded, letting the silence settle for a beat before she nudged a LEGO piece towards him. “Well, at least you guys haven’t disappeared from each other’s lives completely.”

Jake glanced at her, then at the LEGO in her hand. “Yeah. Guess that counts for something.”

“It’s okay to miss, Jake. I’m sure they miss you too.”

That night, before falling asleep, Jake cried into his pillow for the second time. It wasn’t the kind of crying that came with loud sobs or shaking shoulders—just a quiet, tired release. His face pressed into the fabric, muffling the uneven breaths as the weight of everything settled in. The group call had been good- really good- but it had also peeled back something he hadn’t been ready to look at so closely.

He missed it. He missed them.

And that night, through his tears, he wrote a song. He wrote a song that spilled out all his guts- about Enhypen, about his loneliness, about Y/N, about himself.

v. almost, almost- and then

The anniversary dinner was vibrant- Diana and Rob were beaming at their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, their hands intertwined under the table as they soaked in the love around them. A grand chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, its crystals reflecting soft specks of light across the room. A grand piano hummed softly in the background, the melody weaving effortlessly between bursts of laughter and the gentle clinking of silverware against fine china.

Each table was set with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate wine glasses that caught the flickering candlelight. Floor-to-ceiling windows reveal a breathtaking city skyline in the distance, the lights of the buildings shimmering against the deep indigo sky. A soft murmur of conversation fills the space, blending with the distant notes of a live jazz band playing in the corner- smooth, unintrusive, the perfect background to the night.

Servers glide seamlessly between tables, refilling glasses of expensive wine and delivering beautifully plated dishes- filet mignon drizzled with a rich reduction, fresh seafood resting on beds of saffron-infused risotto, vibrant salads topped with edible flowers. The air carries a mix of aromas- seared butter, truffle, aged wine- all adding to the indulgence of the evening.

Rob and Diane recounted how they first met as college students. Rob was a business major, Diane a hard-core history major and their paths only crossed due to an elective that neither of them took seriously. He sat behind her, always borrowing a pen and forgetting to return it, and she never let him live it down.

The first time they met outside of college, it was due to a mutual friend who invited them to a bonfire and since then, they’d become friends. Diane was the type to dissect novels over coffee, eyes lighting up as she talked about themes and subtext, while Rob would listen, teasingly pretending to understand before admitting he was just there for the caffeine. She thought he was annoyingly charming; he thought she was terrifyingly smart.

Their love wasn’t immediate- it grew in late-night study sessions, in shared laughter over bad takeout, in the quiet understanding of knowing someone will always show up when you need them.

It wasn’t until a particularly disastrous double date- where Diane was set up with someone else and spent the entire night wishing she wasn’t- that she finally realized it. She left her date at the restaurant, showed up at Rob’s apartment unannounced and professed her love for him.

They got married a few years later, not in a grand wedding but in a small ceremony surrounded by close friends and family. Their love wasn’t about dramatic declarations or fairy-tale intensity- it was about showing up, about choosing each other, over and over again.

And that’s exactly what they had been doing ever since.

When Rob finished telling their story, the table erupted in applause and sappy praises. Y/N, caught in the warmth of the moment, glanced across the table and met Jake’s eyes.

Just for a second. It meant nothing, but a small part of her wished it would.

He smirked slightly, barely perceptible, before taking a sip of his drink. She shook her head, looking away, though there was an undeniable heat crawling up her neck.

Meanwhile, Mark and Evelyn passed them their anniversary gift, a coupon for a cooking class with a famous chef that was coming into town and everyone burst into laughter.

“Mark, your cooking skills are just as bad as mine,” Rob jabbed at Mark but accepted the joke anyway.

Jake gifted them a custom made wine that they promised they’d crack open for a taste back at home. Sam got them a custom made vinyl that included all their favourite songs. Y/N gave them a handmade photo album of the pictures she’s taken of them since she’d known them- from when she was thirteen to twenty-five.

Jake nudged her with his shoulder, wiggling his brows. “That’s an impressive gift,” he praised. “How’d you think of it?”

“To be completely honest,” she started, ignoring the strength of his gaze, the heat of how close his face was. “It was last minute,” Jake laughed and leaned back, finishing the last of his drink as Y/N rolled her eyes. Sam caught sight of their exchange, signaling towards her in curiosity. She simply shook her head and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Y/N didn’t know when she started looking at Jake differently. The crush she had on him when they were children had long faded, dissolving into something distant and unremarkable. When he left, the pedestal she had placed him on disappeared too, replaced by the cold realization that life moves on, with or without the people you thought would always be there. For years, Jake existed to her only in memories- half-formed recollections of laughter in sunlit backyards, inside jokes that lost their meaning over time, and the echo of a boy who once felt larger than life.

And then he came back.

At first, he was just a fragment of the past- familiar but distant, like an old song she used to love but hadn’t listened to in years. She recognized him, but she didn’t know him anymore, not really. He was Jake, but he was also someone entirely different.

Somewhere along the way, though, things shifted. She saw him in the in-between moments- the way he loosened his tie at dinner, the way he leaned back in his chair, quiet but present. She caught the subtle changes in him: the ease in which he navigated conversation, the flashes of his old self woven into someone more composed, more grounded. And somehow, without realizing it, she had stopped seeing him as just a remnant of childhood and started seeing him as a man.

And that realization unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

The dinner wound down in a way that felt natural, warm, and just a little bittersweet.

After the last round of toasts, the servers brought out a beautifully plated anniversary dessert- a chocolate cake with the words Happy Anniversary decorated on it. Diane and Rob, still glowing from the celebration, shared a quiet moment, their hands intertwined as they took the first bite.

Conversations softened as people settled into a comfortable post-meal haze. The older family members reminisced about past anniversaries, the younger ones grew restless, and somewhere in between, Y/N, Jake, and Sam found themselves caught in the cozy lull of it all.

Jake leaned back in his chair, swirling the last sip of wine in his glass. Sam checked his watch, subtly nudging Y/N to start thinking about heading out. Evelyn and Mark joked about who would pick up the tab this year- Mark swore it was his turn, but Sam already had his card out.

Eventually, coats were retrieved, hugs were exchanged, and Diane and Rob thanked everyone for making the night so special.

Outside, the night air was crisp, and the city hummed with life. The family stepped onto the sidewalk together, still wrapped in the lingering warmth of the evening. Mark and Evelyn walked ahead, their laughter carrying through the night, while Diane and Rob strolled behind, their hands intertwined as they whispered to each other.

Jake and Y/N fell into step beside one another, a quiet comfort settling over them as Sam guided them to the car. Sam drove and Y/N sat up front, leaving Jake to his phone in the back. Occasionally, Jake would catch Y/N’s eyes looking at him through the rearview mirror and just as fast as he’d catch her, she’d look away and back at her phone.

“It’s nice to have parents that are so in love,” Sam said.

“Thirty-five years,” Jake said. “That’s crazy.”

“Do you think we’ll ever have that?” Sam mused.

“I can’t lie, Sam,” Y/N started. “I thought you’d be married by now.”

“I’m still young.”

“Mom and dad got married in their twenties.”

“Shut up, Jake.”

Sam had his fair share of love stories when it came to his dating life. He dated a few people during high school, then in college but once he started working, looking for someone that wanted commitment was like looking for a needle in a haystack. He’d been on a plethora of dates before. Some were set up by his friends, others by his parents but nothing seemed to work out. He even had a phase, not many years ago, where he was desperate to settle down and even prayed to God that he’d get married soon and start a family.

Jake didn’t know about that phase.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone, Sam,” Y/N said to him, rubbing his arm before concentrating on her phone again. “I’m sure we all will.”

“Aren’t you too young to know what you want?” Sam asked, unbeknownst. He’d forgotten what it was like to be her age, to be young and filled with hope about what the future could hold. At his age, he’d started losing hope and entered into a stage of acceptance.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugged. “I know what I want now. God knows how I’ll feel five years later, right?”

“Five years go by fast,” Sam sighed.

“Yeah tell me about it,” Y/N scoffed. “I can’t imagine pushing thirty- I don’t know how you did it, bro.”

“The hits just never stop coming,” Sam rolled his eyes and the other two chuckled. They caught each other’s gaze again, this time deliberate and unmistakingly.

Jake’s fingers tapped idly against his knee. “Pushing thirty can’t be so bad,” he mused, his voice just a little softer. “Depends on who you’re spending it with.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, barely perceptible.

Sam, completely unaware, let out a dramatic sigh. “If you two are gonna start getting existential, I might actually drive this car into the river.”

Y/N tore her gaze away first, shaking her head with a quiet laugh. But even as she looked away, she felt it- Jake’s stare, lingering like a thought left unfinished.

When Sam parked in their garage, he said he’d see them at the Y/L/N’s house. Their parents had already made their way there, buzzing to open the bottle of Jake’s wine. Y/N and Jake found themselves stuck in the hall, leaving them in the aftermath of the evening.

Y/N sank into the couch, exhaling as the evening settled into her bones. The soft hum of the house filled the quiet, but it felt different now- like something was brewing beneath it. She barely had a moment to gather her thoughts before Jake walked in, a glass of water in hand.

“Here,” he said, handing it to her.

His fingers brushed against hers as she took the glass, and she swore she felt it more than she should have. She lifted it to her lips, taking a slow sip, before setting it on the table. When she glanced back at him, he was still looking at her.

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” she cracked him a grin, letting her hands fall to her waist to feel the fabric of her black dress, hugging her curves in all the right places. He looked at her like he knew exactly what was underneath- which he did but she didn’t know that. “You look quite dapper in the suit, too,” she said.

Jake chuckled with a nod, ridding himself of his blazer before collapsing beside her too. Jake loosened his tie, letting out a slow breath as he settled beside her. His shoulder brushed against hers, not by accident, and she felt the warmth of him seep through the space between them.

“I forgot how exhausting these things could be,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Really?”She let out a laugh. “You’ve been to bigger events than this as an idol, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But it’s different.”

“Right,” she nodded. “What was it like? The idol life.”

Since he’d been back, this was the first time anyone in his family had asked him the question. It almost felt like everyone was tiptoeing around it- knowing but not knowing, avoiding but begging. When Y/N let the question spill from her mouth, it felt like a weight had lifted.

“Haven't you watched any of our videos? Interviews?” Jake asked and felt himself frown when she shook her head.

“I’ve listened to your music and everything,” she admitted. “But the rest… your mom watched everything. Like every single thing and sometimes, if I’m in the hall, I’ll watch with her. I’ve seen glimpses. That’s all.”

“That’s fair,” he said, bringing his lips between his teeth. “Life isn’t the way they show it on the internet, anyway.”

“I figured,” she said. “I heard it’s rough.”

“It is- especially I-Land. God I hated it,” he groaned. “But, to be honest, we had it easier than some of the other groups.”

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” she said. “The past eight years of your life- it’s just been non-stop. Albums, interviews, tours, filming, cameras 24/7. Makes me wonder if you had time for anything else.”

“Like what?”

“Life in general, I guess?” Y/N shrugged. “You never got to experience all the normal things in life- college, dating, friends, family.”

“I meant, the members were my friends- we basically lived a lifetime's worth together,” Jake leaned over to take the abandoned glass of water. “Plus, we all have dated before,” he said, slowly bringing the rim of the glass to his lips and keeping a cheeky gaze on Y/N perked expression.

“Is it?” She raised her brows.

“Yeah, well it wasn’t like a priority,” he dabbled. “I wasn’t a monk but yeah. I’ve been with people,” he placed the glass in its previous position and rolled up his sleeves. The veins in his arms burgled, the muscle wrapped around his bones all the more evident. Y/N pretended not to notice.

“People? Plural?”

Jake shrugged, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “I mean, not a lot. I wasn’t out here having some wild double life. But it happened.”

“Who?” she pressed.

He gave her a look. “You expect me to name names?”

“Obviously.”

Jake laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “A couple were people in the industry- idols, dancers. People who got it, you know? No attachments, no drama. And then a couple outside of it, whenever I had the time.”

Y/N processed that. It makes sense. He had spent years balancing an insane schedule, under constant scrutiny. A full-fledged relationship must’ve felt impossible. Not just because of time- though that was reason enough- but because of the pressure, the expectations. The way love, for him, could never just be his. It belonged to headlines, to speculations, to strangers who thought they knew him better than he knew himself.

She could picture it now- the missed calls, the messages left on read, the late nights where exhaustion pressed heavier than longing. The way something as simple as meeting someone for coffee could turn into a scandal overnight. How could anyone sustain something real under those circumstances?

And yet… Here he was.

Sitting beside her in the quiet, where no cameras could reach, no voices could interfere. Just them. She glanced at him, at the way his fingers rested on his knee, the way he looked at her like he was waiting for something- an answer, maybe. Or maybe just for her to understand.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“What?”

“How was your life?” He continued, moving on from their previous conversation. “You know, after I left.”

“You say that like we were close,” she chuckled.

“So?” He pressed. “Go on, I wanna know.”

“I feel like you don’t really know me,” she said, resting her head on the couch. “Like, you’ve missed a lot.”

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

She exhaled, rolling her lips together like she was deciding whether to say it at all. “You were gone for a long time, Jake.”

He didn’t argue.

Y/N studied him for a moment, finding regret in his glassy eyes. “You weren’t there when I had my first friendship break up and Sam had to lull me to sleep- you know what I mean? Like, you weren’t there to know.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t there, I got it.”

“failed my first job interview because I was so nervous I forgot my own name.” She laughed at herself, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And I spent a whole year thinking I wanted to be a photographer before realizing I wasn’t actually any good at it. And I took a break year after high school because I was so depressed and lost that I just wanted to rot in bed. This was after the remodeling so at least I got to do that in style.”

Jake watched her closely, his chest tightening with something complicated, something that feels a lot like regret. He should have been there for those moments. Not just the milestones, but the quiet, insignificant ones, too. The late-night doubts, the tiny victories, the way she figured herself out piece by piece.

He missed it all.

“Now, even my closest friends are scattered in different countries. The only people I ever really had were my parents and your family,” she said. “Sam was really the only person I trusted for a really long time.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not that serious, though. I know I say it like a sob story,” she laughed. “I’m so content with where I am now.”

“I’m glad, Y/N,” Jake trailed off, letting his fingers find a place on her knee. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why it felt so weird when you left,” she continued. “I think you were my first introduction to life… you know that quote? Nothing stays the same? You made me realise that.”

Jake swallowed, hard.

“Y/N…”

“No, seriously,” Y/N smiled again, trying to assure him that he needn’t feel guilty. But talking about herself for the first time felt freeing. For the longest time, it was always about him- his problems, his issues, his needs and his protection. Now he was listening to her, all the sorrows, grieves, wins and achievements that made her who she was. “I love my life right now.”

“I should have stayed in touch,” he whispered.

Y/N let out a small scoff, but there was no real bite to it. “Yeah, well. You didn’t.”

The silence that followed was thick, stretching between them like a thread pulled too tight. Neither of them moved, neither of them spoke. The hum of the house felt distant now, drowned out by the weight of everything that had been left unsaid.

Then, softly- so softly that Jake almost didn’t hear it- Y/N murmured, “I hate you a little bit.”

His stomach twisted. It wasn’t the words themselves, but the way she said them. Fragile, unguarded. A quiet confession laced with something bitter, something vulnerable. She hadn’t meant it, not really. But it still landed somewhere deep inside him, settling in the space between regret and longing.

Jake exhaled slowly, tilting his head as he studied her. “Yeah?”

She nodded, watching him carefully. “Yeah.”

But her voice wavered just slightly, and that was when he saw it- the way her fingers tightened against her lap, the way her chest rose and fell a little too deliberately. She wasn’t just angry. She was hurt.

Jake shifted closer, just a fraction, barely enough to call it movement. But she noticed. He saw the flicker of something in her eyes, something sharp and aching. The hand that was placed on her knee pressed further into her skin and she let him, her eyes darting between his. Her lips were pulled between her teeth in curiosity, anticipating.

Her gaze flickered- to his lips, to his hands and then back to his eyes. Then, with a quiet breath, Jake leaned in just a little more, not enough to close the distance, but enough to make her heart race in her chest. He swallowed and his lips parted but it did nothing to steady him.

“Good.”

Slowly, softly, he placed his lips on hers- almost as though he was testing the waters, waiting to see what her reaction would be. And then she moved, bringing herself closer to him and her hands wrapping around his neck. His hands flew towards her waist, sliding towards her hips and their lips moved in harmony. Jake could feel the world around him come back together in one piece- perhaps this was all that he needed, her hands in his hair, his fingers buried in the skin of her legs.

Her dress limited her movements and when he realised, Jake took no time in lifting the hem of her dress to her waist and dragging her onto his lap. Yelping into his mouth, she chuckled and continued to kiss him- breathless and desperate as the air around them finally seemed to settle, as though this was what was meant to happen all this while.

“I’ve waited for this,” Jake tilted his head and placed another kiss on her lips. “For so long,” then he kissed her cheek and trailed them down her neck, playing with the strap of her dress before ultimately pulling them down.

Her tits spilled out of the dress, the dress bunching at her waist as cool air hit her skin. She let her fingers unbutton his shirt, hands trailing to feel the skin underneath- warmth and curves that she didn’t know she needed to touch until then.

“I missed you, Jake,” she found herself saying between breaths. “I really missed you.”

vi. 偷偷藏不住

The song Jake had written and perfected all those months ago? He’d finally sent it out to a list of labels and he hadn’t told anyone. And he wasn’t planning on it either. Not because he didn’t want to or because he was selfish- it was because he didn’t want to jinx. Over his time in Korea, he’d started believing in superstitions and found that sometimes, though it didn’t seem natural, they just made sense. He didn’t want to think about it.

He focused on Y/N instead. Jake leaned back in the chair, watching Y/N from across the room. She was reading, her legs tucked beneath her as she sat on the couch. She didn’t seem to notice his gaze, but he couldn’t help it. It had become almost natural to look at her, to appreciate the quiet moments when she was lost in something, anything, and how she looked when she didn’t realize he was watching.

He wanted to tell her about the song, to tell her about the labels he’d sent it to. He wanted to share this part of his life with her- something that meant a lot, something that felt like it could change everything. But he didn’t want to risk it. Not yet.

"Hey," he said softly, breaking the silence.

Y/N looked up, meeting his eyes with a small smile. "Yeah?"

He felt that familiar flutter in his chest. There was something about her presence that had become his anchor, the thing he always wanted to come back to after everything else.

“Wanna go do something?”

The pair found themselves at the beach, bikini and trunks clad as they hopped into the car in the middle of the night. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was louder, the rhythm almost hypnotic. The moon cast a pale glow over the water, and the sand felt soft beneath their feet.

Jake kicked off his shoes, and Y/N followed suit without a word. The sand was cool against her skin as they walked along the shore, the sound of their footsteps swallowed by the waves. It was peaceful, but there was an energy in the air, an unspoken current between them.

“This is exactly what I needed,” Y/N said softly, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. She glanced up at him, her smile warm. “You always know how to pick the perfect places.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He was too busy watching her, trying to read the subtle shifts in her expression. “You look happy,” he said, his voice low.

“I’m always happy,” she looked at him confused, though her smile refused to leave her mouth.

“You know, you should really let me take you out more. The beach, I mean. Doesn’t seem right to keep coming here alone.”

Y/N smirked, glancing at him sidelong. “Yeah? And you think I’d let you drag me around more?”

“Maybe,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “If you let me, I think I’d be able to.”

They started off just walking along the shore, the waves occasionally rushing up to their feet. It was quiet at first, the air between them still carrying the weight of unspoken things. But then, without thinking much about it, Y/N bent down and scooped up a handful of wet sand, letting it slip through her fingers.

Jake, watching her, smirked. “Don’t even think about it.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be innocent. “Think about what?”

Jake didn’t trust her for a second, stepping back cautiously. “You’re gonna throw that at me.”

She grinned. “Am I?”

Before he could react, she flicked the remaining sand in his direction- not enough to be a real attack, just enough to be annoying. Jake let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Alright. You asked for it.”

Without warning, he lunged toward her. Y/N yelped and tried to take off running, but he was faster, grabbing her wrist and spinning her back toward him. They were both breathless, tangled in laughter, and before she could think of an escape plan, he lifted a handful of sand and let it sprinkle over the top of her head.

“Jake- ” she gasped, swatting at him. “You- ”

But he was already bolting down the beach, laughing like a kid. Y/N groaned but didn’t hesitate before chasing after him, their footprints overlapping in the sand. The chase was brief—he let her catch him. And when she did, she shoved him lightly, but instead of letting her go, he caught her hand, pulling her into a sudden spin.

They stumbled into the surf, waves washing over their ankles, the water shockingly cold. But neither of them cared. They were still laughing, breathless, eyes locked for a beat too long.

Jake’s grin softened, his hands still lightly holding hers. “Truce?” he asked, though his voice carried something else, something softer.

Y/N tilted her head, lips curving mischievously. “I don’t know. I kind of liked seeing you flustered.”

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

And yet, he didn’t let go.

“I’m really glad things turned out this way,” Jake mumbled, sliding his hands onto her forearms.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” she said. “The last thing I expected to happen but- I’m glad.”

“I don’t want to mess things up,” he admitted. “I don’t want anything to change.”

“What could possibly go wrong?”

They lay there, supine on the beach, the cool grains of sand tangling into their hair and clinging to their damp clothes. The tide hummed a steady rhythm in the distance, the waves kissing the shore before pulling back.

Neither of them spoke for a while, letting the silence stretch between them, filled only by the whisper of the wind and the distant cries of seabirds. The sky, once speckled with stars, had begun its slow transformation- deep blues fading into softer shades, the first streaks of pink and gold bleeding into the horizon.

Jake turned his head slightly, glancing at Y/N. Her eyes were fixed on the sky, a serene expression softening her features. He resisted the urge to reach out, to brush the sand off her cheek, to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Instead, he exhaled, letting his fingers curl into the sand beside hers, close but not quite touching.

As the first light of morning stretched over the ocean, she finally spoke, her voice quiet, like she didn’t want to disturb the moment. “We should head back.”

Jake hummed in agreement, but neither of them moved right away. It wasn’t until the sky had fully surrendered to the dawn that they finally pushed themselves up, dusting off the remnants of the night.

It was probably one of the tiny, frustrating connector pieces that held larger sections together- the kind that looked identical to five others but somehow wouldn’t fit wherever it was supposed to. Maybe they were struggling with part of the hull, where two large sections needed to snap into place but keep misaligning, or a delicate detail like the tiny lifeboats that wouldn’t sit right.

Jake, exasperated, insisted they were missing a piece. Y/N argued that they just weren’t looking hard enough. Sam found them arguing when he walked in and it was almost comical.

“How are you so stupid?!”

“I’m not stupid, you’re just not reading the instructions right!”

“Is this how you want to spend the weekend?” He laughed, standing between the pair that were laying stomach down on the floor in Jake's carpeted room. “Have nothing better to do?”

“We’re finishing this before Monday or I’ll lose my shit, I swear,” Y/N pointed a threatening finger at both of them. “I keep seeing it half cooked sitting on his shelf and it’s driving me off the walls.”

Sam gave her a puzzled look. “You visit his room that often?” He looked between the pair.

Jake and Y/N, caught off guard, started looking at each other, wide eyes and pursed lips. They didn’t know what to say to him, allow him into their secret or gaslight him until he left. Y/N wasn’t even sure why he asked such a question.

“Sam, help us or leave!”

Sam lingered for a second, looking between them with suspicion but ultimately shrugging it off. He figured that if there was anything weird going on between the pair, he would have caught on by now. But unbeknownst to him, the pair had been dating for a couple of months now, stealing stolen moments with their hands clasped under the table during lunch, taking Layla out on walks, grocery shopping together and sneaking into each other’s rooms in the middle of the night. They felt like teenagers all over again, not having experienced such a rendezvous as children.

Sam helped them, though not without rolling his eyes first. He plopped down beside them, picking up a random piece and squinting at the half-finished model.

“You two are way too invested in this,” he muttered, trying, and failing, to snap a section into place.

Jake scoffed. “Says the guy who just sat down to help.”

Y/N smirked, nudging Sam’s shoulder. “Face it, you can’t resist a challenge.”

The room settled into a concentrated quiet, filled only with the occasional snap of plastic bricks clicking together and the muttered curses when a piece refused to fit.

At one point, Jake’s hand brushed against Y/N’s, lingering for just a second too long. She shot him a look- half warning, half fondness. He smirked but said nothing.

Sam, blissfully unaware, kept building.

“We’ve scheduled another group call tonight,” Jake piped while trying to pluck apart a pair of parts he accidentally stuck together.

“Oh?” Sam smiled.

“Yeah, I’m excited,” he continued. “It’s been a while. I think the last time was a couple months ago- before mom and dad’s anniversary.”

“Yeah, I think the last time you told me, Heeseung’s brother was getting engaged,” Y/N mulled over the details that Jake told her all those months ago but ultimately gave up.

“So everyone’s getting married but me?” Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, huffing as he continued to read the instructions of the LEGO set.

The pair ignored him. “Yeah,” Jake confirmed. “My birthday’s coming up, right? So they all said they wanted to call. I think this is gonna become a norm- I hope so, at least.”

“I hope so, too,” Y/N smiled at him and they silently went back to playing with their impossible set of LEGOs.

The group call was already in complete disarray by the time Jake joined. Sunghoon was mid-rant about something, gesturing aggressively at his camera while Jay, half-listening, scrolled through his phone. Heeseung had his mic muted, but his shoulders shook with silent laughter, probably watching something stupid on another tab. Jungwon, ever the responsible one, was trying to get everyone’s attention, but Sunoo kept cutting him off, making dramatic expressions every time someone spoke.

“Can you guys just-” Jungwon started.

“Wait, wait, do that face again,” Sunoo interrupted, pointing at his screen, barely holding back laughter.

Jungwon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is why we never get anything done.”

Meanwhile, Ni-ki, who had been quiet the entire time, suddenly leaned in, squinting at his screen. “Jake, are you in bed? Bro, it’s not even that late.”

Jake scoffed, adjusting his laptop. “It’s-” He checked the time. “It’s eleven.”

“Exactly.”

“Finally,” Sunghoon scoffed, sipping from a can of soda. “The birthday boy graces us with his presence.”

“It’s not even my birthday yet,” Jake chuckled, adjusting the laptop on his lap.

“Yeah, well, none of us are free on the actual day,” Jay pointed out. “So this is what you get.”

“Be grateful we even remembered,” Heeseung joked.

“You didn’t,” Jungwon said flatly. “I reminded all of you.”

Jake chuckled, the warmth of familiarity settling into his chest. The conversation continued in its usual chaotic rhythm—teasing, overlapping chatter, and Sunoo dramatically reenacting something that had happened earlier that week. Then, amidst the noise, Jungwon shifted in his seat, glancing away from the screen as if distracted by something off-camera.

Jake barely noticed at first, too busy laughing at whatever ridiculous claim Ni-ki had just made. But then Jungwon disappeared from his frame entirely, leaving only the top of his head visible for a moment. The others barely registered it, still caught up in their conversation, until he reappeared, this time holding something in his hands.

An actual birthday cake.

The glow of the candles flickered softly, illuminating his face as he settled back in his seat. The sight of it made the conversation stutter for a second before Heeseung let out a surprised laugh. “No way. You actually got a cake?”

Jungwon grinned, a little sheepish but mostly pleased with himself. “Well, yeah. Someone had to.”

“Jungwon, I would marry you,” Jake gasped.

“I lit the candles,” Jungwon went on, ignoring them. “But then I realized that would be kinda pointless since you’re, y’know… not here.”

Jay nodded solemnly. “Yeah, the whole blowing-out-the-candles part kinda loses its charm when we’d have to just pretend you did it.”

“We could all blow on our screens at the same time,” Heeseung suggested.

“That’s disgusting,” Sunghoon said immediately.

The whole thing was so dumb, so completely stupid, and yet Jake felt a knot in his throat. They really didn’t have to do all this, but they did. Just to make him feel a little bit like they were together again.

They spent the next hour catching up- on music, on random TV shows, on things they’d seen online that reminded them of each other. The conversation never stayed in one place for too long, always shifting like waves, full of interruptions and tangents that made no sense.

At some point, when the laughter died down just enough, Jake cleared his throat. “So, uh… I wanted to tell you guys something.”

“Is he finally admitting he sucks at Mario Kart?” Heeseung cut in.

Jake rolled his eyes. “No.”

Surprisingly, the call had ceased to a silence and everyone stared at their screen, waiting for Jake to say something. Sunoo looked the most bewildered, surprised at how silent it had gone.

“So?” Jay coaxed.

“I sent my song to a few labels,” He finally blurted out.

Silence. A split-second beat before the entire call erupted.

“NO WAY-”

“DUDE!”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?”

“This is huge!”

“Any news yet?”

Jake let them go on for a bit, barely holding back a smile. “Nothing yet,” he admitted. “Didn’t wanna jinx it. But… I don't know. It feels good to finally put it out there.”

“Well, we’re proud of you,” Jungwon said firmly, and the others nodded along. “Like, really proud.”

Jake exhaled, some of his nerves settling. He knew they meant it. That’s why he’d wanted to tell them- despite his stupid superstitions, despite his own fears. After they all spent a few seconds clapping, Heeseung had moved on to talking about his brother’s wedding. He told them that he was the best man and that it would most probably take place a year later- the happy couple were busy figuring out their schedules and work that delaying it felt like the best idea.

“You’re all invited, by the way,” he announced. “Mark your calendars.”

“To an unknown date?” Sunghoon sputtered out laughing.

“Be grateful I even invited you,” Heeseung deadpanned.

“I’ll probably have a date for the wedding,” Jake said. “Is that okay?”

The call ceased to a silence once more as the group processed the information. This time, Niki was the most bewildered, raising his brows and side-eyeing his Hyung with confusion. Then, Heeseung let out a scoff.

“I’m dating someone-”

“It’s Y/N,” Jungwon deadpanned.

“How the fuck did you know.”

“Dude, it was so obvious. You talk about her all the time,” Jay rolled his eyes.

“Well,” Sunoo said, dragging out the word. “Looks like Jake’s the first one of us to get a girlfriend.”

“Not surprised,” Jay snorted. “He was always the freakiest one out of all of us.”

Jake choked. “What the hell does that even mean?!”

“I thought that was Heeseung Hyung,” Niki’s voice drowned out.

“C’mon, man,” Sunghoon smirked. “We’ve all seen you in action.”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m not even shocked it’s Y/N,” Sunghoon went on. “This was bound to happen.”

Niki hummed. “Honestly, I thought it was already happening, and you two were just waiting to say something,” and Jungwon followed his profuse nodding.

Jake groaned as the teasing continued, hands covering his face. But underneath the embarrassment, he felt lighter. Like everything was finally where it was supposed to be.

vii. Happy birthday?

One thing about Jake’s family- they never did celebrations halfway. With the kind of wealth they had, extravagant parties and lavish dinners were almost expected, a given for any occasion worth acknowledging. But this time was different. This time was special.

For the first time in nearly a decade, they were celebrating Jake’s birthday together, all of them in the same place, at the same table. If that wasn’t reason enough to book the most exclusive restaurant in town for the night, then what was?

The clinking of glasses, the gentle hum of background music, the soft glow of candlelight- it all felt like a moment frozen in time, one he’d look back on and remember as nothing but happiness. His mother sat beside him, refilling everyone’s glasses, a proud smile never leaving her face. His father, usually reserved, was surprisingly talkative, sharing stories from Jake’s childhood that had everyone laughing. Sam, always the troublemaker, kept trying to sneak extra bites of dessert before it was even served, earning a playful slap on the arm from their mother.

“We went to an astrologer when Jake was born and we told her to read his future,” Rob, a drunken mess, raised his wine in the air. “She told us that he would grow up to do great things- and he did!”

Rob desperately tried making him stop drinking.

“He always used to drool as a child,” his mom reminisced. “And always picked at his lips- that habit never left.”

“God, mom,” Jaked rolled his eyes.

Y/N sat across from Jake, her eyes catching the light just right, and every so often, when their gazes met, she’d smile at him in a way that made his heart trip over itself. She was wearing the dress he bought for him and the jewelry he picked out- he told her that this was his way of showing his love and appreciation and the pair also scheduled birthday sex where he’d eventually rip everything off of her.

The table was full of laughter, teasing, and clumsy attempts at making a toast. Someone- probably Sam- had convinced the waitstaff to bring out an over-the-top birthday cake, three tiers tall, decorated with sleek gold details. They all cheered as Jake cut the first slice, feeding a bite to his mother first, then his dad, then Y/N and Sam and then Mark and Evelyn.

While they all posed for a family photo, Jake’s phone vibrated. He didn’t think much of it at first, chalking it up to a random app notification or another birthday wish from a random contact. Everyone had moved on to use the karaoke and Jake had even forgotten about checking it. He sang two, maybe three songs before handing the mic over to Mark and Sam and he settled onto a chair beside Y/N, enjoying the show.

It wasn’t until Y/N went up to sing that Jake took his phone out. His intention was to record her, maybe use the video to black mail her in the future. But then he saw the notification and he swallowed, hard. His hands quivered and his head spun- he was sure he was either being carried in cloud-nine or being buried six feet under. Both were bad, at that moment, when he realised what was at stake.

Y/N. Their relationship.

Y/N stopped mid-song, letting the karaoke machine drawl its music as her attention landed on Jake. He looked scared and she grew concerned. “Jake?” Everyone’s attention turned to head, heads snapping in unison.

“What is it?” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, peeking past his head to find his email opened on the screen of his phone. “What is it?”

Jake swallowed, gripping his phone tighter as if grounding himself. His heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear the karaoke music in the background. “I, uh-” His voice wavered, and he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to just say it. “One of the companies I sent my song to… they liked it.”

Silence. A heavy, breathless kind of silence where the weight of his words sank in.

“They don’t just like it,” he continued, lifting his phone slightly as if to prove it was real. “They want me to come to New York. They’re offering me a job.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. Sam’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Around the room, expressions flickered between shock, excitement, and something unreadable.

“Holy shit.”

“No way.”

“Jake, that’s huge!”

His mother’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes already welling up. Sam clapped his back so hard he nearly dropped his phone. Y/N just stared at him, lips parted, and in the dim light of the private room, he swore he saw something shift in her expression.

“You never told us.”

It was the night before Jake was flying to New York. His bags were packed, tickets were booked and the family had already had a farewell dinner together. His mom cried and his father raised a toast for being blessed with two remarkable sons. Mark and Evelyn quipped about how he was already leaving, having barely been back. Y/N, however, had stayed quiet, looking at everyone through her lashes and past the rim of her wine glass. Occasionally, she would crack a smile but it was evident that it was feigned. No one bothered to ask her the matter, though, in fear of ruining the already sad night of Jake’s departure.

The night that Jake found out about his job offer, the night of his birthday a few months ago, he and Y/N came home to a huge fight. She was throwing pillows at him, almost ripping them to shreds for the feathers to come flying out. She then threw her heels at him, all out of pure anger as she cursed at him and asked why he hadn’t told her sooner, to give her a heads-up as to what to expect. Then, she broke down in tears, slumping into a ball in the corner of his room, hiding her face into her hands as sobs escaped her throat.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” She repeated her words over and over again and Jake comforted her, not knowing what else to do.

That night, he slept on the couch, mulling over all the rights and wrongs that he had committed in his life. However, he could never understand if leaving to pursue his dreams of k-pop was a right or wrong, virtue or sin. If he had never left and simply pursued his dream of engineering, maybe he and Y/N would have been planning their wedding right now. Maybe he would have been more familiar to his family.

After that fight, Y/N never brought it up again. She pretended like it never happened, spending the last of his days stuck beside him. She seemed normal, felt normal- so normal that it almost scared Jake. But he played into it, knowing he would regret it later.

When the dinner was over, Y/N was nowhere to be found- not in his room, not in Sam’s room and surely not with Layla, who was already sound asleep. So, he sauntered into the Y/L/N’s house and made his way towards her room. Her door was slightly ajar, but the room was empty. The faintest rustle of the curtains drew his attention to the open balcony doors, where a figure stood bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight. Y/N, arms resting on the railing, eyes lost in the distance.

Jake hesitated for a moment, taking in the way the night breeze lifted strands of her hair, how her shoulders rose and fell with a quiet exhale. Then, he stepped forward.

“Didn’t feel like staying?” He murmured, voice low as he leaned against the doorway.

She turned slightly, just enough for their eyes to meet. There was no smile, no teasing remark. “Needed some air.”

Jake nodded, stepping closer until he was beside her. “Mind if I join you?” She shook her head, and they stood in silence, the city stretching out before them, the weight of the night settling between them. “You’re quiet,” he pointed out.

She exhaled through her nose, a slow, deliberate breath. “Yeah.”

Something in her tone made his stomach twist.

Jake waited, hoping and praying that she would say something to fill the tension. But she wasn’t the type- she never was and never will be, now especially. So, Jake does.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like that,” he said, voice careful.

“I know,” she nodded.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Y/N-”

“That’s all you have to say?” Y/N shot him a blank stare. “That you’re sorry?”

“No, of course-”

“Jake, you’re leaving me,” she said. “All over again.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, knowing where this would lead. “You know it’s not like that, Y/N.”

“Sure. It’s never fucking like that,” she let out a bitter chuckle. “Then tell me, Jake, what is it like? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly the same as last time. You left. You moved on. And now, you’re doing it again.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair? That I let myself believe this time was different? That I actually thought you were going to stay?”

Jake stepped closer, instinctively reaching for her, but she took a step back. That hurt more than her words.

“I have to go,” he said quietly, almost pleading. “This is everything I’ve been working for-”

“Yeah, I fucking know that,” her voice raised. “Just let me be hurt.”

Her voice cracked, and suddenly, all the fight drained from her body. A shaky breath, a single tear sliding down her cheek, then another. She tried to blink them away, but her body betrayed her. Her fingers curled into trembling fists, and before she could stop herself, she buried her face in her hands, hair falling forward like a curtain to shield her from the world.

Jake felt something deep in his chest tighten, like a fist squeezing his heart until it ached. The sight of her breaking apart- because of him- was unbearable. Without thinking, he closed the space between them, pulling her into his arms. His hand cradled the back of her head, his other arm wrapping around her shoulders, holding her together as best as he could. Like she would slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold on tight enough. She mumbled a string of “I hate you”s into his chest, trying her best to break free until ultimately, she succumbed into his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick, uneven. He shut his eyes as he felt his own tears welling up. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N clung to him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if that would make him stay. She pressed her forehead against his chest, and when she spoke again, her voice was muffled against his body, but he heard every single word.

“You know,” she started, sniffling, “when you first left for training, I spent almost a month sleeping in your bedroom because I missed you so damn much. I missed you, just missed seeing you around the house every day, walking to the bus stop with you and your brother, going to the market with our moms-” Her breath hitched. “I missed you so much, I didn’t think it could hurt this bad.”

Jake’s throat closed up. He squeezed his eyes shut, his chin pressing against the top of her head as if he could will away the weight of everything she was saying.

Because he remembered too.

He remembered the way she used to run to his house every morning, dragging him and Sam out by the wrists so they wouldn’t miss the bus. He remembered sneaking extra snacks into her grocery basket when their moms weren’t looking. He remembered lying on the grass beside her on summer nights, Sam yelling at them to come back inside to shelter against mosquitoes.

He remembered the first time he left.

And now, he was doing it again.

"I remember," he admitted, his voice raw. "I remember all of it, Y/N. I didn't forget."

Y/N let out a broken breath, like she had been waiting for those words.

Jake swallowed hard and pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, lashes damp, lips pressed into a thin line as if she were trying to stop them from trembling. She looked at him like he was already gone.

“I hate it, I hate leaving you like this,” he continued. His thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping away a tear that had just fallen. "But you have to know- none of it was ever easy for me, either."

For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, the distant hum of the city beyond the balcony, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on them.

Then, he reached for her hands, prying them gently away from his shirt. He held them between his own, squeezing.

"But I don’t want to lose you over this," he said softly.

Y/N's brows furrowed, her fingers twitching in his grasp. "You already are."

"Don't say that," he murmured. "Please."

“This is how it’s like to love someone like you, isn’t it?” Y/N pulled away from him, keeping him at an arm’s length as she wiped her nose with her forearm. He watched her through her puffy eyes and nose, her messy hair that he loved so much, and streaks of salty tears on her cheeks that looked permanent. “Someone who never feels like they have enough- who’s never content.”

“You think I’m not content with you?” Jake’s voice was laced with disbelief, his brows knitting together as he took a hesitant step forward.

Y/N let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “Jake, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it now- like he was bracing himself for something he didn’t want to hear.

She exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair. “I mean that you’re always searching for something more. Something bigger. It’s who you are. And I love that about you, but it also means that I- ” she paused, her voice catching in her throat. “I’ll never be enough to make you stay.”

Jake’s stomach twisted. “Y/N- ”

“Don’t,” she whispered, cutting him off. “Just- don’t try to tell me that’s not true.”

Jake wanted to argue. Wanted to hold her and tell her that she was wrong, that she meant the world to him, that she represented everything good that he had going on in his life. That she was the one constant in his life, the person he always came back to, the one who knew him better than anyone else. That no matter where he went or what he chased after, she was always in the back of his mind, woven into every decision, every late-night doubt, every quiet moment when he let himself wonder what truly mattered. But deep down, wasn’t there truth to what she was saying?

“Come with me,” Jake breathed.

“What?”

“To New York. Come with me.”

She let out a breath, shaking her head before he even finished speaking. “Jake…”

He took her hands in his, gripping them like if he held tight enough, she wouldn’t slip away. “Why not? We’ll figure it out, we always do-”

She pulled her hands away. “Because I don’t want to,” she admitted, her voice thick with uncertainty. “I love my life here. My job, my family- everything. I like being the most loved person in the room at home, I like walking the same streets I grew up on. This is my dream, Jake. This,” she gestured vaguely, meaning everything- the life she had built, the people she had around her, the version of herself she had grown into.

Jake felt something crack inside of him. “So that’s it?” His voice was quiet now, the fight leaving him as quickly as it came. “You won’t even try?”

“You expect me to leave my perfect life?”

“You expect me to leave mine?”

“I never said that,” Y/N stood firm on her words. “I just asked you to let me hurt.”

That night, their bodies spoke in ways words never could. Desperation laced every touch, every kiss, as if they could etch each other into memory through skin alone. Jake’s hands traced the curves of her back, pressing her closer, like if he held her tight enough, he could somehow stay. Clothes were shed in silence, urgency melting into slow, lingering movements. He kissed every inch of her, memorizing the way she shivered under his touch, the way her breath hitched when he whispered her name against her lips. It wasn’t just love- it was grief, the kind that settled deep in the bones, knowing this was the last time they would be like this.

The drive to the airport was unbearably silent. The weight of what lay ahead pressed against them, thick in the air. Y/N sat in the passenger seat, her fingers curled into the fabric of her hoodie, staring out at the passing streets she knew by heart. Jake sat beside her, his hands curled into fists against his jeans, knuckles white. Every so often, he stole a glance at her, but she never turned to meet his gaze. She just kept staring out the window, watching the city she loved blur past, like if she memorized it enough now, she wouldn’t forget what it felt like with him here. Jake’s chest tightening with every mile that brought them closer to the departure gate. Neither of them spoke, because what was left to say?

viii. epilogue (the one with the happy ending)

Heeseung’s brother’s wedding was the kind that felt like it had been plucked straight from a dream. The venue was an elegant garden estate, sprawling and timeless, where nature and luxury blended seamlessly. Rows of white chairs lined a stone-paved aisle leading to a breathtaking floral arch, woven with ivory roses and soft greenery. As the sun dipped below the horizon, fairy lights draped across the trees flickered to life, casting everything in a golden glow. The atmosphere was nothing short of enchanting—warm, intimate, and brimming with quiet romance.

Inside the reception hall, deep forest green and champagne hues decorated the space, accented with gold detailing that shimmered under the glow of grand chandeliers. Long banquet tables were set with delicate floral arrangements, gold-rimmed plates, and flickering candle lit lanterns, making everything feel impossibly elegant. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air as a live band played soft jazz in the background, transitioning into upbeat melodies as the night carried on. The dance floor, bathed in the warm light of hanging lanterns, was alive with movement- couples twirling, old friends reuniting, and guests celebrating love in all its forms. It was the kind of night that people would remember, not just for its beauty but for the way it made everyone feel—- ike they were part of something special.

In the middle of it all sat Jake, his hand clasped with Y/N’s, refusing to let her go. Around the couple sat the rest of Enhypen, chattering about where the newlywed’s honeymoon would be. They were all older now, busier, lives stretched across different places and paths, but sitting around the same table, drinks in hand, it felt the same. Heeseung was glowing with pride, still riding the high of his brother’s big day. Sunghoon had already teased him for getting emotional during the vows, and Jay was deep in conversation with Jungwon about how weddings always had the best food.

“So,” Sunghoon started, leaning forward with a grin. “Are we going to talk about how Jake actually managed to be in a long-distance relationship?”

“Do you guys really have such low expectations from me?” Jake snorted, bringing a rice cake to his mouth.

“I can’t lie, I'm surprised, too,” Y/N chuckled.

Jake stared at her, expressionless and feigned disappointment. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend.”

“I love you, too.”

The pair would be lying if they said they weren’t surprised by themselves.

After Jake left, Y/N fell into a puddle of sadness that crashed into her like a wave, along with the tides of realization that her emotions would forever stay unrequited and unmatched. She would brood over her schedules and would drag herself around with a frown or heavy eyes. She no longer sat with enthusiasm while watching movies with her parents or playing with Layla. She no longer spoke with confidence during business meetings, mouthing her words like a programmed robot. And worst of all, she no longer liked online shopping with Diane.

It was painful watching the girl tut and sneer at things that would normally bring her joy- books, food, movies and even driving to the beach at night. Every night she would come home, she would mumble her greetings to anyone else in the house and go straight to bed. Sometimes she'd skip dinner, other times she'd skip breakfast and on days where her schedule was empty, she'd lay in bed all day, watching a show while not even bothering to shower.

It took two days for Sam to beat out a confession from Y/N, where he finally cried out a longing for Jake and their relationship- how everything so perfect suddenly was snatched out of her hand like a child with a stolen lollipop. She weeded and sobbed in Sam’s arms until her parents and his parents arrived in her room, confused at her disarray and begging for her to tell them what happened.

Sam finally explained it to them- how she and Jake had fallen in love, how they snuck around everyone for a few months dating and how him leaving for New York left Y/N shattered and empty. Upon hearing this, the parents had booked her a ticket to New York within a heartbeat. Before Y/N could even protest, yell at them for overreacting, tell them that she never wanted to see Jake’s face again- her bags were already packed.

Jake received an unexpected call from his brother while he was at dinner. Jay, who lived in Seattle, flew down to meet Jake for the weekend. They ate at a small restaurant that was famous for its brunch buffets. It was exactly when Jake was pouring syrup onto his pancakes that his phone rang.

“Y/N’s coming to New York,” Sam said. “Go get her.”

When Jay drove Jake to the airport, Jake finally understood why they said airports were both the place of the greatest happiness and greatest tragedy. For the most part in the past few years, Jake’s visits to the airport were filled with tragedy- disbanding from Enhypen, leaving Y/N and landing in New York for a job that costed him his favourite person. Now, he was visiting to experience what he hoped would be a miracle- that Sam’s call wasn’t just a prank and that he would see the woman of his dreams standing there, waiting for him.

Sure enough, when he arrived, he saw Y/N standing at a far corner, a look of daze and confusion as she gripped her suitcase. She looked around with glassy eyes, holding back tears in an unfamiliar environment. Then, she spotted Jake from afar as he waved at her, jumping at the sight of her. He wore his signature smile, the one that filled his face and brought out his teeth. Y/N let out a wet chuckle.

The pair ran towards each other and collided in the middle in an embrace. Jake, up until that moment, had never kissed her with that much desperation and aching.

After that, flying back and forth to visit each other had become a norm.

At Heeseung’s brother’s wedding, Sunoo asked the couple to recount their love story and he listened with heart eyes. Sunoo loved listening to people’s love stories- he had asked Heeseung to tell him about his brother’s a plethora of times by now.

“I’m so glad she’s stuck with me,” Jake grinned at her, squeezing her hand as she looked back at him.

Jungwon sighed dramatically. “Love is real, I guess.”

Heeseung groaned. “Please, not at my brother’s wedding.”

Laughter rang through the table, but even as the conversation moved on, Jake stared at Y/N, silently grateful for every moment that had led them here.

[angelfishe]

|| 🂱🂱 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄. 🂱🂱 ||

<< yandere VIP Zhongli x Player!reader >>

After your mother suddenly has gotten her self into a large debt that seems it is never gonna end, someone recruited you to participate in a game to clean off that debt, but turns out it was a life and death situation as well meeting some familiar faces.

A one shot of my previous post

Warning : includes some dub-con intimacy, spoilers for the squid game series, blood, violence, as well mentions of intimacy

<< Viewers discretion is advised>>

Your mother has gotten herself into a large amount of debt for no apparent reason, she got Carried away in an illegal casino as well taking a loan from an illegal casino.

So you took odd jobs to pay off the debt to help her, but it never seems to end for you guys suffering. Everyday is tiring getting up at 4 am and going home at 11 pm, it was exhausting.

You were tired one day after a night shift, and was waiting at the train station to go home until a man in a business suit approached you, saying why don't you guys play a game for some money. You were desperate for cash so you accepted it.

After that, you receive some slaps but you eventually win. You get your cash and as well a business card about playing a game and clearing your debt.

You decided to take your chances and go with a friend to this so-called game. You and her wait for the car that was taken to you guys towards the game and when it arrives you guys suddenly fall asleep. You guys wake up in a green jump suit with different numbers on it.

After the game rules were laid out by the guards and the first game was "red light, green light", you didn't think much of it and followed the game as usual. Until one person moves during a red light and was shot, and soon all hell broke loss

People ran towards the exit and ended up getting shot left and right, you and your friend didn't know what to do and was scared to move and that's how you guys survive the first game.

During the dalgona shape game, unfortunately for you, you receive a star shape one. You were stressing about it until a guard next to you decided to drop a lighter right next to you and you unknowingly grab to use it.

During the third game it was a miracle that your team managed to win, during the night when there were lights out people left and right started to eliminate each other.

You were safe due to you hiding under the bed. Unfortunately during the 4th game, the marble game. Your friend decided to back stab you and cause you to lose the game.

She was allowed to leave and you were told to stay behind, you thought they were going to shoot you but they drag you into somewhere in the facility.

You were screaming and begging them to let you go, and you were pushed into a luxurious room inside a bed night stand and a man wearing an expensive brown suit and was wearing a deer mask facing the other way so his back was facing you.

"I'm so glad I've got to meet you again my love" he's voice sounds familiar, "it's a shame you don't recognize me have you forgotten my voice after those years being apart because the only thing that has kept me sane was your voice".

The man took off revealing it was your ex husband zhongli, you guys divorce about three years ago how possessive he was with you, unwilling for you to let you go anywhere but home saying it was dangerous.

He was a famous consultant when you guys were married and you both were living comfortably, until your divorce and you heard that he joined the army for 2 years and after leaving he managed to climb himself into the world of the elite reaching fortunes of those Unimaginable.

He seems way more taller and muscular since the last time you saw him maybe he's been working out. As well growing his hair to the point of reaching his back side.

He approach you and envelopes you into a large bear hug, saying how much he misses you and loves you. While you're there just shock contemplating why he is here in this game as well knowing where you were.

And the entire time he was also saying how he was right and the world is a dangerous place as well saying you would have been with him and not be in this game. He was about to give you a kiss until you pushed him to create some distance from him.

You ask him why he was here, and he answered that his friend "childe" tip him off about an entertainment experience that was once in a lifetime to enjoy. And that's how he became a vip to the squid game, he originally wasn't fond of these games but he was glad he came because he saw you on the list of participants. And now he's here to save you and bring you back home

He said he could clear the debt, saying that the debt of 100 million mora wouldn't make a dent in his fortune it was just a small amount as well about the dealings of the illegal casino saying his friends own it and will pay off the debt as long as he gets to have you back.

Without a choice you decided to take him back, and he enveloped you to his embrace as well kissing your lips. He walks you both towards the bed and pins you down.

He grabs the deer mask that was put on the night stand and puts it on your face and then he undresses you from the jump suit "let's get you out of these dirty clothes".

He's more muscular, more broader and much more stronger as well having some experience in the bedroom after you guys divorce, I mean he would usually imagine the ones who were underneath him was you.

As well as having more stamina since the military training, leaving you breathless and thoughtless after the deed was done. After 3 years apart he must have been pent up a lot. Admiring and memorising your figure as well singing praises about your screams of pleasure and how he misses it.

After some time you receive some high end clothing from the guards as well having your own golden mask. You and him walk arm on arm in link together as if the universe doesn't want to separate you again and you guys take a seat watching the last player fight for the Fortune.

[c0s-lettuce]

Hii if it’s okay, can I please request a Sergei x fem!reader where she was walking home and was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something bad guys were doing and was in danger, but she was saved by Sergei (the bad guys were on his list so he happened to show up). She meets Sergei again when the same bad guys come after her again because she had seen too much, and he saves her again. Because it seems that the bad guys will not stop going after her because of what she saw, Sergei brings her to his cabin to protect her until he has taken out all of the bad guys? He’s super protective of her and she’s really scared about everything that’s going on and feels safe with him, and after a while of staying with him, they both start to fall in love and she doesn’t want to leave even after everything is safe 🥹

guardian angel - sergei kravinoff x reader

word count: 3317

warnings: fem!reader, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood

a/n: thank you for the request! sorry this took a while, i hope i did it justice 😭 happy holidays everyone!

A shortcut. That's all it was supposed to be - a quick detour down an alley. You've taken it a few times before, usually to escape the rain like tonight. It's a light sprinkle. One that might have been pleasant if it wasn't for the dark and your long day at work. Your walks home were, fortunately, mostly uneventful.

But not tonight. You'd blame it on bad luck. Or fate, if such a thing exists.

Unfriendly-sounding voices should have been your first clue to something being amiss. But curiosity drives you forward. Peering through the darkness, you see two figures surrounding a third person kneeling on the ground.

It seems like a confrontation of sorts, a heavily one-sided confrontation. They don't notice you, so you deem this a good moment to leave. You back away as quietly as possible. But as you approach the street, a black car pulls up, blocking the entrance.

The next few moments pass in a blur. There's a scream. A horrific squelching noise. You look back to see the third person now slumped on the ground. A silver glint in the hand of one of the other men. Two more men exit the car. There's shouting from one side, then both. You realise you've been noticed. You panic. Then, chaos.

You're unsure if you fell or were pushed, but you end up on the ground. You scramble away, and your back hits the wall of the alleyway. Bodies begin to go flying around you. Any attention that was paid to you is diverted. One man is in the middle of it all. He seems to know his way around killing, like a hunter.

Your front-row show is interrupted when you're dragged to your feet. A cold barrel is pressed against your temple. You freeze as you're held hostage. The hunter pauses and turns to you. Four bodies now lay dead, all killed in different ways. The man holding you is the only one left.

"Enough. Stop now, or the girl dies," the voice behind you speaks.

You notice that despite the man's intimidation, fear laces his tone. It's a mutual feeling as you stand silent and wide-eyed, afraid to move. The hunter raises his hands as if surrendering. You're not sure what to make of it.

But you don't get given the time to decide. In the blink of an eye, the hunter pulls out a knife, flicks it out and throws it towards your head. For a split second, you think it's all over. You squeeze your eyes shut. Either by bullet or blade, this is the end for you.

But then, the man's grip around you loosens, followed promptly by a dull thump. You turn around to see what happened. The man lies on the ground, a knife protruding from him square in the eye. Blood begins to pull around his head.

You bring your hands to your mouth and back away from the body. The sight is unlike anything you've seen. You're stuck between screaming, throwing up or passing out, but a voice from behind interrupts you.

"Are you hurt?" it asks, gruff and breathless.

You flinch at the sound. You turn back to look at the owner of the voice. The hunter stands before you, covered in the odd splatter of blood, hair and clothes mussed. You stare for a moment, bewildered.

Once you find your bearings, you reply, "Uh, no… no, I'm alright."

He nods, walking past you to retrieve his knife. The sound of the blade leaving the man's head makes you cringe.

"Sorry," he says, cleaning the knife on the man's clothes, "I would've warned you before I threw it, but that might have defeated the purpose."

You don't respond. Was that… a joke? What are you supposed to say to that?

In your silence, the hunter looks at you again. "You live around here?"

Again, it takes you a moment to answer. "Yeah, just a few blocks away."

"You should get home," he tells you, standing up. "Forget you saw anything."

You nod. That sounds like a good idea. A great idea, even. You force yourself to move, deciding on the regular route home instead of continuing this shortcut.

The hunter watches you pass but speaks up again before you get too far. "I'm sorry you had to see all that."

You pause, taking in his… somewhat considerate words. You glance back at him and mutter, "Thank you."

Once again, he nods, sighing as he looks down at the bodies. You turn away again and continue your way home. The journey passes in a haze, and you immediately go to bed once you arrive.

As days pass, that night feels like a fever dream. Details don't come to you, with everything being a messy blur in your head. It was probably a good thing. However, the only part that remains clear is the elusive hunter.

A tall, muscular frame. Wavy, brown hair. Bright, blue eyes.

You clear your head of these thoughts as you stand and pack up your things. You're the last person left in your work building today, having stayed late to finish some extra work.

Just as you're about to head downstairs, you hear a loud crash. It's followed by more sounds, a mix of grunts, thumps and things breaking. You look around but can't see anything from where you are.

You grow anxious and search your desk for a weapon. You settle on a large paperweight, gripping it firmly and sneaking out. You bypass the elevators and go to the emergency staircase, carefully opening the door and ensuring it's empty inside before slowly heading down.

The sounds have stopped once you reach the bottom. You poke your head out, giving an obscured view of the ground floor. As expected, it's a mess of broken glass and wood. Crimson paints the floor, blood coming from three bodies. There's one man left standing. You recognise him immediately. The hunter.

You let your guard down, lowering the paperweight in your hands. You step out and look around again, getting a better look at the damage. You feel bad for whoever has to pay for all this. You turn to the hunter. He's already looking at you.

"It's you," you say.

"It's me," he replies. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, completely fine. You?" you ask.

"I'm good," he says, looking around at the mess. "We should stop meeting like this."

You let out a small huff. "You're telling me. Who are these people?"

"They're part of a large criminal organisation. Their influence runs deep. They have people all over the continent."

"Criminal organisation…? Why are they here?"

"You saw them kill someone. You're a liability."

"They were here for me? But didn't you kill everyone who saw me?"

"They have eyes and ears everywhere. Must've found out some other way."

The thought unsettles you, and you sincerely hope you won't regularly be pursued by criminals. Suddenly, you miss the comfort of your home.

Then, the hunter speaks up. "I'm Sergei, by the way."

You're slightly caught off guard. But you tell him your name, and he repeats it with a nod.

"You should get going," he says. "The police will be here soon. I'll handle things here."

"Are you sure? This is my workplace."

"I'm sure. Go," he insists.

You acquiesce, collecting your things again. Before you leave, you and Sergei exchange contact details. He tells you to call him if anything happens. Once again, you find yourself walking away from the hunter and a pile of dead bodies he saved you from. But at least now you know his name.

You've been home for the past few days since the building became a crime scene. You gave the police a vague description of what happened, and they haven't bothered you since.

You think about the hunter, who you now know to be Sergei Kravinoff. A Google search and some light stalking didn't reveal much about the man. And with no work to do, you continue to lie around at home.

But one morning, you wake up to a phone call. It's Sergei.

"Hello?" you answer.

"Where are you right now?" he asks immediately.

"At home. Why?" you say.

"Hard to explain, but you're in danger. I'm going to send you a location. I need you to go there. I'll have someone meet you."

He hangs up before you can get another word in. Seconds later, he sends the location for a terminal at the airport. Despite the abruptness and absurdity, his words worry you, so you quickly pack a small bag and head to the airport.

A dark-haired woman greets you at the terminal. You board the small aircraft landed there as she takes the pilot seat. She answers a few of the many questions you have. Sergei has been in different parts of Europe to eliminate this criminal organisation. It seems you have not left the group's radar because they had your address. Afraid they're planning on tying up loose ends, Sergei asks you to go to his safe house in Russia.

Great, you think. This is a totally regular occurrence.

It's a long flight. After hours, you finally arrive, landing on a secluded airstrip surrounded by bush and mountains. Sergei waits for you outside, approaching the aircraft as the door opens.

"Thanks for trusting me," he speaks over the noise of the aircraft.

"Well, you've given me enough reason to," you tell him.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this," he says.

"Don't be," you reply.

He gives you a grateful nod as he gestures with his head. "Follow me."

He leads you away from the runway. The landscape turns forest-like as you walk along a trail. You look around at the surprisingly picturesque view despite the strange circumstances you're in.

"So, what is this place?" you ask.

"I live here most of the time," Sergei explains. "This property used to belong to my mother's family. It's pretty much all I have left of her now."

"Right," you reply. "And do you make a habit of bringing many women out here in the middle of nowhere?"

He shrugs. "Just the ones whose lives are threatened by criminals."

"…Is that a lot?" you ask.

Sergei smirks, leaving your question unanswered as he picks up the pace. "Come on, it's just ahead."

You watch him go ahead of you, letting out a huff at his non-answer as you try to catch up. After a small trek, Sergei leads you to his cabin. It's a pleasant spot, a geometric glass dome surrounded by shrubbery and nature. There's also a scenic body of water nearby. This place would do great on Airbnb, you think to yourself.

You spend your first evening getting settled in. Sergei tells you he's heading to Romania, so you'll have the cabin all to yourself. He makes sure you have everything you need before leaving. He also advises you not to wander far while he's gone, telling you there are leopards, tigers and bears in the area. Well, there goes your Airbnb pitch.

Later that night, you climb to the loft and get into bed. A stranger's bed. A stranger who has saved your life multiple times, but a stranger nonetheless. It's almost dead silent at night, nothing like back home. The rustle of leaves in the wind and the quiet chirping of insects act as your lullaby.

The glass gives you a perfect view of the starry sky as you lie back. With no light pollution, the sight is nothing to scoff at. And after everything that has happened in the last few days, it doesn't take much longer for you to find respite in sleep.

Sergei calls to check in with you from Transylvania on the second day, asking how you're doing and updating you on the situation. He tells you he's on the home stretch, and it'll all be over once the last few people are weeded out. He stays on the call for just a moment longer to tell you a joke about vampires.

Once he hangs up, it doesn't take long for you to become incredibly bored. You do what you can to entertain yourself. You take pictures of the scenery, snack on whatever is available, take naps, and discreetly poke around through Sergei's belongings.

By day three, there was nothing left to snoop. You've looked at everything, from the fridge to the bathroom cabinet. And more absurdly, from the alchemy station to the weapons collection. Sergei doesn't keep many things around, so there wasn't much you could learn from your nosiness.

You wake to a text on the fourth morning. Sergei tells you the job is finished. He's already on his way to the cabin. You let out a breath at the message. It's done. You're safe.

You look around at the space you've called home for the past few days. A strange feeling claws at the back of your mind. A sense of disappointment. At what, you can't yet place. So, to distract yourself, you spend the day tidying. Closer to the evening, you make dinner to the best of your ability with what's available.

Sergei returns and is greeted with the delicious aroma of your food. The smell is foreign to his cabin, foreign to him. You welcome him back, doing a quick once over. He's weary and battered but otherwise seems to be in good shape. And he's incredibly grateful for the food. It's almost amusing watching him eat, like a cat with a bowl of wet food.

After dinner, he's too tired to do anything or talk about what happens next, so you call it a night. You feel bad making him sleep on the couch. You tell him you don't mind him taking the bed. He agrees as long as you stay as well. Neither one of you bother to argue after that.

He passes out quite quickly, sleeping on his stomach with his head facing away from you. You lie on your side next to him, staring at the back of his head. Spending days doing nothing has made it so you're not all that tired. So, you lie in silence, a million thoughts running through your head.

Now that the situation is handled, Sergei will probably send you packing in the morning. That should be a good thing. You can get back to your home, your friends, your job. No criminals after your head, no fearing for your life. So, why is part of you reluctant to go?

You're pulled from your thoughts when Sergei stirs, yawning as he turns onto his back. He settles back down, and you think he's fallen asleep again until he turns his head towards you.

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, you're unsure what to do. You think about pretending you usually sleep with your eyes open to make up for the staring.

But all that proves unnecessary when he smiles and asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply. "Just not that tired."

Sergei nods, also turning on his side to face you. "I'm sorry you got caught up in all this."

"No, don't be," you say. "None of it was your fault."

"Still, I know it wasn't ideal, having to deal with something like this. And having to deal with me," he says.

"Dying wouldn't have been ideal," you tell him. "And I've been hiding out here the whole time, doing nothing. If anything, you're like my guardian angel."

He laughs, "That's one way to put it."

You smile back, and the two of you fall into a moment of silence.

"Thanks for looking after the place, by the way," he says.

"What? You mean leeching off of you for four days?" you reply.

He lets out an amused scoff. "I mean for cleaning up and making dinner. Especially the dinner part."

You nod. "It's the least I could do."

"I don't think I've had a proper home-cooked meal in years," he says. "The last time must have been when I still lived with my mother."

You pause for a moment, taking in the information. "No other cooks in the family?"

"No, my father never cooked," he replies. "He would make some poor, overworked chef do it."

You hum in response. "So, you've got low standards? That's a good thing for me then."

Sergei chuckles, appreciating your comment. The two of you stay awake for a while longer. Sergei tells you more about his childhood, his family, the accident that changed him, and his life after he left to be on his own. You also tell him about your past, which paled in comparison to his, but he seemed to appreciate it regardless.

His hand wanders under the sheets as the two of you talk, coming to rest on your waist. His thumb idly strokes your side. He listens to you intently and laughs at any funny parts you share. As his touch grows bolder, he pulls you closer, moving his arm to wrap around you.

You happily accept his embrace. Soon, the warmth of being in his arms and the comforting sound of his voice lull you to sleep. Sergei watches as you drift off. Out like a light. Adorable.

His mind thinks back to the first night you met. He remembers how scared you were, how you looked at him when your life hung in the balance. He felt sorry for you, a poor woman caught up in a mess that wasn't hers.

Sergei doesn't know why you trusted him so quickly, but he's glad you did. He's glad that you're here now with him. He's glad for it all. He realises then how nice it is to have someone to come home to. Someone who cares. Someone he can talk to other than his pilot or his brother.

He wonders what you think. He hopes you feel something similar. You must, right? Though there's a very good chance you think he's a lunatic, and you've just been humouring him. But he tells himself not to overthink, closing his eyes and holding you a little tighter as he waits for sleep.

When you wake in the morning, Sergei is already up, preparing a simple breakfast for the two of you. You eat together, engaging in light conversation. Despite your unspoken reluctance to leave, you know you must return to your life sooner or later.

He helps you pack up after breakfast, and you head to the airstrip. Sergei's pilot picks you both up, and you sleep most of the way back on the aircraft. After a smooth ride, you finally make it back home.

Sergei goes with you all the way back to your place. You open the front door and take a look around. Everything is how you left it, thankfully. Getting back to see your home trashed would have really soured your mood. You step in, place your bag down and let out a sigh. You're ready to continue sleeping, but your stomach rumbling redirects your priority.

Sergei leans against the door frame, watching you. He must have heard the evidence of your hunger because he chuckles. You turn to send him a glare, but he speaks up first.

"If you're up for it, I know a place. Good food, great music," Sergei says.

"Really? I thought you'd be happy to finally get rid of me," you reply.

Sergei snorts, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. I haven't actually gotten to spend that much time with you."

You're tempted, very tempted. But you pretend not to be. "As long as it's not in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country."

He laughs. "It's not. It's a normal restaurant. I promise."

You let out a sigh, feigning exasperation. "Alright, I trust you."

Sergei grins, pushing himself off the door frame. "Great, let's go."

➸

[phighter-kisser]

YANDERE GRIEFER AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!

anon i love you /p

you didnt specify what you wanted so,, i sort of bullshitted my way through this mb

i tried to make it yandere, but i think i ended up being more like 'sadistic griefer' than anything else. i do want to try this again sometime though!! it was surprisingly fun to think about.

player/reader/you is not very nice in this me thinks

throughout all your days travelling; fighting your way through mutliple enemies to defeating a half-frozen king only for him to turn into literal snow and bone, you never thought this would happen.

so much for trying to find and save builderman.

it started off fine enough, but things only seemed to have downgraded when you hit bigfoot by accident with your jeep.

the mayor was kidnapped by his own son and his pet monkey (seriously, who the hell names their kid 'brad'? no wonder this guy turned to evil.) - it seemed.. fine, nothing you couldn't handle.

your wooden sword was replaced with an iron one (even if you had to go through a pissed off bigfoot to get it.) you could defeat enemies more easily now. it felt like some sort of upgrade in a video game, if that made any sense. you doubt it didn't.

but then, brad.. or, fuck.. wait, what did he call himself? griefer? thats a dumb name also. but moving on.

griefer, especially when you first met him, was incredibly pissed off just by you being here, trying to 'save' his father. talking about these 'voices' of his. they wanted him to kill you.

huh, that sounds rather familiar.

not the first time someone wanted you dead, or-- at least, heavily injured.

then came the 'final' battle; right as you struck your sword, knocking him down, pointing your weapon at him-- he laughed, loudly, slowly getting up on weak legs despite your threats of harming him more.

he talked about forgetting this 'plan of his', raising the venomshank once more, only to stab himself in the leg while shouting.

"4LL 1 W4NT 1S Y0U"

fuck him, fuck this, you weren't even getting paid for this. you would've bolted straight out his disastrous bedroom if not for being stuck in place by the sight of him screaming curses, plantlife taking most of his body over starting from the leg.

colorful flowers blooming across the vines, a stark contrast to his personality.

he became more of a monster than he already was.

but, well, thats how you ended up here, lost in the middle of a jungle, running away from your current 'problem'.

when you first took off, he only cackled, spouting something about 'mouses and their fears.'

asshole. comparing you to a mouse.

just as you saw an opening, an exit, freedom-- a FUCKING VINE DRAGGED UP FROM THE GROUND AND GRABBED YOUR LEG.

welp, guess you're gonna die today.

dragging your (now rather limp) body back to him, clasping his hands together, a smirk on his lips, exposing teeth that seemed much sharper than before.

"T1MES UP M0US3."

his voice was like nails on a chalkboard. not a pleasant thing to listen to. especially now with you handing upside down by the leg,.

"why.. do you call me that?" your words only made him laugh more, his visible eye crinkling in delight. you wanted to punch him. hard.

"M0US3?"

"yeah, that. why mouse of all things?"

he paused for a moment, grinning wider, slowly walking towards you like a predator sizing up prey. (gee, hurry up grandpa, we don't have all day here.)

he reached forward and tapped your cheek, a satisfied noise leaving him.

"D3L1C4T3.. PL14NT. E4G3R T0 R0LL 0V3R 4ND D13. L1K3 4 PUPPET."

he frowned when you didn't react, brushing his (now much sharper) nails against the skin of your cheek, looking for any kind of reaction. any fear. any worry. any anger. but he saw none. yet.

with a small huff, he sharply dragged his claws against your cheek, making you writhe in pain, eyes widening when you felt the first droplets of blood on your skin.

"you fuckin' sicko!"

you shouted, reaching out to try and grab him, only for him to step back, amused, a sadistic glee in his eye.

"D0N'T F0RG3T WH0'S 1N C0NTR0L H3R3. 1 C4N K1LL Y0U 4NYT1M3 1 W4NT."

your lips curled back into a mild snarl. you'd much prefer him that over this.

"W3'R3 G0NNA H4V3 SUCH FUN T0G3TH3R."

[cha0s-junkie]

platonic yandere! mafia mom x reader

general warning for murder and blood

--

You didn't know why you were sitting in on the meeting. You feel like a little kid interrupting adult business, sitting on the couch watching as Verena barely engaged the belligerent man in the one-sided argument.

She'd cast you small glances, winking at you when you look at her. Laughing softly when you look away, clutching the stuffed bear to your chest.

"Are you even fucking listening?" He says, particularly loudly. Verena sighed, finally looking at the man in front of her. "No. Because this isn't something I care about, your little gang thought they could fuck around in my territory. I'm telling you to get out, you should be glad I'm even entertaining you with a meeting, boy."

His eye twitches. He laughs and shakes his head. "You clearly don't understand that this? us? it could be something big. We can take over everything, make it so that no one could try us."

She covers her mouth as a small snicker escapes her. "Us? There is no us," She leans forward, flattening her hands on her table as she glares at him. "You're nothing. You're trying to play around in business that I know you can't handle, get out."

She points to the door that was already being held open by one of her men. He looks at the door and back at her, scoffing at the situation. She just brushed him off like he was nothing, not even paying attention to his offer. Just, you.

"I won't ask again." Her voice now eerily calm as she leans back in her plush seat. He grumbles under his breath before finally exiting the room, not before giving you a withering glare.

You stare back, shifting back in the sofa. His stare doesn't leave yours until he exits the room, the door closing behind him.

Verena lets out a sigh and she looks back at you, a soft but happy expression taking over. "C'mere." She calls for you, you turn to look at her and she's beckoning you over.

"Was it a little boring?" She had moved you into her lap again, for some reason she likes it when she can be as close to you as possible. At the cost of your own personal comfort, of course. You shrugged wordlessly, it was kind of entertaining honestly.

"Well it was sooo boring for me, I'd rather play with my little sweetheart." She tickles you slightly, eliciting a laugh out of you. "C'mon, let's go play before my other meetings."

--

Bumps in the night in Verena's home wasn't odd. But hearing it in your room wasn't normal. Definitely not. You were wide awake, laying on your back staring at the ceiling trying to convince yourself that it was just a bird that hit your window and not someone breaking in.

A shadow of a person was casted in your room. Not a person. A bird, a really big fucking bird.

A click of a gun and you feel cool metal pressed to the side of your head, you stifled a scream as you felt someone lean down near your face. "Make a peep and your brains are decorating your silk sheets, get up."

Fear constricts your heart as you slowly got up, a gloved hand grabs your arm and tugs you out of bed almost making you fall down. You didn't have to look at his face to know it was the same man who Verena was arguing with before.

Finally after a few minutes of your captor struggling to navigate the house, you're dragged out to where his car was. He pushes you against the car and uses the handle of the gun against the back of your head, knocking you out.

You wake up to the man tightening the ropes that tie you down to a wooden chair, your head hurts. It hurts so much.

"Awake?" Your chin is grabbed roughly and your forced to look into the eyes of your captor. He grins, revealing a set of crooked teeth. "Don't worry, if Verena loves you so much that she can ignore me in a important fucking meeting to wink at you, she'll come save you."

He pushes your face back down and you groan slightly in pain at the sudden movement. You don't doubt that Verena is probably fuming right now.

"That bitch will learn to respect me, right?" He bites his thumb as he paces around the room, shit. He looks at you hunched over in pain, blood running down the back of your neck and dampening your pajamas coloring them a dark red.

Shit. He didn't think this through. only a few of his men were here, this was an impulse decision, kidnapping you. Verena wasn't one to be messed with, especially if you planned on taking one of her own. He clearly didn't know how much you meant to her because he would've done good for himself if he had taken anyone else.

Anyone else.

It's fine, he ran a hand through his greasy hair, it's fine. He takes his phone from his pocket and calls Verena again.

"Didn't think you'd have the balls to call me again after that shitshow, Mateo."

"I'd choose your words wisely, Verena." She laughs at this pathetic attempt at intimidation, clearly the phone was giving him some false sense of security. "Oh? Where did this new burst of confidence come from?"

He walks up to you with Verena still on the phone and grips your hair, tugging right where he had knocked you out. So, a particularly sore spot for you eliciting a pained whimper from your still drowsy self.

"Hear that?" He smirks to himself as he hears silence from the supposed terrifying mafia head. "I have your little pet with me, you want 'em back? 3 million, cash. Come alone, let's see how tough you really are without your men with you."

He tightens his grip on you and now you yelp out in pain, Verena makes a small noise of anger in response and Mateo laughs. "So you do have a weak spot, good to know."

"Can they hear me?" Her tone is stable, as if none of this is affecting her. Verena grips the papers on her table as she tries to control her boiling rage.

"Mama...?" Her heart tightens as you call out to her in such a small and scared voice. Her baby was hurt under her care, she failed you. "It's alright, sweetheart I'm coming, okay? I'm getting you out of there."

"Please..." You beg softly. Words were becoming harder for you to use, all you could think of was the throbbing pain at the back of your head. "Alright enough of that, I'm giving you an hour or they die. See you soon, Angel of death."

Verena holds her composure until Mateo ends the call. With shaking hands, she throws the phone to the other side of the room watching in anger as it shatters on impact. You were in pain, so much so that you finally called her what she had been begging you to call her. Mama.

"Get me their location."

"Immediately, ma'am." Her right-hand man bows slightly before exiting the room. His fate was sealed the moment he even thought of taking you away from her, he was a dead man walking.

--

"What?- Wait, stop fucking yelling. What do you mean they're dead? It's one woman, are you- shit. Shit, shit!"

The line goes dead. Another one of his men are dead at the hands of one woman. But he should've known, trying to mess with death herself would have never ended well for him. Now he was stuck alone with the one person that she had murdered so many men for.

You.

He looked at you and makes the smart decision to further use you as his shield against her rage. He walks behind you and holds the gun to your head. "Don't move." He hisses to you, as if you could move with the pounding headache. The blood loss was getting worse.

Mateo flinches as the door is kicked in, an enraged Verena fills the doorway. She had been dragging one of his men by the neck, he was still alive, still groaning in pain.

Oh, he fucked up. This was more than he could handle, he watches in fear as she throws the man down, letting him writhe in pain in the doorway. The blood that covered her made Verena look more like an animal than human.

"D-Don't come any closer or they get a fucking bullet in their head!" He shoves the gun into the side of your head to make his point. She stops midway, staring at the man.

"...Do you want to do that? Mateo? Threatening my kid, my kid? What do you think will happen if you kill them. I let you go alive? I accept you by my side?" She laughs making the man jump. "Try anything and I'll torture you until you beg for death. Make you regret even looking at my kid in the first place."

It was a promise and everyone in the room knew it.

Mateo finally drops the gun, he raises his hands in surrender as he backs away from you. Darting out of the room almost tripping on the dead body of the man as he leaves. Verena immediately drops in front of you, cupping her hands around your face.

It was worse than she thought. There was so much blood all over you that all she could do was hold you as she cried. You were hurt. Her precious kid was hurt.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry baby," She weeps, holding you in her arms. "It's all my fault, I should've never let you out of my sight."

"It's okay," You mumble tiredly, enjoying a gentle and warm hold after hours of sitting in a cold dark basement. "You're here now, right?"

She nods, sniffling. "I'm here, mama's here now."

[slasher-fxcker]

I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort fics, can I get Bo and Thomas being held hostage by a victim please? God I love the way you write Bo ^.^

A/N: Yesssss, I too love this! Hope you enjoy!!

Bo & Thomas having their S/O taken hostage by a victim.

Warnings: Guns, Violence, Swearing. 18+ blog MDNI.

Bo Sinclair

If you asked, Bo would say he isn’t afraid of anything. He always saw himself as fearless, he had seen so much in his life that he didn’t think anything could shake him.

That was until he heard your scream, one of the victims had gotten away from them and they had been searching, shotgun in hand, for at least an hour. When he heard your scream it killed him, you were his life now. Maybe he hadn’t quite realised it but in that moment the thought of you being hurt by the victim, or worse, pained him in a way he’d never felt before.

He raced to the house as fast as he could, he had to grab the wall as he skidded through the door and up the stairs to your room.

His whole body shook in fear as he noticed the handle on your door had been broken and that you were nowhere to be seen. “Fuck!” he yelled running back down the stairs to Vincent, “He took her, that bastards gonna get what’s coming to him,” he sent Vincent back out to look for you while he went to the kitchen to get his keys but what he saw made him still instantly.

Bo called your name quietly as the man pressed the knife closer to your throat making you flinch. “Put the gun down or I’ll do it, I’ll slit her throat.” Bo felt the familiar rage boiling up inside him at this point, how dare he talk about you like that, how dare he threaten to hurt you.

Bo surprisingly kept his cool, raising both hands and placing the shot gun on the table between you before taking a step back. “There, now let her go. Take my truck just let her go.” You had never seen Bo like this before, the pleading in his eyes as they flickered between you and the man. The man started moving forward towards the door still holding you close to him, Bo didn’t take his eyes off of him as he moved towards the exit. Bo was going to kill him, you knew that, he was going to rip him apart for even threatening you. As the man got to the door he looked at the door and then you, “Hey! I said let her go.” Bo seemed to spook the man who pushed you towards him and made a run for it. Vincent must have heard the ruckus and caught the man just as he reached the front door.

Bo wrapped his arms around you holding you close to him, his hand was brushing your hair out of your face as he whispered to you, “You're okay, you're safe now.” He repeated over and over as he just held you, you weren’t sure if he was convincing you or himself.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas wiped the remaining blood on a rag before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you against him and nuzzling into your neck. Giggling you gave him a playful shove, “Lunch will never be ready if you keep it up.” He just huffs, placing a kiss to your neck before getting himself a drink. The poor man didn’t even get a chance to sit down before Hoyt was yelling demands at him again. “I’m going to check out the roads again. Get outside and finish setting the traps up out the back.” Thomas placed his cup down with a sigh, gently caressing the side of your face before making his way outside.

It wasn’t long before you heard some noises coming from behind the basement door, you were used to it at this point and as much as it bothered you, you knew you had to ignore it. You didn’t get to think twice about it before a man came bursting from behind the door. You froze, looking towards the knife on the table you leapt towards it, unfortunately the man seemed to have noticed your gaze and reached the knife before you did. “Scream and you die.”

He steps towards you and you pull away as he tries to grab you. The scuffle gained the attention of Monty who soon rolled into the kitchen, seeing you being manhandled he began yelling for Thomas. The man grabbed you by the hair and dragged you out the front towards the cars. You didn’t know how far Thomas had wandered away from the house, would he have heard Monty? Would he reach you in time?

It wasn’t long before you heard the roar of the chainsaw you tried to turn to look for Thomas but the man’s hold on you is too tight. You hear the chainsaw getting louder but you're getting too close to the cars now. You have no weapon and the grip the man has on you is unbreakable. Panic starts to set in, you're frantically searching for anything to get you away from him. You notice the man has a slight limp, readying yourself you use all your strength and kick him in the side of the knee as hard as you can, he buckles and let’s go of you in the process.

You turn and run towards Thomas as fast as you can, he slows down as he reaches you quickly looking you over to make sure you're safe before running after the soon to be dead man. He doesn’t hesitate before impaling him with the chainsaw. Dropping it immediately when he’s finished with the man.

When Thomas reaches you, you can see the pain in his eyes. He drops to his knees in front of you, face lowered and avoiding eye contact. You know Thomas always blames himself, for you being stranded here, for the life you’ve been forced to lead, for you being hurt. You kneel down and cup his cheek coaxing him to look at you. “I’m okay Tommy, were okay.” You continue reassuring him, as the words seem to sink in he gently pulls you into his lap his arms wrapping around you. You don’t know how long you stay there before Thomas sends you inside while he cleans up the mess. Expect that Thomas will be very needy and protective over the next few weeks, he needs to know you're there and you're okay. Thomas doesn’t know what he would do without you in his life and he never wants to find out.

[jackoquako]

Burning from the Inside

Yan! Batfamily x neglected! male! meta! Reader

Prologue: House Fire

Summary: A look back in your memories of a simpler time, and how it stopped being so simple. Word Count: 1463 Reading Time: 6:09 (mins:secs) Notes: I've wanted to write a batfam fic for a while but couldn't think of an interesting spin for the reader, that is until I read a oneshot about an Ice! meta reader that I can't seem to find again (😞) and my third eye opened. This reader is low-key inspired by an oc of mine, who I actually have a pinterest board for, but I've done my best to keep y/n fairly blank for people to project onto. It may or may not come up later in the story (haven't decided) but I'm imagining y/n as a trans man and as an unreliable narrator with memory issues so. First chapter is queued to go up in a week! Warnings: written in first person, anger issues (on reader's side), descriptions of a parent dying, lots of mentions of fire, reader being tossed around in the foster system. Please comment if you think I've missed a warning!

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Rage burned under your skin constantly. When you were young, still kind and innocent, it was easier to control, it didn’t burn quite as hot. You still had a temper- your mother would end up dragging you home from school after many arguments on the playground getting too loud, but it never felt so much like drowning before. 

You were never certain of where your rage came from until an event when you were seven. The memory, clear as glass, would replay every night for that week. Whilst playing  in the front yard, you had noticed a car pull up. It was shiny and silver, that you remembered. But the woman who exited the car was more blurred by time degrading the memory. She’d smiled at you as she walked up to the front door, knocking politely without acknowledging you any more. She’d excitedly talked to your mother, giving your mom a piece of paper before your mother blew up. You’d never seen her so angry before. She’d screamed at the woman, scaring her into running back to her shiny car. 

The woman had driven off in a frenzy, the wheels kicking up dead leaves which showered over you in a confetti spray of autumn colors. Your mom had walked over and scooped you into a tight hug before pulling you inside. You didn’t play outside alone much after that. Your childhood had been normal beyond the odd moments like that.

You used to get ice cream with your mom after a particularly hard day at school, walking in the park as you shared a styrofoam bowl of slowly melting ice cream with her. You held onto that memory with an iron grip. She’d also take you to various garage sales and thrift stores, allowing you to buy the occasional toy or plushie every once in a while. It was only when you were older that you realized how tight of a budget you two had been on. You don’t worry about money much anymore. Maybe to someone who’d grown up richer your childhood sounded awful, but to you it was the golden years of your life. You’d never realized how much you valued your life in your small city with your mom, living in your tiny house at the edge of the city limits, until it was suddenly ripped away.

You’d been sitting in class, scribbling away at the margins of your notebook as the teacher droned on and on. Math was your least favorite subject since the teacher had the most monotonous voice ever. You’d only glanced out the window for a moment, staring at the birds in the trees, when the teacher was interrupted by a knock at the door. You watched as your math teacher walked to the door and opened it for an officer. Something like this would usually become the talk of the lunch period, concerned hushed voices slowly graduating into whispery gossiping over the course of a meal. So you’d watched intently as the officer spoke in a low, almost inaudible, tone to the teacher, who turned and locked eyes with you specifically. Your heart began to race as your teacher gestured for you- not another student, not anyone else- to come over. Your heartbeat had pounded in your ears as you got up, already hearing the concerned “what’s going on”s and “is everything okay”s from your classmates. Your teacher had an expression on their face that you couldn’t quite grasp in the moment. Later on, however, you’d later categorize it as something between sorrow and despair. It wasn’t the last time you saw that expression that day.

The officer had gently guided you into the hall where an administrator was waiting. Your worry shapeshifted into nervousness. You couldn’t remember doing anything horrible that’d warrant a police officer being there. Nervous that you’d be expelled over something you couldn’t remember, you began rambling apologies to the administrator, grasping at every single wrong thing you could remember doing. The man had just smiled and looked down at you with something akin to pity- the memory of that pitying expression made your skin crawl- and stopped your rambling with a single gesture. Then, the cop spoke. And the world you’d known shattered into bits.

The words came in bits and pieces as your brain struggled to adjust to this new reality you’d been thrown into. 

Your mother. House fire. The cop was sorry.

That was the thing that always stuck out to you. The apologies from people; as if they’d been the ones to start the fire. It still felt like molten sugar on a burn wound when people responded with “I’m so sorry for your loss”, even so many years later. It seemed like this one tragedy had suddenly changed everyone’s perception of you, reshaping you into the poor boy who was orphaned at the age of 11. 

That week (maybe it was a month, the specifics were hazy) turned into a blur as the world seemed to spin faster and faster around you. Suddenly, you were pulled from school and talking to social workers who had their own shiny cars, you were passed from adult to adult in a frantic bid for control over the situation your small city’s government found itself in. You remembered dizzy days in a guidance counselor’s office, then being rushed to a group home, then to a foster family, then another foster family further away, and again and again. Each time you were re-homed like a bad gift, you found yourself further and further from your little home town you’d loved. You don’t remember anything beyond the crushing weight of your mother being gone.

The only clear memory you have of that time was when a foster family took pity on you and drove you back home, to town. They brought you to the burnt-out remains of your old home. Neither member of the couple could hold you back when you ran towards the charred skeleton of the house. You remember crying and sobbing as hands pulled you away from the remains of the house, your own hands tightly grasping the one thing you’d managed to grab- a small book. You’d been shoved back into the car whilst hugging the book to your chest. Later, when you’d managed the courage to read that plain black book, you’d found that it was your mother’s journal. 

Maybe it was the fact that things had slowed to a more comprehensible speed, or maybe it was because you had something of your mother’s now, but you remembered more from this time period. In fact, you even remembered the foster family you’d been staying with when it happened. They were a sweet couple with a daughter not much younger than you. They’d given you your space, acting unsure and awkward whenever they interacted with you. They’d almost seemed relieved when the social worker came to retrieve you once again, as if having a grieving little boy in their house was equivalent to living with a nuclear bomb. The social worker didn’t need to prompt you at all to gather up your very few belongings and get in her car. You’d leaned your head against the window as she talked about your new home, barely paying attention. She’d talked about how “they” (you didn’t remember who “they” were. Maybe it was the police) had tried to find your father but had been unable, until he came forward himself. That deep anger flared up, flames licking at the bones of your rib cage as you kept it in. So he waltzes out of your life before you’re even born, ignores your existence for 11 whole years, and then struts back in as if nothing happened? The thought made you want to hit something. Someone. It made you want to hurt him. You’d clenched your fist and gritted your teeth as you tuned out the rest of the social worker’s speech.

Then, sooner than you’d wanted, you were in a hallway in one of the many community centers you’d been in, standing across from an elderly man wearing a suit. The fire that made you want to scream and bite and claw like a feral dog was quenched for a minute. Surely this couldn’t be your father, he was far too old. You couldn’t punch him- he’d fall over and die! You simply stood still as the man walked forward and gave a little bow. His voice was posh and his accent was clearly British, not unlike the period dramas your mom used to watch. 

“You, young man, must be (Y/N). Pleasure to meet you, my name is Alfred Pennyworth.”

He’d never know, but with that simple introduction, Alfred Pennyworth changed your world a second time.

[ozzgin]

Hello!

🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.

Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?

I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?

The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.

Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually

Sincerely

-🌟

Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;

Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)

Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.

“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.

“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”

“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.

The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.

The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.

“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.

You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.

You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.

And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.

This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.

“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”

You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.

“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.

“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.

“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.

Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.

Unfortunately, there is no time for that.

The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.

The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.

“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.

“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”

He stares in confusion.

“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.

“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”

Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.

“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”

He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.

“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.

This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.

“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”

What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.

“Sure. I know a better place, though.”

Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.

“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”

“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”

“Excuse me?”

Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.

“H-hey, what did you mean-”

The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.

You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.

“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.

The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.

“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.

Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.

“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”

Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.

Your bodyguard truly knows you best.

[slutforwoo]

dead by daylight.

| song mingi - oneshot |

I ☆ pairing: killer mingi! x survivor reader!

I ☆ summary: waking up to find out you and 3 other people must escape a killer. sable teaches you the ropes, assuring you all must escape. but when you have the killer chasing you for the entire time and he gets you, the team leaves you for dead. well at least that’s what you thought.

I ☆ genre: smut, slight gore

I ☆ warnings: lowercase intended, blood, injuries, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating knife play, blood consumption, slight unintended bdsm, rough sex, choking, dacryphillia, death, slapping, sadistic behavior, reader is a masochist, degrading, cream pie, slight size kink, bulge kink, everything is consensual (reader is crazy), this is based off the game but with my own interpretations, not proof read, let me know if I missed anything?

I ☆ other members here : hongjoong, seonghwa, yunho, yeosang, san, mingi, wooyoung, jongho

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

fuck, how the fuck did you end up here? the last thing you remember was the entity creeping up on you before it dragged you into the darkness.

now though, you were in the middle of a neighborhood. surrounded by three other people, all wearing the same look of fear on their faces.

“um what the fuck is going on?” you question, feeling panic start to settle in your bones. there was a sense of urgency rushing through you but you needed to know what was going on.

the girl with white hair immediately turns her attention towards you, pity written on her face.

“you’re new… fuck okay come with me. jane, david go ahead i’m gonna show this one the ropes. just be careful. I think it’s pyramid head” the girl said to the other two before they ran off in separate directions.

she turns back to look at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a secluded place behind a bush.

“what the fuck” you said, snatching your arm and looking around again, a thick fog covered the ground, there was a hook just a couple of feet away from you and a machine looking thing?

“okay so, my name is sable. I need you to listen to me. and listen carefully” she pleaded, grabbing your face and making you look at her “I don’t know where you came from but I need you to forget about it all. right now there is a killer on the loose and we need to escape. there’s four of us, we need to finish 5 generators in order to power the escape exit” she explained.

what? what do you mean you were being chased by a killer and to escape you needed to? what? there was no way this was happening to you right now. what the fuck.

“look, we don’t have much time. if you hear a heartbeat close to you. run. and. hide. if he hooks you twice, your done for” sable said as she slowly lets go of you, letting you take in the information she provided you with.

and somehow, there was a switch in you. a sudden survival instinct you just couldn’t shake. you mumble under ur breath before you finally respond to sable.

“okay okay. let’s do this?” you say nervously before you follow sable as she ran to the closest generator

you start to instinctively mess with the wires and gears. you’ve never been here before? how did your hands know how to mess with this?

there wasn’t much time that past before you heard a shrieking scream, sable mumbles a quick fuck before stopping what she was doing on the generator.

“do you see them” she’s asks.

you take a moment to observe the surroundings, and then you see it. the red outline of the hook with a person on it.

“I do yea” you said hesitantly

sable gets up and wipes the dirt off of her before mentally preparing herself. “we need to go unhook them. before it’s too late” she stresses

“let’s do it” you blurt, why the fuck were you going. couldn’t you just stay here and do the generator?

sable begins to sprint off with you close on her heels. as you get closer and closer to the person who was on the hook, you finally hear it.

the sickening heartbeat pounding through your ears. it wasn’t close but it made you feel sick. yet you kept following sable, soon ending up in front of jane who was bleeding out on the hook.

as sable is trying to unhook jane, the heartbeat sound began to move closer and closer to where you were at.

“we need to move now” you say, trying to get the girls to hurry up and heal elsewhere.

they ignored you as sable continued to heal jane, when she suddenly lets out an unwilling scream. eyes going wide she books it, and so does jane.

while you should’ve taken this as a sign to run, you hesitated, then suddenly you feel a piercing pain in your feet. letting out a guttural scream as you feel barbed wire and metal pierce your feet.

hot tears run down your face as you get yourself out of it. feet bloody, every small step felt as if you were being pierced again. but what you failed to notice, was the heartbeat sound beating so loud you had to cover your ears.

then, there he was right in front of you, blade slashing you as you tried to run away from him. god fuck he was fucking scary.

even with the injuries slowing you down, you somehow managed to get slightly out of his reach as he chased you.

he lets out a deep sickening laugh as you pant breaths and whimper because of pain.

as he laughed, a distorted voice echoed from behind you. “you can’t run forever” he laughed.

heart beating in your ears, at this point you couldn’t tell if it was your own or his. you run. and run. navigating twist and turns to somehow evade him some more. hearing the faint clicks of completed generators, you were determined to buy them time to finish them all.

you found yourself trying to escape the killer in one of the homes. going in and out of rooms, jumping out of the windows, yet he never let you out of his sight.

mingi was determined to get the new blood on his hands. no one would be leaving here tonight. well perhaps the others. but you. you were going to be his.

as you navigated through the home, you fall through the chunk of missing floor. grunting as you get up and look around.

you were in a basement, with four hooks in the center of the room. blood coating the entire room and floors. spotting the stairs you make a run for it, but you lucked out.

mingi strikes you one final time, causing you to fall to the ground unable to run. you try to crawl but he laughs once again. picking you up by your hair as you scream from the tight grip.

throwing you over his shoulder, he walks to the center of the room. hauling you onto the hook, piercing the right side of your shoulder.

tears ran down your face, what the fuck was going on, this is fucking morbid.

then you heard it. the final click of the last generator and the buzz of the gates following after.

you yelled and screamed, hoping that one of them would be back for you. they couldn’t just leave you here after you distracted him long enough for them to finish.

“they won’t come back for you” the distorted voice spoke, the pyramid head tilting to the side as he watched you scream and bleed out into the floor.

“yes they will”you cried, but fuck they didn’t know you. they had seemed very well acquainted with each other and if it was between them escaping and leaving you behind, well you knew the answer.

mingi rolled his eyes internally as he took off the pyramid mask, letting it fall on his side as he eyed you down. you were a pretty little thing. you were new and he was going to be the first to have you.

you let the tears stop, as your vision cleared you see the man standing in front of you. mask off and fuck he was oddly attractive.

then you hear it, the last sound of the group leaving. they really fucking left you? after YOU were the one who distracted this sick fuck the entire time?

mingi watches as your face morphs from fear to sheer anger. you thrash and scream. furious that you were now stuck here with him.

“are you done?” mingi says, finally speaking in his normal tone as he inches closer to you “can’t do much thinking with you screaming”

you feel yourself burn with hatred “don’t you have something better to do” you say through gritted teeth.

“than kill you? no not really” mingi smiled at you dragging his great knife along side him as he inches closer. “I told you they’d leave you” he whispers, coming closed enough to put his hand on your cheek. causing you to slap his arm away from you

“shouldn’t have done that sweetheart” he says as he takes out a smaller knife and slices your cheek shallowly.

you moan out in pain, oddly turned on by this psychopath and the pain he was inflicting. god u definitely had something wrong with you.

mingi takes his finger and collects some of the blood from your cheek, tasting you, the metallic taste coating his tastebuds.

“hm your new” he says “I know every survivor you know, but you. you I dont” he says.

“please just let me go” you plead, knowing it won’t go anywhere but you try.

“can’t let my new toy escape when i’ve barely gotten you sweetheart” he says, picking you up off the hook and throwing you back over his shoulder

walking over to the corner of the room he reaches a set of chains with cuffs hanging from the ceiling. he puts both of your wrist and lets you dangle from the ceiling, legs attempting to kick him but there was no use.

he takes a couple of steps back to look at you. taking in the fact you look like a mess, covered in blood, dirt and sweat.

and you take him in. he was tall. very. tall. broad and covered in dried blood, his apron covered in different liquids and dirt. if he wasn’t trying to kill you in this very moment, you’d definitely try to get at him.

“what’s your name” he ask, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of you.

you debate on not answering him but regardless you were stuck here. so there was no point.

“y/n”

“what a pretty name for a pretty thing” he smiles. while other killers already had survivors they fancied. mingi hadnt. not until you.

you roll your eyes as you look at him, his eyes were hungry. but you couldn’t tell if it was for blood. or lust.

“mingi” he said, “usually pyramid head but you can call me mingi”

as he got up to get closer to the table filled with different torture devices he could use on you. you quickly try to think of a way to stall him.

“how’d you end up here mingi” you ask hesitantly

he stops dead in his tracks before responding “just like you. I woke up here one day and was instructed to kill to keep the entity pleased” he said, turning back to face you.

“ah, well at least you didn’t have a team abandon you after you bought them time to finish everything” you say sarcastically.

mingi laughs, maybe there was another way of ending this night. “you know you could get back at them” mingi said absentmindedly.

ears perking up you eagerly look at him “how” you say.

“become my helper, we can be a duo together sweetheart” he said, coming close to you once again.

you felt the wetness in between your legs. there was no fucking way this man was turning you on right now. after he just chased you down to kill you?

and mingi, he smelled it. the arousal pooling in between your legs. he smirked as he got close enough to have his body touching yours.

“I can smell you hun” he whispered in your ear, hand making its way down your neck. “you find all of this arousing?” he questioned

there was no use in hiding it. you didn’t know what it was in you that found this arousing but you did. nodding shyly you avoid eye contact with him.

mingi chuckled as he grabbed your face and made you face him. your eyes showed it, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“use ur words sweetheart”

oh god, again straight to in between your legs. “yes mingi.. I do” you say weakly, not really wanting to admit it.

“no wonder your here, everyone who is, they’re twisted in some way you know” he says before continuing “you want me to take care of your little problem?”

his hand trailed to the waistband of your jeans, awaiting your answer.

you knew this was fucking insane and you should definitely say no. but I mean if he did end up killing you, and he was offering some fun. might as well take it right? it’s not everyday your killer is a hot as he is AND ask for consent to touch you.

“please”

he doesn’t waste time, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down with your underwear. his hand finding your clit as he rubbed it slowly, watching as you sigh in pleasure.

his fingers worked your clit before he pressed one finger into you, wanting to see how you react to it. when a moan escapes from your lips, mingi adds another finger.

you feel your eyes roll back as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. he really knew what he was doing.

“come on let those noises out hun” he mumbled as he dropped to his knees.

when he pulls out his fingers you feel a sense of emptiness causing you to whine at the loss of his touch. it didn’t last long before mingi grabs your legs and throws them on his shoulders as he eats you out.

it was like he was starving and you were going to be his last and final meal.

you trash against the chains holding you, body being consumed by the pleasure this man was giving you. it made you forget about any of the injuries he had given you not too long ago.

you tasted so fucking sweet, and it was driving mingi insane. he licked every inch of you, sucking on your clit to get that whiney whimper you let out when he did.

“f-fuck m-mingi” you moan not caring that he was most likely going to kill you after this.

you moaning his name flipped a switch in him, he kept eating you out, adding little bites here and there that were making you reel.

he needed you to finish on his tongue, so he pushed two fingers inside of you as he kept eating you out.

a cry of pleasure leaves your throat as you chant mingi’s name over and over like a mantra.

“g-gonna cum”

mingi let himself detach from you for just a moment, “cum sweetheart” he uttered before he attached himself once again

the knot that was sitting in the pit of ur stomach came undone, body tensing and shaking from the wave of pleasure that took over.

he lapped up every last drop of you, becoming obsessed with the way you tasted. you weren’t going anywhere and he’d make sure of it.

but he wasn’t done, he wanted you to do that again. so he kept going, his tongue fucking you as his nose hit your clit just right.

he was sending you into overdrive and you knew it, crying out at how good it felt. but it was too much, your mind turned into mush as he continued

“m-mingi t-too m-much” you cried, body shaking.

but he didn’t care, he wouldn’t stop u til you came again on his tongue. he went somehow deeper into you, feeling ur spongey walls pulse around his tongue

tears welling in your eyes from the intense pleasure as you felt yourself become undone once again.

“fuck” you moaned as you shook uncontrollably, causing mingi to hold you in place as he worked you through your high.

your body slacked as he moved your legs and stood back up. seeing you being help up the chain, looking like a mess.

as your vision starts to focus back you see him staring at you, eyes full of need. he wanted more.

“think you can take me princess?” he asks, his hand lifting your chin to make your low eyes meet his.

you nod lazily, knowing he just made you cum twice on his tongue in under 10 minutes. imagine what he could do with his dick? yea you weren’t going to pass up that opportunity.

you feel a sharp sting on the cheek that has the slash on it before you hear him speak again “words princess or you don’t get anything” he sneered, watching blood drip down your face.

“yes. please. wanna feel you” you choke out, throat dry from screaming and crying.

mingi chuckles at the sound of your rasp voice, waking over to unlock the chain holding you up. you fall into his arms as he walks you over to the table that held all of the blades and torture devices, clearing the table he sets you down on ur back.

seeing the way he towers over you, had you all worked up again. he was so big compared to you, the way he just easily moved you. maybe it wasn’t so bad getting left behind.

he undoes the messy apron, letting fall to the ground as he undoes his pants.

fuck his body was like he was sculpted by the gods themselves. his defined abs and v-line. when he pulled down his pants you see just how big he is. there was no way that was fitting inside of you.

mingi notices your eyes go wide at the sight of him “don’t tell me ur scared pretty girl” he taunts, pumping him self a bit before lining up with your entrance.

“there is no way you’re fitting in me..” you say, eyes going from his face to his dick.

he was big, at the very least 10 inches and wide. he was going to actually rip u open.

mingi starts to slightly push in as he leans down to whisper in ur ear. “you’re going to take it all. and your going to say thank you” he said before forcing himself to bottom out in you.

the stretch burned in way that was so good, a scream leaving ur mouth as he pushed fully inside you. your mind was growing foggy with the mixture of pain and pleasure.

looking down slightly you see a bulge in ur stomach, showing just how deep in you he really was. god this man was going to ruin you.

he starts at a slow pace, thrusting slow and deep. you were fucking tight. really. fucking. tight. it was taking all of mingis self control to not cum right then and there. he places his hand on the bulge in ur stomach.

“you see how deep I am baby?” he says in a mocking tone as your eyes roll back when he pushes down on it.

hands reaching to grip the ends of the table as he stretches you out and your a moaning mess. but fuck he was going so slow.

“faster. harder. please” you beg and mingi wasted no time in speeding up his pace.

your mouth hanging open as you moan and cry, taking mingis hand and putting it around your neck. quickly getting the hint, mingi chokes you as he fucks you. placing just the right amount of pressure to make your head go dizzy from the lack of air, and when right when your about to pass out he lets go.

taking a spare knife that was sitting on the table, he rips your shirt open. leaving u in just your bra as he traces your skin with the knife.

“say thank you or i’ll mark up your pretty skin some more” he grunts in between thrust.

quite frankly, you wanted him to do it. so you don’t listen to his instructions. knowing damn well he’ll follow through.

and he does, taking the knife he creates small sallow cuts on your stomach. licking up the blood and kissing the cuts before he grips your hair tightly and yanks you up.

“what did I say you little slut, say thank you for what i’m giving you” he growls, somehow fucking into you harder.

rugged gasps leave your throat as he gets you closer to your climax. “thank you sir. thank you. thank you” you cry out as he continues.

mingi smiles as he kisses your forehead gently before letting you go, letting your hand fall back onto the table.

“now that wasn’t so hard baby. you can be good girl” he says, bringing that same knife back up to your throat and pressing slightly.

“ ‘m close” you whine, trying your hardest to not cum without permission while he has a knife pressed against your throat.

he slows down just a bit, fucking you harder and deeper as he neared his own climax.

“cum with me” he gasps and his hips begin to stutter as you tighten around him.

letting the wave of pleasure wash over, stars cover your vision as you cum around him. mingi doesn’t fall far behind as he stills in you, spilling into you before he pulls out.

he pants for a bit before he dresses himself, grabbing your underwear and pants. he cleans you up a bit with a towel and some warm water he somehow had. then he slips on your clothes and conjures up a new top for you to put on.

you sit up weakly on the table, mind still foggy as you try to regain full control of ur mind. but once you do, you see mingi sitting on a chair in front of you, a menacing smile on his face. no doubt about it he was going to fucking kill you now. after dicking you down and giving you the best you’ve ever had. what bullshit.

“my offer still stands pretty girl” he says, leaning back and keeping his eyes on you.

that’s right. the offer to become his helper and you could get revenge on the people who left you here in the first place.

finally with your focus fully back, you sat and thought about it. they knew you were new and that you didn’t know exactly how things worked. and when you were in deep shit. they. fucking. left. you. for. dead.

so what harm could come from joining his side?

“i’ll join you” you said, finally looking up to meet his gaze.

“oh baby we’re going to have so much fun” mingi said in that distorted voice as he put the giant pyramid head back on.

he walked up to you, grabbing your hand and slicing it without any warning.

you winced in pain as he sliced his own hand, grabbing yours and squeezing the blood out of both of your hands and letting it fall to the floor. summoning the entity to appear in front of the two of you.

“i’ve been summoned” said a deep, warped voice.

“i’ve got someone who wants to join us” mingi’s distorted voice said as he grabs you off the table and forces you onto your knees in front of the entity.

a black sharp limb reaches out from the smoke, caressing your face as they inspect the damage done to you.

“she has to ask for it” the voice said, prompting you to look up from the floor.

“I want to join you. I want to be his helper” your voice trembled as you faced the entity once again, seeing a faint red glow of eyes staring back at you.

it lets out a deep laugh before you feel your throat be slashed by mingi. choking on your blood as it spilled and poured out.

you black out for a couple of minutes before you regain your consciousness. looking around you only seeing mingi, sitting and waiting.

“what happened?” you ask as you slowly get up. noticing you no longer had any injuries besides the cuts mingi left when he was in you.

the normal clothes you had on were gone, instead you had a thin long black dress. and right next to you was your own pyramid head it was smaller than mingi’s, yours rusted and black unlike his rusted brown color.

“you did it sweetheart” he said, head nodding towards the mask “that’s for you when we chase and kill”

you smile as you pick it up and place it on your head. somehow still being able to see around you.

mingi hands you a large blade, and as soon as you take a hold of it. the wind blows strongly as you suddenly appear in a run down school.

“are you ready princess?” mingi asks.

“oh definitely” you say, voice coming out distorted as the two of you begin to run towards the pops of the generators.

inching closer you see the familiar white hair with purple tips.

oh. you were going to enjoy this.

☆ ngl I kinda wanna do a little series’s with each ateez member as a dbd killer with this twist.. lmk what you guys think!!

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Red Alert

 Pairing: John MacTavish x Reader

Summary: Off the clock and out of uniform, Y/N turns heads—and turns Soap’s world upside down.

Warnings: Mild language, flirting, a tad bit of jealous Johnny in there, minor violence and implied sexual tension.

MASTERLIST

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The idea was simple: one night, no guns, no comms, no “breach and clear.” Just music, drinks, and maybe a little dancing. Y/N and Soap had pushed hard for it, practically dragging the team by their necks like stubborn mules.

“Come on, Cap’n,” Johnny had begged dramatically, arms spread wide like he was on stage. “We just finished a goddamn month crawling through shit in three countries. We deserve a drink that doesn’t taste like motor oil.”

“And maybe wear something that doesn’t have bloodstains on it,” she added with a grin.

It took some effort—mostly from Y/N and her “pretty please” face—but finally, even Ghost caved. Begrudgingly. With his mask still firmly in place, but he’d be there.

They’d expected a typical night. A bit of banter, some decent whisky, and watching Soap try and fail to dance like a normal human.

What they didn’t expect… was Y/N.

The woman who spent the last month in cargo pants, plate carriers, and face streaked with dirt—suddenly gliding into the VIP section of the club like temptation had put on heels and decided to commit war crimes.

Her dress was red. Not crimson. Not burgundy. Red—the kind that screamed danger ahead. It clung to her curves like a second skin, dipped low at the back, stopped mid thigh, and shimmered under the club lights every time she moved. Instead of her regulation bun she normally rocked daily, her hair was down and framed her face beautifully. She looked relaxed, a complete one-eighty from what they were accustomed to seeing her in.

Soap’s drink nearly slipped from his hand. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered under his breath.

Gaz, not one to hide his reactions, gave a low whistle. “That’s definitely not regulation.”

Price just blinked at her over the rim of his glass, the fatherly “you’re giving me a heart attack” look written all over his face. Even Ghost, who normally couldn’t be rattled by a damn grenade, stiffened ever so slightly.

“What?” she asked as she made it to where they were seated, noticing the looks on all of their faces as she approached.

“Where’s the rest of the dress, lass?”

“If you all thought I wasn’t going to show off these legs after a month of being in cargo pants and caked in dirt, you all sadly thought wrong.” The low lighting in the club made her look even more deadly than she was.

The song changed and she left them there to their own devices, making her way out to the dancefloor. Johnny’s eyes tracked her every move, eyes trained on the flimsy dress that she most definitely couldn’t bend down in unless she wanted to flash everyone. Feeling eyes on her, she put an extra sway in her hips.

From the booth they had eyes on everything- the exits, the group of persons on the dancefloor and most importantly… her. Price and Simon were having their own conversation while Gaz was busy flicking his eyes between Y/N and Johnny, the Scottish bloke hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

It didn’t help that half the club’s male population suddenly realized she were there too. 

“Bloody hell mate. Breathe, blink, do something other than stare at her.” Gaz chuckled at his friend’s dazed state. 

Johnny snapped out of whatever trance he was under and looked over to Gaz who still wore a shit eating grin. “I wasn’t staring.” His eyes flicked back to the dancefloor to see Y/N dancing with a stranger. His grip tightened on his glass at the sight of the man sliding his hands up her legs. 

Too close for both his and her preference.

Noticing her change in demeanor Johnny got up and stalked through the crowd to get to her. He got there in time to see her stomp her stiletto heel on the man’s foot causing him to grunt in pain. She turned to walk away but the man held onto her wrist which earned him a right hook to the nose from Y/N. 

“You bitch!” The man howled in pain, blood gushing from his nose. Anger flashed in his eyes and before he could retaliate Johnny clamped his hand down on the man’s shoulder, leaning in to make sure the man heard him when he spoke.

“I’d fucking leave before more than your nose gets broken.” The man opened his mouth to protest but Johnny squeezed harder on his shoulder until he caved.  

The guy backed off. Smart.

“I had that under control.” Y/N cocked an eyebrow at the Scotsman who stared down at her. 

“Nice punch you got there. Remind me not to piss you off.” A slower song came on this time, a wicked smile graced her lips. Y/N wagged her finger in a come-hither motion, taking hold of his hand.

“Dance with me, Johnny.”

He swore his brain shorted out for a second. The way she said his name—soft, teasing—sent a shiver down his spine and knocked the wind right out of him. His stomach flipped like he was sixteen again and completely, utterly doomed.

“Dunno if I’m trained for this,” he joked, swallowing hard as his eyes traced the way that bloody dress shimmered when she turned.

She leaned in, breath teasing the shell of his ear. “Not everything’s in the manual, Johnny.”

Soap had fought enemies with knives. Explosives. Even his bare fists. But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for the sight of Y/N moving to the beat, hips swaying, hair brushing her shoulders, eyes daring him to keep up.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she teased, stepping back to dance again. The music pulsed. The lights shifted. Y/N turned pushing her hips flush against his and gave them a roll, throwing a smirk over her shoulder.

Soap groaned. “You’re gonna be the bloody death of me, lass.” He held onto her hips keeping her flush against him as she swayed to the beat.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Sergeant.”

Back at the booth where the others sat, they watched on as the pair danced. “Who knew all it took for him to get off his ass was seeing someone put their hands on her.” Gaz chuckled over the rim of his glass.

By the end of the night, Johnny had danced. Twice. Drank enough liquor to get buzzed. Laughed. And very nearly started a fight when some other guy tried to buy Y/N a drink.

She was glowing—laughing, spinning, alive in a way that field ops didn’t allow.

And Johnny?

He was just realizing that the person he saw as his field partner, his chaos counterpart, his brother-in-arms…

…might just be his biggest threat yet.

Because now, every time he looked at her, all he could think about was that damn red dress.

And how he'd never be able to see her as just a teammate again.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism: "No thank you! I have a partner!"

Silly. G/N. Y'all probably seen the meme. Your partner comes home drunk and doesn't recognise you. Masterlists

Gun Park, Ryuhei Kuroda, Goo Kim, DG, Vin Jin, Jake Kim, Samuel Seo

Loud scratching and thumps at your front door wakes you. You wonder whether to arm yourself with a frying pan and then you hear your boyfriend muttering slurred profanities.

A loud bang reverberates through your home as he stumbles, drunk, through the door.

With a sigh, you crawl out of bed to check the state they're in.

Gun gazes at you, bleary-eyed and half focused. Slightly swaying on his feet, a very unusual sight of someone usually in full control of their body.

Then something clicks in his brain, eyes hardening just before he looks away. He tells you, tone disinterested, that he's a taken man.

"I don't know how I ended up here, but don't get the wrong idea."

He turns around, exits his own living room, exits his own home, and sleeps outside the apartment in the hallway instead.

.

.

"Yeah you're pretty cute," Ryuhei mumbles, words slurring together, "But my partner is cuter."

He pulls his phone out, drops it twice, unlocks it on the third attempt and shows you a picture - one that you have seen, actually one that you took of him smooching you on the cheek.

"Aren't they cute?" He beams, utterly besotted. "Let me just crash here," he says as he collapses on the sofa. "If you touch me I'll scream."

.

.

"Get your hands off me!" Goo screeches, slapping you away as you try to undress him and get him ready for bed. "My my, you're forward aren't you?"

Goo leans forward and gives you a smile halfway between utterly charming and complete sleazeball.

Then, all bravado evaporates and he sighs.

"Oh sweetheart you would be just my type, but," he pushes you off the bed, "I'm taken and very happy about it."

He lies down, burritoing himself and turning his back to you. "You can make your own way out."

.

.

Vin fiddles with his sunglasses, peering approvingly at you.

Even in his drunken haze he can tell that damn, you're fine. Except. He is also lucid enough to realise he is not looking respectfully anymore and he thinks of you, his ride or die, and his face completely changes.

He frowns and asks you what the hell you are looking at. That you have no chance. He has a partner at home that is much hotter, much better, thank you very much and yeah he's an asshole but he's not going to cheat so back the fuck off.

You roll your eyes, hackles would have been much higher if he wasn't actually being sweet in his own way.

.

.

DG takes a moment to process the situation. And when he does, he gets it completely wrong.

He plasters on his k-pop smile. The one reserved for winning over fans, interviewers and for his insincere apology videos.

"Did you want an autograph?" He pulls out a photocard from his inner pocket and a pen (and wow, you did not realise he carried a stack of his photos. You are not going to let him live this down) and scribbles his signature that comes with some love hearts and sparkles and passes it over to you.

"Here you go," he holds it out to you in both hands, not before mumbling under his breath, "You're cute but shit if you turn into another stalker..."

.

.

Jake is already asleep on the sofa by the time you pad out, which must be some super power in itself.

"Wake up," You give his shoulder a shake. He frowns, then cracks one eye open. "Come to bed."

He grunts something indecipherable and attempts to roll his oversized frame on your undersized sofa.

"Jake, cmon."

You start to drag him to your bedroom, your touch finally waking something inside and he bolts upright, removing your hands firmly off him.

"I have a partner." He tells you with no room for any misinterpretation. "But," he scratches absentmindedly at his stomach, "Do you have any food?"

.

.

Samuel does as he's told. Obediently removing his trousers, and unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off-

(Truly, you had no ulterior motive, you just wanted to remove the stink of alcohol.)

When, maybe for the first time in his life, he is afflicted with modesty and a startling clarity.

He yanks his shirt back on and pulls his trousers on with surprisingly sober efficiency.

"Absolutely not," he glowers at you, "This is not happening. I'm taken."

[sosickastro]

Indulgence (Bts x Chubby reader)

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

Chapter 2

Poly Bts x Chubby Reader, Soulmate au and Idol au

Summary: Poor broke and isolated mc gets the chance to go to a concert with an old high school friend, with hoping to find their soulmate and see the biggest boy band in the world. A new shocking reality hits her while at the concert.

Chapter Warnings: degrading thoughts, poor writing and grammar, gender confused reader, anxiety, mc being a loner, mentions of weight insecurities, swearing, fat phobia, etc (let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: second chapter omg I actually wrote it in a decent time span, I want to say thank you for the support for the first chapter! I will try my best to keep up with posting chapters, etc, etc, As we all know, Grammarly is my lord and savior, but even they can't fix my awful spelling mistakes, so let me know if anything is wrong or just ignore it for the sake of the story.

word count: 2,034

(Thank you Corinnecousins on Pinterest for this picture)

Perviously on Indulgence:

"Then for the first time in my life, I felt a tug, anxiety filled my stomach as I froze in my tracks, and my heartbeat went through the roof as I looked down at the red thread I usually forget about, it loosened. Holy shit I am near my soulmate. Holy shit. Lauren notices that I stop walking and now staring at my pinky finger asks me “Are you okay?” I initially looked around the bus station, there were a lot of people walking around, too many to see where the string goes. “Is it your soulmate?” Lauren asks me again. I couldn't speak, my mouth dry as I gave her a shaky nod. But unfortunately just as it loosens it quickly tightens again, meaning my soulmate either left or is on a bus going further away from me. “I wonder if he felt it” I questioned out loud, looking at Lauren with shaken eyes. She sighs, almost equally disappointed “Come on Clare is waiting for us, we don’t want to keep her waiting.” Lauren tells me, grabbing my hand and basically dragging me to the exit. I can’t stop staring at my red thread, there's hope. There is always hope. Now I at least can find comfort that he is in the States, and not in Korea or Russia or anything far away. "

We make it to Clare’s car, she smiles at me as this is our first time meeting. I put on a smile as I tried to push through all the emotions I was feeling at the moment. But it is more complicated than I’d like to admit. The man I moved halfway across the country for is now somewhere in the city that’s only 3 hours away from my 4-year hellscape of a college.

 I let out a deep sigh as I looked over to Lauren and Clare, who were having a quiet conversation themselves. Clare nodded at something Lauren said, a look of concern and slight confusion filled her eyes, and spread across her face. “I’m fine yall— let’s get going before I hear another kid scream their head off,” I tell them with a slight chuckle, hoping that I’m schooling my face well enough to at least look like I’m fine as well as my typical dry humar distractes them from the imdending breakdown I am bout to face in tminus 10 seconds. 

Lauren eyes me up and down while also looking deep into my very soul to see if I’m lying to her. Clare shrugs, “I agree.” Lauren seems to give up her soul searching and nods her head. In silence that was not completely awkward, we got into Clare’s small car. I shove my bag and myself into the back seat, hoping that the fabric of the cheap seats swallows me whole.

 After 30 minutes of awful pop music from the local radio station, – Clare saying something about “keeping up with the latest music” – Clare’s occasional road rage and cars honking, we reach a small street lined with small shops and other downtown “hippie” and “local” boutiques. As God was on our side we found a decent parking spot with little to no casualties, though I was pretending not to feel the curb that Clare drove on top of.

 As the other two girls make their way to one of the many shops we will visit, I try to find it in my very core to move and get out of this stupid, beat-up car, but my every soul has died and been replaced with a mopey version of myself. I keep asking myself, “Would I ever have that chance again? To be that close to him?” The feeling of hopelessness seems to seep into my bones and takes over into my soul as I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of despair. A gust of wind hits my arm, making me shoot up in shock I yell at Clare as she laughs at me hanging off the open car door. “Come on, man, Lauren is dying to check out this new shop.” I rolled my eyes and finally found the courage to step out of the car; the car isn’t stupid, just my feelings.

 I breathe in the cold air as I match my footing with Clare, following her mindlessly as we catch up with Lauren, who is currently star-struck over this shirt. “Guys, what! Look at it!” Lauren practically screams at us, I laugh at her as I feel myself letting go of its tight grip on the soul-crushing reality. Maybe spending some money and indulging in giving the greedy company my mind, body, and soul is what I need at the moment.

 The rest of the afternoon is spent with Lauren dragging Clare and me around the street, jumping and hopping from one store to another. I found a few tops that were cute and appropriate for the concert but as for pants my fear was proving to be true as none of the shops had my size, or like any normal sizing I mean come on even the chubby girls like to overconsume, and spend all their money on a pair of jeans. 

“Isn't this so cute!” Lauren yells into my ear as I lazily glance over the rack of tops. I throw on a smile as I examine the clothes “Oh yeah, it fits you.” She smiles back at me before her eyes start analyzing the shirt once again. “I’m going to ask Clare what she thinks,” before I can respond Lauren already walked away from me. I sighed but smiled nonetheless, as I went back to looking at the mildly ugly and small tops in front of me, 

“You shouldn’t be here,” a small but pitchy voice says to me. I turn my attention to the owner of the offending voice, only to see a short girl who looks like she would be blown away by a strong gust of wind. I swear to all that is holy, if this goes in the direction I think it is, I’m gonna hole myself up in my room for the next decade. “Excuse me?” I ask the lady, confusion dances across my face as I tilt my head down at her to get a better look, black jeans, black top, and oh- look! A name tag, great, she works here. 

“I’m saying,” her pitchy voice raises a notch as she scoffs at me. “You don’t belong here, none of these sizes will fit you.” She gives me a once-over before crossing her arms and staring up at my face. Yup this went exactly how I was expecting it to. Look, I’m not a Karen or anything of the sort, so the following things I say don’t represent me at all. My eyebrow raised in amusement at her sheer audacity, but two can play this stupid game. 

“Oh, really now? I’m sure your manager or other coworkers would love to hear that you're being rude to a customer just based on their weight.” I give her a fake pout. Her eyes widen at my words, “I’m sure this establishment prides itself on being fat-phobic to their customers, so maybe you will finally get some recognition. Oh! And this interaction will make you get that pay raise you have been hoping for!” I fake excitement in my voice, but I am channeling all the sarcasm I have collected over the 19 years of my life. 

 She starts to stutter as her eyes are wide as dinner plates, her hands come out in front of her, trying to fix her comment she made about me as she fails over and over to come up with something to smooth over her mistake.  Another employee walks up to us, “Is everything okay over here?” The employee is an older woman and much more secure with herself. I smile at her, “Actually, no, this employee over here was telling me to leave this establishment because of my weight, and I feel very disrespected,” the said offending short girl’s body regrets itself as she turns to the older woman, trying to explain and justify herself. Again, I am not a Karen of any sort, but I am not going to let myself be disrespected by this Barbie regret just because she is insecure and projecting it onto strangers. 

The older woman smiles at me, ignoring her. “I’m very sorry she said that towards you, honey, by no means do her words represent the company and what we stand for. Rest assured, this behavior will be dealt with.” I gave the older employee a polite smile, thanking her as she took the younger girl to the back of the store. Once they left, I let out a deep sigh. Look, just because I handled that well doesn’t mean I wasn’t blowing up on the inside.

I scan my eyes around the store, spotting my two friends over the accessories. Taking another deep breath to steady myself, I make my way over there, I just need to turn off my brain and have fun. I can’t let comments like that get to me. For the next hour, we went to two different stores. I managed to find some pants that make up a complete outfit for the concert. I felt more giddy, as maybe the world isn’t so bad when you have a new outfit to wear and show off. Us three stopped at this small cafe for a late lunch and a breather.

 Lauren took the liberty to fill me in on the latest gossip and drama going on in her arts school, as Clare and I just ate peacefully. “Oh hey, what happened back at the bus station?” Clare asks me once Lauren’s gossip train slowed down, I cursed internally, as I was hoping not to think about that again. I shake my head, “It was my soulmate, the string was so tight like he was right there next to me. I was freaked out by it” I explained to her my body shrinking on itself as I reminisced on the feeling of being so close to him. Clare gave me a look of sympathy as she shared some comforting words with me.

 “Holy shit-“ Lauren’s voice breaks through my self loathing as the said girl is starting at her phone like it personally offend her, me and Clare exchanged confused looks “What’s wrong?” I ask Lauren carefully, but as soon as I speak, she shoves her phone into my face. I had to squint my eyes to adjust to the screen as I read the headline on a news article

 ‘BTS THE BIGGEST BOY BAND HAS A 8TH SOULMATE?’ 

“holy shit?!” I shout out as well as I take Lauren’s phone to read through the article quickly to make sure it wasn’t some clickbait but as I read more of it, statements from Bighit and Namjoon himself explain the situation. I passed over the phone to Clare as I stared in disbelief. Their soul group isn't complete? Does this mean that ‘SoulTies” is wrong, or did they just not know? But these guys are on a world tour right now. How are they just now discovering they have an 8th soulmate? 

“Wait, guys, did you read this part?” Clare questions us as she scans her eyes over the phone, “According to the leader of BTS, Kim Namjoon, also known as RM, Him and one other member felt a tug and their red string tightened when at the bus station in the city, where they are performing this Saturday.” Clare finishes reading the segment of the new article. 

I think my brain stopped working at that moment. A million thoughts raced into my head all at once, and the main one is “Could I be their soulmate?” but theres no way, there's no way I am the person. Besides, it's nearly impossible as well since we probably were at the bus station at two different times. There was no way two members of BTS where at the bus station and didn't cause a huge commotion. “Do you guys think we were at the station at the same time as them?” Lauren asks us, there is a childlike amusement in her voice, but Clare, thank god, shuts down that thought immediately. “There's no way, we would have seen a bunch of armies going apeshit as well as a million security guards and paparazzi.” I hum in agreement as I finish up eating.

“Well, maybe we should head to your guy's places since it's getting late.” I changed the topic to hopefully not down Laurens' hopes to much. The other two girls agreed as we packed up and paid for our food. We walk down the once busy streets, now its just a few stray people going home like us. When we came into view of Clare's beat-up car, I sighed in relief. Today was fun, a lot of it if I dont think about how much money I just spent, but there is still this nagging feeling in my chest that something is wrong, and that my soulmate is closer to me than I think, and with the article? I dont know what to think at all, I just want to enjoy the concert and leave this stupid city. 

.

I watch as our soulmate gets into the back of her friend's car, and my chest aches as I see the small pout on their face. Soon, you will be with us. 

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

previous next

[wileys-russo]

bad mood blues II a.putellas x reader

little jealous bf ale fluff based around this request here bad mood blues II a.putellas

you waved to the fans as you did a lap unable to keep the grin off your face, patri’s arm slung over your shoulder as ona was tucked into your other side.

“i do not think we will ever see her sad again after this, i think her face is broken.” ona teased squishing your face which as expected continued to break out into a beaming smile.

“scoring your first hat trick will do that to someone!” patri laughed, breaking away from you as fans screamed out her name and waved their jerseys in her direction.

“so amor, excited for the private celebrations with your lover?” ona teased quietly as you blushed bright red and smacked her on the shoulder.

“be quiet! people are very good at lip reading these days.” you warned with a scowl, having known the young spaniard for several years now playing a with her at united before being bought by barcelona once your contract was up.

it was safe to say the two of you were stuck to one another’s sides like glue the moment ona finally returned home, mapi often teasing the two of you were like siamese twins seperated at birth.

which of course prompted ona to tease about your lack of natural tan and english upbringing that it was an insult to her to be tied to you in such a way.

this was normally once you’d return from international or seasonal break, your barcelona tan fading within days of returning home to manchester.

though it was first through ona that you met alexia, yet another thing she was relentless to never let you live down.

it all started during the euros when ona had hung around waiting for you after england played spain, determined to swap shirts and introduce you to some of her friends.

that lead to an incredibly nervous you being all but kidnapped by the over confident defender and dragged with her toward the spanish locker room, digging your feet in the entire time until she pushed you through the door.

the room had fallen silent just for a split second and your eyes widened, trying to push past your friend and make a hasty exit but just as quickly as silence fell it seemed you were suddenly old news and everyone fell back into their conversations.

again dragged around by ona you stumbled through the basic spanish she’d taught you as she introduced you to a few of her teammates and friends, the last of all being alexia.

within the moment going toe to toe with the woman you’d just relentlessly humiliated by lobbing a ball through her legs to score the match winner was a daunting fate, which wasn’t helped by the steely calm nature of her demeanor and rather stern appearance.

her spanish was faster than most of the other girls and you needed ona to translate despite her repeatedly asking alexia just speak to you in english which she refused.

though despite her seeming disscontempt toward you, you’d found out mere months later that she was actually rather impressed, and within a few days of your move to barcelona was making more of an effort to befriend you and make sure you felt welcomed in than you’d expected.

though you suppose you could really put that down to ona calling up each and every single one of her national team mates and warning they look after you or else she’d be on the first plane over to sort them out.

needless to say long story short you and alexia had befriended one another, which after its run its course had quite quickly turned into a harboured crush that ona found endless pleasure to tease you for as you begged her over and over not to mention it to anyone.

she didn’t of course but with alexia having confided in mapi about her own feelings toward you, it didn’t take long for the scheming and the meddling to begin, and the rest was a story for another day.

“hey isn’t that-“ ona hadn’t even finished speaking before you spotted her, eyes widening as you raced over toward the barrier, your best friend shouldering her way to the front as politely as she could.

“rosie?!” your grin somehow widened to the point you were shocked your face hadn’t split in half, the taller girl hanging awkwardly down from the barricade as you wrapped her in a hug with a laugh of disbelief.

“surprise?” the brunette beamed, cheeks flushed as you opened and closed your mouth in surprise, a few fans around all calling out for your name. “how did you even-“ you trailed off still in shock at her sudden appearance.

“we were headed for portugal but a little birdy told me you were feeling a bit homesick and might benefit from a few more brits around!” the girl nodded over your shoulder as you glanced behind you to see keira send you a grin and a nod as you mouthed thank you and she waved you off turning back to her conversation with aitana and salma.

what you didn’t see was your girlfriends at first curious glance toward you, further away and not able to see who it was you were so seemingly enamoured with her brows furrowed into a frown as she crossed her arms over her chest.

much as she might deny it over and over you knew exactly the type of hot blooded woman alexia was, and that was the jealous type. she’d never assume poorly of you or your actions, she trusted you not to ever do anything.

but it was other people alexia didn’t trust, which wasn’t helped by the fact you were hopelessly oblivious when being flirted with, forever just brushing it off as people being nice.

alexia first and foremost knew of your inability to read people’s true intentions. considering it had taken her asking you out twice before you realised she meant as more than friends and apologised profusely for being so blind which really amused the catalan more than anything.

but now, now you were hers she didn’t find it quite so cute and amusing, in fact it was positively infuriating that you never seemed to catch onto peoples true intentions and it was something that caused more debates than alexia cared to rehash.

so with that in mind and her blood running even hotter than usual she’d busied herself with post match media duties before slinking off to the change rooms.

but a glance over her shoulder before she went only worsened her mood seeing that what felt like hours later you were still hung up on chatting with the mystery brunette who just couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of you.

“duty calls superstar, i’m here with ben for another few days before we backpack to portugal. i promised id take him to dinner as penance for coming with me tonight but call me later and we can meet up properly tomorrow?” your best friend offered as the chants for your attention from fans grew and you nodded eagerly, kissing her cheek and dropping back down to the ground, the girl melting back into the ground as you started to make rounds signing things and taking photos.

still on cloud nine from your hat trick you stayed out longer than usual, reveling in your good mood as you made your way around to as many fans as you could. but with a wave from ona who'd ventured back out to remind you of the time you apologized and broke away, striding toward the tunnel.

"that was your best friend si? the one who has been travelling?" ona clarified as you nodded happily, launching into a recount of rosies nomad like life she loved, flitting from odd job to job living in vans, tents, share houses or hostels.

the girl had always been a free spirit and done her best to bring out the same in you all throughout high school where you'd met.

as soon as you both graduated, you moving into a full time football career and her to travel the world, you'd stayed close and made every effort to keep one another updated on your lives despite not seeing one another very often.

"does she know about..." ona made a face as you nodded. "yeah she does, not exactly who but she knows i'm seeing someone and i have no doubt she'll kick my door in if i don't bring ale with me when i see her." you chuckled as ona hummed with an amused smile, the two of you arriving to the change rooms which were rapidly emptying out.

"mario have you seen ale?" you frowned, unable to spot your girlfriend anywhere. "oh she left awhile ago amiga, seemed in a hurry." mariona smiled apologetically seeing you frown, thanking her.

"i'll drive you chica but be quick!" ona teased, referencing the way you used to infamously take the longest showers post game at united, though back then you drove yourself and it wasn't an issue.

alexia almost always driving you now you'd had an incentive and a reason to be fast not wanting to keep her waiting, something else ona was able to tease you for.

"gracias soldier." you kissed ona's cheek as she pulled up outside alexia's apartment complex, punching you lightly for the nickname as you grabbed your bag and waved her off.

unaware that anything was off you just assumed alexia forgot you would need a lift, having slept at your own place last night for the first time in days as alexia had an event, ona had picked you up this morning.

but the routine which existed between the two of you meant that after every match you wound up back at her place so you assumed tonight would be no different as you punched in her code and let yourself into the elevator.

you shifted your bag on your shoulder and knocked again when your girlfriend didn't answer the first time, settling as you heard her footsteps eventually sound from inside as the door swung open.

"were you asleep babe?" you laughed at her semi disheveled state, the older girl shrugging wordlessly as you stepped past her and made your way inside, more than comfortable in her place as she was in yours.

you didn't pick up on her mood right away, busying yourself changing into one of her hoodies as alexia settled herself on the lounge where she'd been prior to your arrival, already showered and changed herself.

"hola mi vida." you started to sense maybe something was off when you leant in for a kiss and your lips met her cheek, blanked as she tucked her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms, the closed off body language another tell tale sign of her bad mood.

trying to just chalk it up to tiredness post game you didn't mention anything, the taller girl fixated on a football match on the tv as you decided to make the two of you something to eat.

you glanced over to her every now and then, frown deepening when it seemed as if she barely noticed you were there.

normally alexia was all over you, especially after you'd played well, even if it was just as simple as the way she'd stick tightly to your back as you cooked.

but her arms never snuck around your waist, chin never rested on the top of your head, her lips never gently peppered your neck with soft kisses and so you began to wonder if perhaps you'd done something to upset her.

you tried to engage her in conversation but only receiving singular words or hums in response you abandoned that quickly. now quite certain she was upset about something whether it be with you or not.

almost finished cooking you wracked your brain for what you could have done to cause this, but even with all of your might you couldn't come up with anything.

the blonde had been fine with you prior to the game and at half time, stern captains persona dwindling for a moment as she mumbled into your hair how well you were playing and sneakily kissed you when it seemed no one was looking.

but now when it was her who could barely glance at you for more than a few seconds, everything suddenly felt very different.

dishing up two bowls you quickly rinsed things and left them in the sink to be washed later. despite the large dining room table in the middle of alexia's living room you don't think the two of you had eaten on it enough times for you to need two hands to count.

so handing her the bowl, a quiet thank you mumbled as again her eyes remained on the tv you settled in beside her, leaving a gap between the two of you which felt like it was miles long despite it really only being a few centimetres.

the two of you ate in silence, alexia finishing first as her bowl was placed on the coffee table as yours soon joined and you decided to address your worries.

"ale." you started softly, gently nudging her thigh with your knee as she hummed but otherwise remained quiet. "is something wrong baby?" you asked cautiously, a shake of her head all you got in return.

"okay. because it seems like you're upset about something and if i've done anything can we please talk about it?" you requested, messing about with your fingers in your lap. "i am not upset amor." alexia replied quietly and your tension melted a tiny bit hearing the nickname but still she would not meet your eye.

you accepted her words at first, grabbing your bowls and heading back to the kitchen to wash up. once again most times you even tried your girlfriend was there in a second, lifting you up to sit on the counter and refusing to let you help.

but just like when you cooked she remained on the sofa engrossed in the football, only getting up to use the bathroom as you finished and returned by her side.

the alarm bells sounded once more when you grabbed her arm and tried to tuck into her side. the blonde gently pushed you back, mumbling about wanting a little space in spanish making you frown.

"alexia." you sighed, patience wearing thin as she hummed. "alexia!" you spoke a lot firmer now, standing to move and block her eyeline toward the tv with a frown.

"mi amor i can tell you are upset. please stop being so stubborn and tell me whats wrong so we can talk about it!" you ordered, crossing your arms and shuffling side to side as she tried to crane her neck to see past you.

"alexia!" you groaned at the silence that followed, the blonde stretching out down the sofa with a shrug, hands folded behind her head. "why are you being like this?" you asked again, tone softening a little as the insecurity started to creep through that you'd done something.

"i am not being like anything." "exactly! you're ignoring me, you're being moody-" "you did not seem to care when you were with her."

it was mumbled so quietly you almost missed it, but you didn't and then suddenly everything made sense, blocks falling into place as your worries melted away and a smile curled onto your lips.

"oh my god. you're jealous!" you laughed, which was probably the wrong response as your girlfriend gave you a glare and halfheartedly kicked you, ordering you to move out of her way as she was missing the game.

"ale, angel." you started, wrenching her arms away from where they were crossed tightly over her chest, settling your body on top of her. "why are you jealous mm?" you smiled, hands falling to clasp her cheeks, turning her head and forcing her to look at you.

"who was that girl? the one you hugged for a very long time." alexia countered with a question of her own, hands moving to grip your hips. "my other girlfriend." you answered casually, alexias fingers digging into the soft skin of your sides warning you against teasing.

"dios mio ale. that was my best friend, rosie. the one who is always travelling! she is on her way to portugal with her fiance and dropped in to see me." you smiled, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of her jawline.

only receiving a hum in response you rolled your eyes, growing tired of her moody behavior. "how many times-" you dipped your head and placed a kiss to the collumn of her throat. "-do i have to assure you-" the next ones were either side of her neck.

"-that the only person i have eyes for-" now a kiss just beneath her ear, teeth tugging teasingly at the lobe. "-is you." you kissed her nose, smiling softly.

"you are not the problem, it is other people i do not trust."

"you think my best friend is going to pull a move on me? mi vida i know you are a jealous woman but that is something else." you grinned, alexia's frown melting into a slight pout as she huffed.

"not what i meant!" "no but you are being moody for no reason."

"you know i scored all those goals for you today baby, nobody else." you mumbled, kissing all over her face and purposefully avoiding her lips as her pout grew a little with each one.

"you missed." alexia demanded, her own hands now moving to grab your face halting the treasure map your lips were creating along her skin. "oh lo siento mi amor." you nodded understandingly, leaning in as if to kiss her but moving so your lips pressed against her temple.

"hey!" alexia exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing making you grin. "i love you, only you. silly stubborn jealous idiot!" you teased, pecking her lips repeatedly in between each word.

"next time, talk to me amor. don't just be a big moody baby!" you cooed pinching her cheeks, squealing as suddenly you were beneath her, the older girl effortlessly swapping your positions now hovering over you.

"mi amor, mi vida, mi novia, mi corazón-" alexia pressed her lips against yours after each word, clearly making a point as her legs tangled with yours and her fingers interlocked pinning your hands either side of your head.

"-mi cariño, mi niña bonita, mi preciosa, mine." alexia rasped, finally kissing you properly as you shifted beneath her, her tongue slipping in and filthily roaming your mouth as you withheld the urge to moan.

the catalan pulling away both of your chests heaved and her thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging on it slightly as her soft hazel eyes roamed over every single inch of your face.

"mine." she whispered again, kissing you gently and letting go of your hands. her own slipping up the inside of your top you sighed contently, lips moving to your neck as her nose knocked against your jaw encouraging your head turn to give her more access.

"now bebita i think i have some goals to reward you for, no?"