#but when I speed up the pace I run into the problem of having to wait until the last polls are done before I start the new ones | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ts19009 · 1 month ago

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A Recipe for Us I Part 1 | KMG

pairing: kim mingyu x reader/oc genre: angst, fluff, smut, coworkers-to-lovers, mean!oc, soft!niceguy!gyu, chef's(oui oui) warnings: NO SMUT IN THIS PART!! explicit unprotected sex, sexual innuendos, oral sex (female receiving), etc. words: 22,426

summary: When Mingyu joins the kitchen staff at one of the city's most esteemed restaurants, he expects long hours, high expectations, and the thrill of doing what he loves. What he doesn't expect is Y/N L/N—sharp, efficient, and utterly uninterested in small talk. Where Mingyu is warm and expressive, Y/N is all business, focused solely on keeping everything running smoothly. Their personalities clash from the start, but as they navigate the pressures of the restaurant world, unexpected challenges force them to rely on each other in ways neither anticipated. Slowly, between late-night shifts and shared moments in the chaos of the kitchen, they begin to see each other differently. But with ambition, personal struggles, and unspoken fears standing in the way, will they learn to meet in the middle, or will their differences keep them apart?

The scent of seared butter and fresh herbs clung to the air, you could smell the delicious food from about a block away, but all Mingyu focused on was not messing up on his first day at his new job in a fancy New York restaurant. He had memorized the entire menu the night before, even down to the plating of each dish, but looking at the demo that one of his co-workers was doing for him, he couldn’t remember a single thing he prepared.

“Do you have any questions?” his co-worker asked.

Mingyu glanced at his name tag, Joshua, before shaking his head. “No, I understand. Thanks Joshua.”

Joshua nodded and stepped aside for him to take his spot in the kitchen. “Alright then, we open in a little under an hour. So if you want to start with some prep before the dinner rush, that's what the big boss advises,”

Mingyu glanced at the clock. 4:15. The restaurant opens at five. Forty-five minutes to get his shit together.

Without wasting time, he grabbed a rag and started wiping down the counters he’d be using, then moved on to cleaning a few used pans he knew he’d need. He had just started organizing his station when the sound of heels clicking against the tile caught his attention.

"You're in my way."

The voice was sharp, cool, and to the point. Mingyu turned, wiping his hands on his apron as he came face to face with a woman who looked just as sharp as her tone—dark brown hair pulled back, eyes scanning him like he was already a problem.

Joshua, seemingly unfazed, smirked as he stepped past them. "Ah, right. Mingyu, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Mingyu—our new chef."

Y/N didn’t acknowledge the introduction, her focus locked on Mingyu as she crossed her arms. "If you're done scrubbing, move. I need that counter."

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes as she set down the ingredients she had been carrying. Without hesitation, she got to work—peeling, chopping, and moving with practiced efficiency. Mingyu lingered for a moment, watching the way her hands moved swiftly, like she had done this a thousand times before.

"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you actually going to work?" she asked, not even looking up as she sliced through a carrot.

Mingyu snapped out of his daze, clearing his throat as he turned back to his station. Alright then. Game on.

Mingyu exhaled sharply, rolling back his shoulders before grabbing a knife. "Relax, I was just admiring the technique," he said, setting a cutting board in place. "Didn’t realize speed-chopping was a personality trait."

Y/N scoffed and reached over him to grab another carrot. "Not a personality trait, but the art of chopping is something you lose if you don’t practice."

Mingyu arched his brow but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed a carrot from her pile and started slicing, matching her pace. The steady rhythm of their knives hitting the cutting boards filled the space between them—sharp, precise, and unspoken competition hanging in the air.

Y/N barely spared him a glance. "Try to keep up."

Mingyu smirked, the challenge lighting something in his chest. "I was about to say the same to you."

Y/N let out a small huff, but her hands didn’t falter, slicing through the vegetables with effortless precision. "Confidence is cute," she muttered, eyes focused on her cutting board, "but we’ll see if you can still keep up when the real rush starts."

As the rest of the hour flew by, the only sound between them was the rhythmic chopping of knives against wood, neither of them speaking a word. They were so focused on outdoing the other that when the restaurant finally opened to the public, neither of them had noticed.

"Shit," Y/N muttered, reaching for another carrot, only to realize they had sliced every last one. Her eyes darted up to the clock, and she cursed again. 5:10.Y/N grabbed her bowl of carrots without sparing another glance at Mingyu and briskly made her way to a different work station, the sharp click of her shoes echoing as she moved. Mingyu watched her go, feeling the sudden shift in the air, and for a moment, he stood there, alone. The kitchen buzzed with activity as the dinner rush kicked in, but Mingyu was left with his station and the pile of dishes he had yet to start.

He exhaled, shaking off the moment. "Guess it’s just me, then."

“How was your first day?” Wonwoo, Mingyu’s roommate, asked glancing over at Mingyu as they settled into the couch, the familiar opening credits of Breaking Bad starting to play. It was a tradition they had almost every night—something to unwind after a long day.

“Long,” Mingyu sighed, “very long. But I didn’t mess anything up so that’s good.” Wonwoo chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.

“Did you make any friends at all? You’re pretty charismatic.”

Mingyu nodded, “yeah. The guy who gave me the demo, Joshua, is pretty cool. We talked a bit after work,” He paused, the image of Y/N still fresh in his mind. He wondered if he should bring up his interaction with her, but something held him back.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the hesitation. "And?"

Mingyu shrugged, “there is this one woman…. Y/N.” He hesitates again. “She’s pretty intense. Pushed me away from my workstation, can chop things at the speed of light, just gives off this standoffish energy. Doesn’t really give you the time of day unless you're doing something right.”

“Sounds like she’s your match in the kitchen though,” Wonwoo pointed out, “you’ve always been the fastest in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, but I’m not an asshole in the kitchen,” Mingyu paused, realizing how harsh that sounded. “Sorry. I think I’m just tired and worked up.”

Wonwoo shrugged, used to Mingyu’s mood swings. “No problem, first day’s are always rough. You’ll figure it out,” he smiled, giving Mingyu another pat on the back. As the rest of the night went by, Mingyu tried to focus on the show, but he couldn’t help but feel bothered about what Wonwoo had said.

It was true—Mingyu was a little intimidated by you. The way you moved in the kitchen, so confident and precise, made him feel like he was still figuring things out, even though he had years of experience. And if he was being honest with himself, he was upset that he wasn’t the best chef in the kitchen anymore. He’d always prided himself on his speed and skill, but today, it felt like someone else had taken that spot.

After the show ended, Wonwoo stretched and stood up, claiming he had to wake up early in the morning. But Mingyu knew better. He shot him a look, watching as Wonwoo grabbed his phone. "You're not fooling anyone," Mingyu teased.

Wonwoo flashed him a grin. "I’ll be up for a while. You know, video games and all."

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. "Goodnight, man."

With a sigh, he leaned back on the couch, his mind replaying the day’s events—mostly thoughts of you. He wasn’t sure what had drawn him to you, or why it bothered him so much that you didn’t seem to care about him at all, but he couldn’t help feeling like there was more to this rivalry than just speed in the kitchen.

Mingyu made his way to their kitchen and got out a knife, cutting board and a bag of carrots.

“Alright, let’s see if I can keep up.” Mingyu muttered to himself as he grabbed his knife and started cutting. Carrots, potatoes, cucumbers, tomatoes—almost every piece of produce they had in the kitchen found its way onto his cutting board. He chopped tirelessly, his focus narrowing down to just the rhythm of the knife hitting the cutting board, the sound of the blade slicing through the vegetables, and the steady pace he forced himself to maintain.

For hours, he worked in silence, his hands moving automatically, each slice more precise than the last. He wasn’t satisfied with anything less than perfection, and if his performance faltered for even a second, he would stop, reset, and start again. There was no room for hesitation—only improvement.

The pile of chopped vegetables grew, his pace quickening with each repetition, and the sting in his shoulders from the constant motion started to fade as his body adjusted to the rhythm.

By the time he cut his last carrot, the kitchen was eerily quiet, and the only light left was the faint glow of the refrigerator. His hands ached, his eyes were heavy, and the exhaustion was starting to settle in like a weight he couldn’t shake. He glanced at the clock—2:57 AM.

A tired laugh escaped him as he leaned back against the counter, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He had spent hours cutting, trying to reach that elusive perfect rhythm, and now he was paying for it.

"Great. I’ve got, what, four hours of sleep before the next shift?"

His mind drifted to the job waiting for him at the bar, where he would have to juggle drinks, manage customers, and keep his energy up. He had always worked hard, but today felt different. He could still hear the steady chopping in his head, still see the focused look on Y/N’s face as she moved through the kitchen, and somehow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had something to prove.

With a grunt, Mingyu cleaned up, packing away the vegetables and wiping down the counter. He dragged his feet to the couch, collapsing into it. But as he closed his eyes, a small smile tugged at his lips. Despite the exhaustion, he had never felt more driven.

He was going to make her like him—or, if not like him, then at least respect him.

His last thought before sleep claimed him was the idea of earning that respect—the kind of respect that could only come from someone who had no patience for mediocrity. He wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to do it, but he’d find a way.

“Can you do the beef wellington tonight?” Joshua asked Mingyu, rushing into the kitchen, still tying his apron around his waist. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by a slight panic.

“Yeah, is Jeonghan not here?” Mingyu asked, noticing Joshua’s flustered state and the way he quickly moved around the kitchen, trying to get organized.

“Yeah, he called in sick about twenty minutes ago. We’re gonna be a little short tonight.” Joshua’s voice was tight with urgency.

Mingyu took a deep breath, glancing at the clock. The dinner rush was about to hit, and now he had two dishes to manage. “Got it. I’ll take care of the Wellington.”

Y/N entered the kitchen just as Joshua rushed off, her expression unreadable but her eyes scanning the space. Mingyu was already moving to his station, pulling out the beef, puff pastry, and mushrooms, his mind shifting gears as he mentally prepared for the complexity of the dish. The fish and chips were straightforward, but the Wellington demanded his full attention.

“What’s going on?” Y/N’s voice was low, but there was a sharpness in it, like she was trying to figure out what chaos she was about to walk into.

Mingyu glanced at her, hands already moving. “Jeonghan called in sick. I’m taking over the Wellington.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to the beef Wellington station, then back to him. “You sure you can handle both? The fish and chips and that?” Her tone wasn’t dismissive, but there was something almost like a challenge in it.

Mingyu smirked, a flicker of competition lighting up in his chest. “I can handle it. You got your hands full with your station?”

Y/N's lips quirked, but her expression remained cool. “I’m fine. Just don’t mess up the Wellington, Mingyu.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice, but also an edge of seriousness.

She moved to her station, but Mingyu could feel her eyes on him for a moment longer, studying his movements. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in his abilities—it was more like she was waiting for him to slip up, to show that he couldn’t juggle both tasks.

Mingyu tightened his grip on the knife, taking a deep breath. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

As the night went on, Y/N kept a close eye on Mingyu, her sharp gaze never straying too far from his station. But Mingyu, busy juggling both the fish and chips and the delicate beef Wellington, barely had a moment to even glance at her. He was on his feet the entire night, moving from one task to the next without pause, and by the time the dinner rush had come to an end, the adrenaline faded, and the weight of the shift hit him. He was sweaty, exhausted, and his apron was soaked through, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction of the work.

"Wow, Mingyu," Y/N said, walking over to him as she handed him a cloth to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. Her face was as neutral as ever, no smile, but the praise in her voice didn’t go unnoticed. "You did well tonight."

Mingyu let out a long sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping for the first time all night. He accepted the towel with a small smile, the weight of the night beginning to settle into his bones. "Thanks. Do I sound crazy if I say that I kind of love the rush?"

Y/N didn’t answer immediately, her gaze softening just slightly. She looked out across the kitchen for a moment, then met his eyes again. "No," she said, a small glimmer of something that might’ve been a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I love the rush too. It’s good to know someone else also loves the dinner rush instead of hiding out in the storage room."

Mingyu chuckled at that, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "I mean, I can see how hiding out might be tempting. But it feels like the heart of the kitchen, y’know?"

Y/N’s lips twitched, and for a brief second, Mingyu thought she might actually smile. But instead, she just nodded, her demeanor still calm and collected. "Exactly. We don’t get much time to breathe, but that’s what makes it worth it."

He was about to respond when Joshua popped in to check on the team, but as the night wound down and the kitchen started to clear, Mingyu realized that he was genuinely glad he had this moment with her. Not just for the work, but for the unspoken understanding between them.

There was still a lot to prove, but tonight, he felt like he might be on the right path.

Mingyu’s body was tired. Between working until ten at night in the kitchen, practicing his cooking on the side, and bartending during the day, he was walking a fine line. His mind buzzed with the constant juggling of responsibilities, and his muscles ached in ways he couldn’t ignore.

He had picked up his bartending job about a year ago, just when he was still searching for a restaurant job that would let him show what he was truly capable of. The bartending gig paid well enough to cover his rent and basic expenses, but it wasn’t where his heart was. It wasn’t what he loved.

The clink of glasses, the long hours of standing behind a bar, and the repetitive motions of pouring drinks didn’t compare to the thrill he felt when he was in the kitchen, crafting dishes, creating something with his hands. The passion he felt for food was undeniable.

He hadn’t quit his bartending job yet, though. There was a level of security it provided, and even though it wasn’t his dream, it kept him afloat while he tried to make a name for himself in the restaurant world. Still, with every shift that passed, his desire to leave it behind grew stronger. His dream was never meant to be behind a bar—it was in a kitchen, where he could cook the way he wanted to, push himself further, and truly focus on his craft.

But the reality of bills and rent loomed large. And though he kept telling himself that someday he’d take the plunge and quit, it felt like it might take longer than he’d like.

So the last thing Mingyu had expected was for Y/N to come and sit down in front of him at his bartending job.

“Y/N?” He asked, pausing his current task of cleaning glasses. His mind was still trying to wrap around the idea that Y/N, the woman who he had spent hours working with in the kitchen, was now sitting in front of him at the bar.

“A dirty martini, please,” Y/N said, her voice sounding a little more tired than usual as she sighed, throwing her purse onto the bar and wrapping her coat tighter around herself. Mingyu glanced around the bar, briefly checking to see if she was with anyone else, but it was just the two of you. His confusion deepened, and he looked back at her, still not sure why she was here.

“Hello? Mingyu?” She said again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Mingyu blinked, clearing his throat as he quickly moved to prepare the drink. “Sorry. Didn’t expect you to—uh—be here,” he stammered, grabbing a glass and starting the martini with practiced motions. He didn’t want to admit how strange it felt, seeing herhere, in this setting. The last place he expected to run into her was at a bar, especially after spending hours with her in the kitchen.

As he poured the gin and vermouth, he glanced up at her again, still trying to piece together why her, of all people, would end up here, at his bartending job of all places. “

“Are you alright?” Mingyu asked, placing the glass in front of her with a cautious glance. His brow furrowed as he studied her for a moment, trying to figure out what brought her to his bar, but also noticing something different in the way she was sitting. She didn’t seem like your usual confident, work-oriented self.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she picked up the glass and took a long, deliberate sip of her martini, the silence between the two of them growing heavier with each passing second.

Mingyu waited, his fingers drumming softly on the bar, as he tried to gauge her mood. He knew she was usually reserved, but tonight, she seemed... distant. Not the usual standoffish energy, but something else. Something more subdued.

He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “Y/N? What’s going on?” He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to ask, but seeing you like this—quiet, contemplative, and not the usual sharp-witted version of yourself—stirred something in him.

She sighed, putting down her drink with a frustrated motion. "I just found out that Joshua got the promotion at the restaurant." You almost hissed the words, your irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it, I just... I thought I was going to get it."

Mingyu winced, understanding exactly what she were feeling. He had been in her shoes before—putting in the hours, the effort, only to watch someone else get the recognition you felt you earned. He couldn’t help but offer her a little smile, even if he didn’t have the right words to make it better.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice sincere.

She scoffed, running a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated with herself. “I sound like a bitch,” she muttered, looking down at her drink as if it could provide some kind of answer.

Mingyu shook his head gently, leaning against the bar. “No, you don’t.” He paused for a second before continuing, his tone calm but firm. “You’re just frustrated. It’s normal to feel that way.”

There was a brief silence between the two of them, the kind that felt a little more comfortable than it should. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the way she was wrestling with her pride and the disappointment. He wasn’t sure why she was opening up to him of all people, but in a strange way, it felt right.

“In my defense, I didn’t know you worked here during the day,” she shrugged, “thanks for the drink.” She said, reaching into her bag for a bill.

“It’s okay, it’s on the house,” Mingyu interrupted.

“I don’t want you to pity me Mingyu,” she said, as Mingyu held up his hands in defense.

“No pity here. Everyone deserves a free drink now and then,” he smiled as she sighed and nodded. Sliding off the seat and grabbing her purse.

“Thank you,” she smiled for the first time, “see you tonight.”

Mingyu watched as Y/N disappeared through the door, the faintest trace of her smile still lingering in his mind. He glanced down at the twenty-dollar bill in his tip jar and huffed out a quiet laugh. "Figures."

She was stubborn, that much was clear. But for the first time, he saw something past the sharp edges—just a glimpse.

Shaking his head, he tucked the bill away and got back to work, but the night suddenly felt a little less exhausting.

“So do you like her?” Wonwoo asked Mingyu as they both sat down to start their show. Mingyu sighed, but neither confirmed nor denied having feelings for you. Wonwoo gasped and hit Mingyu on the shoulder, “dude it’s been like a week!”

Mingyu rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to profess my love for her on the side of the streets if that’s what you mean, but yeah, I like our banter.”

Wonwoo chuckled and shrugged, “I mean, I get it.”

“You do?” Mingyu raised an eyebrow, glancing at his friend.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said, stretching his legs out on the couch. “She’s got that whole ‘mysterious, intimidating, secretly cool’ vibe going on. And you? You love a challenge.”

Mingyu scoffed, sinking deeper into the cushions. “I don’t love a challenge.”

Wonwoo shot him a knowing look.

Mingyu groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”

Wonwoo chuckled, “When was the last time you were in an actual long-term relationship? Sophomore year of college with that girl, Lily?”

Mingyu nodded, exhaling through his nose. Lily had been in his fine arts program. They’d spent most of their freshman year taking the same classes, bonding over late-night study sessions and cheap takeout. They had only dated for their sophomore summer and about half of the next semester before Mingyu ended it. It had been easy, comfortable—but it wasn’t love, and he knew that. Still, it was the last official relationship he’d had since.

“That was, what, four years ago?” Wonwoo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Man, you’re overdue.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a relationship. I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, busy avoiding anything serious,” Wonwoo teased, tossing a pillow at him. “Come on, man. You’re all about work, and now there’s finally someone who can match you step for step in the kitchen. Tell me that doesn’t get to you.”

Mingyu scoffed, catching the pillow and tossing it aside. “It doesn’t.”

Wonwoo gave him a knowing look. “Right. That’s why you’ve been practicing your chopping like a madman and overanalyzing every single interaction you have with her. All I’m saying is that you’re different and that maybe you're ready for a relationship instead of the flings and hookups you're notorious for.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue but hesitated. Because, as much as he hated to admit it… Wonwoo wasn’t wrong.

Mingyu arrived at the restaurant early, telling himself it was just to get a head start. It definitely wasn’t because he was hoping to see Y/N before the rush started.

To his surprise, she was already there, standing by the prep station, sleeves rolled up as she sliced through a pile of onions with effortless speed. The kitchen was quieter than usual, just the steady rhythm of her knife hitting the cutting board.

“You always get here this early?” Mingyu asked, setting his bag down.

“Someone has to make sure things are done right,” Y/N said without looking up. “And you? I figured you’d be getting your last few minutes of beauty sleep.”

Mingyu smirked. “Didn’t sleep much.”

At that, she finally glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “Thinking about me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I spent all night dreaming about your knife skills.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll learn something,” she said, smirking slightly before returning to her work.

Despite the banter, Mingyu could tell she was still tense. He wasn’t sure if it was about last night or if the promotion news was still weighing on her. Either way, she was working harder than usual, her movements precise but a little too forceful, like she was trying to take out her frustration on the vegetables.

Mingyu grabbed a knife and stepped beside her. “Want some help?”

“I don’t need help.”

“Never said you did.”

She hesitated for just a second before sighing and nudging a pile of carrots toward him. “Fine. Make yourself useful.”

They worked in silence for a while, their knives moving in sync. The tension in Y/N’s shoulders slowly eased, and Mingyu found himself watching her—just little things, like the way she chewed on her lip when she concentrated or the way she always wiped her hands on her apron twice before moving to the next task.

After a while, he finally spoke. “You know, you don’t have to pretend you’re over it.”

Y/N froze for just a fraction of a second before continuing. “Over what?”

“The promotion.”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t have time to sulk about things I can’t change.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then, finally, she sighed. “Yeah. It does.”

Mingyu glanced at her, watching the way her fingers tensed around the knife handle. “You should’ve gotten it.”

Y/N looked up at him then, studying him like she was trying to figure out if he really meant it. After a beat, she exhaled. “Thanks.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And for the first time since he started working here, Mingyu felt like maybe—just maybe—he was starting to figure Y/N out.

The rest of the night passed in a quiet sort of tension. The dinner rush was relentless, and with Jeonghan still out sick, Mingyu had to keep up with both his stations. Yet, for the first time since he started, Y/N didn’t look at him like she was ready to snap. There was something different in her gaze—less guarded, maybe even a little approving. He couldn’t quite place it, but it was a shift he appreciated.

They didn’t speak much, both of them fully absorbed in their work, the rhythm of the kitchen humming around them. But every so often, their eyes would meet, and in those brief moments, there was a quiet understanding. No words needed.

As the end of the night came and all the customers had left it was just Joshua, Mingyu, and Y/N.

“Hey Y/N?” Joshua asked, causing Mingyu to lift his head from his station. He wasn’t sure how this interaction was going to go, especially in your state.

“I know that we were both up for the promotion and I just wanted to say that I’m glad that it was you. You really gave me a run for my money.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered, her expression unreadable for a moment. It was a sentiment she hadn’t been expecting, especially not from him. After all, she had been the one who lost out.

“Thanks,” she said, her tone steady but with a hint of something Mingyu couldn’t quite place. As Joshua made his exit, giving them both a polite wave, the silence in the kitchen grew heavier. Y/N finished tidying up her station with mechanical precision, the hum of the restaurant's closing rituals surrounding them. Mingyu stood nearby, cleaning his own area, but his attention kept flickering toward her, unsure of whether to break the silence or not.

He wanted to say something—anything—but he wasn’t sure what would be appropriate. He had seen a side of Y/N that was rare, something raw and unfiltered, and it made him hesitate. He didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing, especially when it felt like she had just let her guard down.

After a long, quiet moment, Mingyu finally spoke up, keeping his voice light. “You know, you handled that pretty well,” he said, his words tentative. “Not everyone would be that gracious.”

Y/N glanced at him for a brief second, her face unreadable. She didn't respond right away, her hands moving with practiced ease as she wiped down the counters.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat things,” she finally said, her voice a little softer. “I was pissed at first. But… I’m not gonna drag it out. I’m just trying to figure out how to move forward.”

Mingyu nodded, understanding that it wasn’t just about the promotion—it was about what came with it. The expectations, the disappointments, the constant push to be better.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he added, offering a small grin, “you’re still the fastest chopper I know.”

Y/N’s lips twitched at that, a hint of a smile forming before she quickly wiped it away. “Thanks, Mingyu,” she said quietly, the tension between them starting to dissolve, even if only for a moment.

The two of them continued cleaning in silence, but now, there was an unspoken understanding that lingered, one that felt like it could lead to something better.

As they finished up cleaning the last of the kitchen, Y/N hesitated for a moment, wiping down the counter slowly. She glanced at Mingyu, who was putting away his station. The lingering silence between them felt different now, less heavy.

"Hey, Mingyu," she said, her voice just a little uncertain. "You want to grab a drink or something? I know you’re probably exhausted, but I could use a drink after tonight. And maybe... I don’t know, just a break from all the chaos." She raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the invitation casual but sincere.

Mingyu paused, surprised by the offer. He’d been expecting another quiet night, but something about the way she said it made him feel like this was more than just a casual invitation.

"Uh, sure," he replied, surprised at how easy it was to say yes. "I could use one too." He flashed her a small smile. "Let’s go."

Y/N nodded, her face softening as she grabbed her bag and slipped her apron off. "Alright, let's go," she said, leading the way out of the kitchen and toward the door. "It’s been one of those nights, right?"

Mingyu laughed softly as he followed her out, a feeling of unexpected relief settling over him. "You have no idea."

Mingyu glanced at her and smirked. “Cold?”

Y/N shot him a look, tugging her coat tighter around herself. “No, I always walk like I’m trying to survive a snowstorm.”

He chuckled, pushing open the door to the bar and letting her step in first. The warmth inside was immediate, the low hum of music and chatter making the space feel cozy.

“You pick the spot,” Mingyu said, nodding toward the booths near the back.

Y/N scanned the room before leading the way. “Since when are you so agreeable?”

Mingyu grinned as he followed. “Since I somehow managed to get you to willingly spend more time with me.

”She let out a small scoff, tugging her coat tighter around herself to hide the slight blush creeping up her cheeks. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she muttered, but there was no real bite to her words.

As they reached the far end of the bar, Mingyu leaned against the counter and flagged down the bartender, a playful glint in his eyes. “Two surprise drinks, please,” he said confidently, flashing a grin in Y/N’s direction. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest, curiosity flickering across her face as she settled onto a stool.

“Are you trying to poison me to take my spot in Mingyu?” Mingyu chuckled, and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“How did you figure it out?” He joked back. Mingyu’s eyes softened as he met her gaze, the playful tension between the two hanging in the air. He wasn’t much taller than her, but enough for her to tilt her head back slightly to meet his gaze. For a moment, the two of them stood there, words unsaid, the atmosphere between them was a mix of amusement and something else she couldn’t quite place.

The bartender interrupted the quiet pause, sliding two drinks across the counter. “On the house,” they said, flashing a quick smile.

She glanced at the drink, then back up at Mingyu. “If this is terrible, I’m blaming you.”

Mingyu raised his glass with a grin. “Fair enough. Cheers?”

“Cheers.” She said, as they both took a sip of the drink. It was a sweet raspberry drink, but the vodka was still prominent. “Wow,” you coughed, “did you give me raspberry battery acid?”

Mingyu smiled, but didn’t cough. “No, it’s just a vodka cranberry.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise but took another sip of her drink. A comfortable silence settled between them as they sipped their drinks, the low hum of conversation fading into the background. Onstage, a jazz band began setting up, the soft tuning of instruments signaling the start of their performance.

Y/N swirled the last sip of her drink in her glass, tapping her fingers lightly against the counter as the band settled into their first song.

Mingyu’s gaze flickered between the band and Y/N’s fingers tapping lightly against the counter, occasionally drifting up to her face. It was almost unsettling to see her this at ease—so different from the sharp, focused version of her he was used to at work.

“Something on my face?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Mingyu shook his head with a small smile. “No, just not used to seeing you this relaxed.”

Y/N shrugged, idly running her finger along the rim of her glass. “Guess there’s nothing to prove here. I can just… exist.”

Mingyu understood, but it struck him how different that was from his own experience. The kitchen was where he felt most like himself, where everything made sense. He nodded but kept that thought to himself.

Before he could say anything else his phone started ringing in his pocket.

It was Wonwoo.

He turned away from the band to answer the call, “Hello? Wonwoo? What’s up?”

“Are you coming home at all tonight? We left our show off on a cliffhanger?” Wonwoo said through the phone as Mingyu scoffed.

“You had to phone me to ask that question?”

"Yes, because you weren't answering my texts," Wonwoo shot back. "And I need to know if I should wait for you or not."

Mingyu rolled his eyes, glancing at Y/N, who was now watching him with mild amusement as she sipped her drink. “I’ll be home later,” he said. “Don’t watch without me.”

“No promises,” Wonwoo teased before hanging up.

Mingyu sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Roommate problems,” he explained, shaking his head.

Y/N smirked. “You guys sound like an old married couple.”

Mingyu chuckled and nodded, turning back to her, “we’ve been best friends since the beginning of high school. Ten years of friendship can do that to you.”

Y/N hummed in understanding, swirling the last bit of her drink in her glass. “That’s impressive. Not everyone keeps their high school friends that long.”

Mingyu shrugged. “Yeah, but Wonwoo’s basically family at this point. We’ve been through a lot together.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment. “You’re loyal.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow at the comment. “Is that surprising?”

Y/N smirked slightly. “A little. You don’t really strike me as the sentimental type.”

Mingyu arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. Had she really been thinking about him?

“Oh yeah? And what do I seem like to you?”

Y/N set her drink down on the bar and straightened up, locking eyes with him. “You look like the guy who had a million friends in high school but couldn’t remember half of their names. You look like the type who’d talk to anyone, but never let anyone get too close.”

Mingyu tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lips quirking up. She wasn’t exactly wrong, but it wasn’t entirely right either. He wasn’t one to keep people at arm’s length, not really. There was more to him than the surface she saw.

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, his gaze lingering on her. “I can see where you’re coming from,” he admitted, “but I’m not exactly the ‘million friends, no real connections’ type.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, “I’m more of the ‘few close ones’ kind of guy.”

He studied her expression, wondering if she was getting what he meant. There was a kind of comfort in that, he thought—the idea of keeping a tight-knit circle, knowing the people around you well. Maybe that’s what made their banter so easy, even when they weren’t on the same page.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “So, you’re telling me you’ve got some deep, meaningful friendships hidden beneath that whole ‘cool guy’ facade?” she teased.

Mingyu smiled, his eyes softening slightly. "Maybe." He glanced at her, noticing the skepticism still in her expression.

"I guess I’ll have to prove it to you then," he added with a playful challenge.

With Jeonghan finally back from his week-long sick leave, Mingyu felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he returned to his usual rhythm at work. While fish and chips weren’t exactly the most exciting dishes to prepare day after day, they were comforting, and Mingyu had grown to enjoy the simplicity and routine of making them.

In the past week, Joshua had asked Mingyu to take on a few appetizers, adding more variety to his tasks and giving him something a little more dynamic to focus on. It wasn’t much, but it was a change, and Mingyu was glad for the extra responsibility.

As he moved between stations, his mind wandered back to the conversation he’d had with Y/N the other night—her words, her teasing, and the unexpected softness in her gaze. Mingyu tried to shake it off, but the thought lingered as he chopped vegetables and prepped the next order.

Mingyu was wiping down the counter when Y/N walked by, glancing over at him with a smirk. "You know," she said, "for someone who's always so confident in the kitchen, you sure do take your time with those potatoes."

Mingyu grinned, not missing a beat. "Quality takes time. You should try it sometime."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. "If I wanted to waste time, I'd let you chop for me."

Mingyu chuckled, but before he could respond, Chan burst into the kitchen, his eyes wide with surprise. “Chwe Vernon is here!” he exclaimed, causing everyone to freeze and look at him in stunned silence.

“Who is Chwe Vernon?” Mingyu asked.

"Only one of the most well-known food critics in New York City," Joshua said, his face full of panic. "I didn’t expect him to show up tonight when we're short-staffed."

"It’s fine,"she replied confidently. "We didn’t get to be one of the best by chance."

Joshua nodded, taking a deep breath. "Alright, let’s get back to it and give it our all!”

While everyone worked, the atmosphere was charged with tension, yet underscored by a strong sense of determination and confidence.

But, of course, Chwe Vernon had to order the fish and chips—the one dish Mingyu was in charge of.

“Shit,” Mingyu muttered under his breath as he glanced at the order. The entire kitchen was already on edge, and now, with the future of the restaurant seemingly riding on the “new guy,” he could feel the weight of the pressure.

“Do you need help?” Y/N’s voice cut through his daze, snapping him back to the present.

“Uh, no.” He said, moving around, “thanks though.”

Y/N nodded, but kept a close eye on Mingyu to make sure that if he was looking overwhelmed she could at least step in to take over the other dishes he was cooking. Mingyu moved swiftly around the kitchen, his movements precise but hurried, as if he could feel every second ticking away. His hands were steady, but his mind raced with the weight of the situation. He knew the fish and chips were his to handle, but the pressure of Vernon’s presence made him feel like he had to do everything perfectly.

Y/N kept her gaze on him, noticing the slight tension in his shoulders. She didn’t say anything, just continued working at her station, but kept an ear open for any sign that he might need help. She had worked with Mingyu long enough to know when he was approaching his limit, and she wasn’t about to let him sink under the pressure alone.

The sound of sizzling oil and clattering plates filled the air as the kitchen buzzed with energy, but beneath it all, there was a shared understanding: everyone was pulling their weight, and they weren’t about to let a critic ruin their night.

Mingyu glanced over at Y/N for a brief moment, catching her watching him, but the brief exchange of glances was enough to remind him he wasn’t alone. He exhaled and focused, moving faster, but with more purpose.

By the time the dish was ready, his nerves had settled slightly, the rhythm of the kitchen grounding him. “All set,” he said, plating the fish with a flourish. Y/N gave him a small nod, signaling her approval, and Mingyu took the dish to the pass, ready to serve.

As Chan took the fish and chips out, the kitchen paused for a moment, the usual clattering of pans and sizzling oil giving way to a brief, expectant silence. The dish was perfect—crispy golden fish paired with golden fries that looked like they came straight from a Michelin-star restaurant.

“Nice work, Mingyu,” Jihoon said, slapping him lightly on the back.

Jeonghan, ever the calm presence, gave him a satisfied nod. “You handled that like a pro.”

Joshua, still a bit jittery, couldn’t hide his relief. “Seriously, you saved us tonight.”

Mingyu smiled, though it was a little more exhausted than usual. "Just doing my part," he said, wiping his hands on his apron.

But Y/N's approval was what made him feel the most at ease. She gave him a quick, approving glance as she resumed her work. She didn’t need to say anything—her silence was enough.

As the evening continued, the energy in the kitchen remained high. The rest of the team kept their focus, but the tension had started to ease. Mingyu, now confident that he had proved himself in front of Vernon, let the compliment settle in his chest.

“So you basically could have caused the whole place to go belly up?” Wonwoo asked, as Mingyu chuckled and nodded, handing him the beer and a bag of gummy worms.

“Yep, but thankfully he wrote a really good review on it. Securing our spot as the best restaurant in New York city.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, popping a gummy worm into his mouth. "Well, damn. Good thing you pulled it off then." He took a sip of his beer and leaned back in his chair, clearly impressed. "So, what's next? Are you going to try to outdo yourself next time he shows up?"

Mingyu shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Maybe. But for now, I think I'll just enjoy the fact that we survived this one." He tossed a gummy worm into his mouth, savoring the sweet, tangy taste. "I'm not sure I want that kind of pressure again anytime soon."

Wonwoo laughed, clinking his bottle against Mingyu’s. "You say that now, but we both know you thrive in the chaos."

Mingyu leaned back against the couch, absentmindedly watching the show, but his mind kept drifting back to that moment in the kitchen. Y/N’s nod of approval, the way her eyes softened when she noticed he was managing the pressure. It had caught him off guard, in the best way.

He ran a hand through his hair, not realizing how much it had meant until now. He was used to working alone, used to being the one who had to prove himself, but when she looked at him like that, it felt different—like maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

"Focus, Mingyu," he muttered to himself, shaking his head and trying to return to the show. But every time he saw an empty space on the couch, or when the music swelled in a particularly tense scene, his thoughts would inevitably go back to her. He couldn’t remember the last time something—someone—had distracted him so much.

The episode continued, but his mind was far from the plot unfolding in front of him.

“Can you just make sure that this sauce doesn’t burn while I run out just for two minutes?” Y/N asked Mingyu as he nodded, but didn’t look up from his stove. She thanked him and ran out of the kitchen into the dining room, a big smile plastered on her face.

Mingyu finally looked up and out the kitchen window to see her approaching a man and giving him a big hug. He furrowed his brows, his hands still moving on autopilot as he stirred the sauce in front of him. He wasn’t sure why he even cared, but there was something about the way Y/N lit up when she saw the guy that caught his attention. She wasn’t usually the warm and affectionate type—not at work, at least.

He turned his focus back to the stove, but curiosity got the best of him, and he stole another glance through the window. The man was tall, well-dressed, and clearly familiar with Y/N. They exchanged a few words before she laughed, her smile not fading for even a second.

Mingyu exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at himself. Get a grip, he thought, forcing his attention back to his station.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder—who was he?

A few minutes later when she came back into the kitchen, with a big smile on her face, Mingyu turned away from her, but gave her a smile when she thanked him and continued stirring the sauce.

Something inside of him didn’t like seeing her with the guy.

Mingyu didn’t know why it bothered him. It wasn’t like Y/N owed him an explanation, and it definitely wasn’t his business who she hugged in the dining room. But something about the way she had smiled at that guy—so effortlessly, so brightly—nagged at him.

Mingyu hummed, keeping his eyes on the sauce. “Who was that?” he asked, aiming for casual, though the question sat heavier in his chest than he wanted to admit.

Y/N’s smile faltered just slightly as she reached for a cutting board. “Just someone I know,” she said, her tone even but noticeably more reserved.

Mingyu nodded, pretending to accept the answer, but the way she brushed past the question only made his curiosity—and that unfamiliar, nagging feeling—grow stronger.

“Can you take on one of my dishes tonight?” Y/N asked, glancing toward the dining room before quickly looking back at Mingyu. “I just need a little time to catch up with someone.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. “Yeah, I got it,” he said, adjusting his grip on the pan.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice quieter than usual, before slipping out of the kitchen again.

Mingyu watched her go, the uneasy feeling settling in his chest once more.His grip tightened around the spatula as he watched Y/N disappear into the dining room. His jaw clenched, irritation bubbling in his chest before he could push it down.

Of course, she wanted him to take over her dish. Of course, she needed a little extra time—for him.

He stirred the sauce a little too aggressively, barely registering the heat against his arm. It wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong, but the sight of her smiling like that, the way she’d dropped everything to rush out and greet the guy—it made something in his stomach twist uncomfortably.

It shouldn’t bother him. But it did.

Mingyu forced himself to focus on the dish in front of him, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N and the guy in the dining room. The way she’d smiled—soft, genuine—was different from the usual work-focused expression she wore in the kitchen. He had seen her smile before, sure, but not like that. Not at him.

He exhaled sharply, tossing a handful of herbs into the pan with a little too much force. It wasn’t like they were anything more than coworkers. It wasn’t like she owed him an explanation.

Still, when she finally walked back in, her expression more neutral than before, Mingyu kept his gaze locked on the stove, stirring just to keep his hands busy. The irritation hadn’t fully settled, but he wasn’t about to let it show. Not when he wasn’t even sure why he felt this way in the first place.

"Who pissed in your cereal?" Dino asked, grabbing the dish Mingyu had just finished preparing. He’d been watching him for a while and had noticed the shift in his mood—tense, brooding, more clipped than usual.

"Nothing," Mingyu shot back, barely looking up. "Just busy."

Dino rolled his eyes but didn’t push it, taking the dish out to the dining room without another word.

Across the kitchen, Jeonghan leaned against his station, arms crossed. "Is this about Y/N?" he asked, his tone casual but knowing. It was one of the first times they'd really spoken, but Jeonghan had clearly been paying attention.

Mingyu's jaw tightened as he kept his focus on the pan in front of him, the sizzle of oil filling the silence between them.

"Why would it be about Y/N?" he muttered, flicking his wrist to turn the fish, his movements a little sharper than necessary.

Jeonghan smirked, unbothered. "I don't know. Maybe because you've been scowling ever since she ran off to see her friend?" He dragged out the last word just enough to make his point clear.

Mingyu didn’t respond right away, just exhaled through his nose. "I don’t care what she does," he finally said, though even to his own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

"Right," Jeonghan hummed, clearly not buying it. "You should tell your face that, then."

Mingyu scoffed, shaking his head as he plated the dish in front of him. "Drop it, Jeonghan."

Jeonghan only chuckled, leaning against his station as he lazily chopped herbs. "Look, I get it," he said, his voice just low enough that no one else could hear. "You two have been getting along more lately, and now she's smiling like that at some other guy. Stings a little, doesn't it?"

Mingyu gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on the pan handle. "I said drop it."

Jeonghan shrugged, unfazed. "Fine, fine. Just don’t overcook the fish while you’re brooding."

Mingyu shot him a glare, but Jeonghan was already turning back to his own work, smirking to himself.

Still, the words stuck with him.

Because no matter how much he told himself it didn’t matter, that she didn’t matter—he couldn’t shake the image of her smile, the way she’d rushed out without a second thought, like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

And for some stupid reason, that bothered him way more than it should.

The kitchen had finally quieted down, the last orders sent out and the rush of service fading into the usual end-of-shift routine. Mingyu scrubbed down his station with more force than necessary, trying to work off the frustration still lingering in his chest.

He could hear Y/N laughing with Joshua near the back, their voices light and easy. He didn’t even have to look to know she was still in a good mood from earlier.

He should just go home. Clock out, grab his stuff, and pretend today never happened.

But instead, he found himself lingering, waiting for a reason to speak to her—or maybe just for her to acknowledge him first.

“Thanks for covering for me today,” Y/N called from across the kitchen.

Mingyu sighed before turning to face her, forcing a small smile.

“No problem,” he muttered.

Y/N exhaled, clearly picking up on his frustration.

“I know you’ve been wondering who he is.”

Mingyu froze for a moment. She wasn’t wrong—he did want to know.

Mingyu leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he stared at her. "I wasn’t exactly curious," he replied, his tone barely masking the irritation. "Just... surprised."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You sure about that?" She stepped closer, studying his expression with a knowing look.

Mingyu sighed, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "I don’t like feeling out of the loop." He tried to brush it off with a casual shrug. "It’s not a big deal."

She tilted her head, looking at him more closely. "You sure it’s not?"

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting back to his station as he refocused on his work. But there was a lingering tension in the air. "It’s just weird," he muttered. "You don’t usually bring people in like that."

Y/N stayed silent for a moment, clearly thinking through her response. Then she finally spoke, softer than before. "It’s complicated."

Mingyu glanced over at her, curiosity tugging at him despite himself. "Complicated how?" he asked, before quickly adding, "Never mind. It’s not my business."

She studied him for a moment, the weight of her silence speaking volumes. Then she nodded slowly. "Yeah. It’s better left at that."

There was a slight awkwardness between them, but neither pushed further. Mingyu returned to his work, his thoughts swirling, while Y/N lingered for a beat longer before heading back to her station. The conversation had ended, but the questions remained.

As Mingyu walked home, the cool night air did little to clear his head. He couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest—the guilt of pushing into Y/N’s business when he had no right to. He had let his own feelings get the better of him, and now he wondered if he had overstepped.

She hadn’t seemed angry, but the way she had shut down at the end of their conversation stuck with him. Maybe he should’ve just let it go instead of prying. Maybe it wasn’t about him at all.

With a sigh, he shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking, hoping that by the time he got home, the guilt would settle. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t.

As Y/N walked home, the night air felt heavier than usual. She wrapped her arms around herself, not from the cold, but from the lingering weight of her conversation with Mingyu.

She knew he had wanted to know who her friend was. She had seen the tension in his jaw, the way he barely met her eyes when he muttered, No problem. And yet, part of her had held back—not because she wanted to keep secrets, but because she wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him.

Did he think she owed him an explanation? Or was it something else?

Her thoughts twisted in circles, frustration creeping in. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but for some reason, guilt still tugged at her. Maybe it was because, despite everything, a part of her had wanted to reassure him. To tell him outright that there was nothing for him to be upset about.

But she hadn’t. Instead, she had let the silence stretch between them, unsure of what it meant.

She had felt guilty—though she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she had done anything wrong. She had every right to step away for a few minutes, to see an old friend, to ask for a little help. But the way Mingyu had reacted, the stiffness in his voice, the way he barely looked at her—it unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

Maybe it was because she had seen the flicker of something in his expression before he turned away. Disappointment? Annoyance? Jealousy? She didn’t know, and that uncertainty sat heavy in her chest.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she walked. If he had just asked, she wouldn’t have minded telling him. But he didn’t—he just pulled away, leaving an awkward tension lingering between them. Now, instead of settling whatever was left unsaid, they were both stuck in this uncomfortable silence, neither willing to be the first to break it.

It was another chaotic evening, and the kitchen buzzed with energy. Orders were flying in faster than they could be prepared, and the atmosphere was tense. Mingyu worked quickly, flipping the fish just right, his mind focused on the task at hand. He didn’t expect the night to be this busy, but he could feel the heat in the air as the orders kept coming in.

Just as he thought he had a handle on things, he saw Y/N near the counter, trying to juggle multiple orders at once. She looked at him with a quiet intensity, a subtle but unmistakable look of frustration in her eyes. Mingyu knew she hated showing that side of herself, especially during a rush, but it was clear she was feeling the pressure.

The air was thick with the sounds of sizzling pans, the clinking of plates, and the hurried chatter of the kitchen staff, but Mingyu’s attention was fixed on Y/N. For a split second, their eyes locked, and in that brief moment, something shifted. Without a word, she moved toward him.

“Can you cover the scallops for me while I take care of this?” Y/N’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of urgency underneath. She wasn’t asking, she was telling.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I’ve got it,” he said, his voice steady as he grabbed a pan to sear the delicate scallops. He gently placed them in the hot pan, the sizzle filling the air as the scallops started to brown on the outside.

Y/N didn’t need to explain further. She was already moving, her focus laser-sharp as she worked to keep up with the rest of the orders. Mingyu’s eyes followed her for a moment before he turned back to the stove. He carefully spooned the rich lemon herb butter sauce over the perfectly seared scallops and plated the dish with finesse. The mashed potatoes were smooth and creamy with a subtle hint of truffle, and the asparagus, delicately sautéed with almonds, added a perfect crunch.

As the orders came in, they found a rhythm together, an unspoken understanding between them. When Y/N needed him to grab a plate or set aside an ingredient, he did so without thinking. When Mingyu needed a hand with the finishing touches on the plate, Y/N was there, seamlessly working alongside him without a word of complaint.

For a brief moment, there was no tension between them. It was just the two of them, working together in the heat of the kitchen, and for the first time in days, Mingyu felt a flicker of something familiar—a connection. They had done this before, back when they were still learning the ropes together. But now, it was different. There was something in the way their movements aligned, in the way they read each other’s actions without needing to speak.

The orders slowed down, and the kitchen staff began to relax, each person taking a deep breath as the chaos began to settle. Mingyu wiped his brow, looking up to find Y/N already glancing in his direction. Her lips twitched in a small, appreciative smile.

“You did good,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Thanks for covering me.”

Mingyu nodded, feeling the weight of the night lift off his shoulders. “Of course,” he replied, though something in his chest tightened at the sincerity in her words. There was no tension, no hesitation. It was just teamwork. And for the first time in a while, he realized that working with her didn’t just feel like a task—it felt like they were in sync.

As the kitchen settled down the usual clattering of utensils and sizzling pans had a softer edge to it, almost as if the energy in the room had settled. Mingyu was trying to keep himself busy, getting ready for the end of the day, but his mind kept drifting back to the conversation he had with Y/N yesterday. The tension between them had been so palpable, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that lingered after he’d let his jealousy slip through. He didn’t want to mess things up, especially not now.

He glanced over to her, and as if on cue, Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time that morning. There was a brief moment of silence, before she wiped her hands on a towel and walked over.

“I, uh, I wanted to talk about yesterday,” she began, her voice uncharacteristically cautious. She looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction, and Mingyu immediately felt the weight of her gaze.

Mingyu set down the knife he had been using to chop vegetables, his expression softening. He could feel the heaviness between them too. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. I didn’t mean to... make you feel like I was crossing a line.”

Y/N paused, glancing down at the counter. “It’s not that. I just…” She trailed off for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “I guess I didn’t like how I made you feel. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

Mingyu frowned, his hands instinctively clenching around the edge of the counter. “I know you didn’t,” he said quietly. “But I... I didn’t like the way I acted either. I shouldn’t have said what I did. You’re allowed to have your friends here, and I should have respected that.” He took a deep breath, his eyes briefly flickering to the side. “I guess I was just jealous. But that’s not an excuse for being a jerk.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get that. It’s just... I don't really know how to balance everything sometimes.” She lifted her hands as if to emphasize her words. “You know? Work, friends, everything else. Sometimes I put all of that above what’s actually important to me.”

Mingyu’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to explain. I get it more than you think.”

Y/N glanced at him, a little surprised by his response. She gave a small, reluctant smile. “You do, don’t you?”

Mingyu smiled back, though it was a little more hesitant than usual. “Yeah. I do.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And... I’m sorry for pushing. I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

There was a small silence between them as the words settled. Y/N took a deep breath, pushing back the tension that had been building over the last day. “I appreciate that,” she said softly. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have let it get to that point.”

Mingyu gave a nod, a sense of relief washing over him. It wasn’t fixed yet, but it felt like they were on the right track. “So... friends?” he asked, his voice light, trying to ease the air.

Mingyu nodded, his smile a little tighter than usual, though he was glad to see the tension easing between them. “Yeah. Friends,” he echoed, but as the words left his mouth, something in him clenched.

It wasn’t that he was unhappy to be friends with Y/N. No, he appreciated their dynamic. She was smart, capable, and had a way of seeing things that made him respect her more than anyone else in the kitchen. But the way she said it, so casually, as if there was no possibility of anything more... It made something stir in him, a flicker of frustration he hadn’t realized was there until now.

As she turned away to handle something on the counter, Mingyu’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than he intended. He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the work in front of him, but it wasn’t that easy. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he wanted something else—something more than just this platonic, professional relationship.

He’d spent enough time with her to know that she was someone he could trust, someone who didn’t make him feel like he had to put on a front. But as much as he wanted to be close to her, something about the way she spoke about them being “friends” made him feel like maybe he’d just been placed in a box he didn’t know how to escape from.

Mingyu was tired of being just the guy she shared a laugh with in the kitchen or the guy who covered for her when she needed a break. He wanted to be someone she could rely on, yes—but more than that. He wanted to be the one who made her smile in a way that wasn’t just professional. The one she’d call outside of work, the one she’d want to spend time with after a busy shift.

But for now, he was stuck. Stuck in the friend zone.

As much as he tried to push the thought away, it lingered, a gnawing feeling in his chest. He could deal with being just friends... for now. But he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending he didn’t want more.

“Is that the guy that you’ve been talking about?” Y/N’s best friend Yuna asked, shoving her phone into Y/N’s face as she blinked, trying to adjust her eyes, before looking at the picture of Mingyu in his chef clothes.

“Yeah, that’s Mingyu.”

“Bitch, why didn’t you tell me he was hot!” Yuna exclaimed, as Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ve been working with him! How have you not jumped him yet?”

“Yuna!” Y/N gasped, gasped, snatching the phone from her friend’s hand. “It’s not like that.”

Yuna raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, come on. You’ve been talking about him nonstop for weeks. And now that I know he looks like that” she gestured wildly at the screen, “—I refuse to believe you’re not at least a little into him.”

Y/N sighed, setting the phone down. “He’s… complicated.”

Yuna scoffed. “Oh, please. Men are not that deep.”

Y/N shook her head. “It’s not just him, it’s me too. We got off on the wrong foot, and things have been weird ever since. We work well together, but I don’t know if I’d ever go there with him.”

Yuna hummed, unconvinced. “And does he know that? Because if he’s got even half a brain, I bet he’s already thinking about it.”

Y/N wanted to argue, but the memory of Mingyu’s expression from the other day, when she’d called them friends—flashed in her mind. She had thought she was smoothing things over, making their dynamic easier, but had she actually done the opposite?

“Whatever,” she muttered, brushing off the thought. “It’s not happening.”

Yuna grinned, leaning back against the couch. “We’ll see.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Y/N asked, standing up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen.

“No, you never have any boy drama and the one time you do, you don’t want to talk to me about it! That’s what best friends are for!” Yuna sighed, dramatically throwing herself against the couch.

Y/N opened the fridge, pretending to be way more interested in its contents than she actually was. “It’s not boy drama,” she insisted, grabbing a bottle of water.

Yuna scoffed. “You’re avoiding talking about him. That means it’s absolutely boy drama.”

Y/N twisted the cap off and took a long sip, stalling. “It’s work drama.”

“Oh my God,” Yuna groaned. “You are so bad at this. Just admit that you like him a little bit.”

Y/N turned around, leaning against the counter. “I don’t like him like that.”

Yuna gave her a knowing look. “But you want to.”

That made Y/N pause. She frowned, gripping the bottle a little tighter. Did she?

She’d spent so much time keeping Mingyu at a distance, keeping things strictly professional (well, as professional as they could be). But now that the tension between them had finally eased, now that they were in a good place—did she really want more?

“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” Y/N admitted, looking down at the bottle in her hands.

Yuna softened, sitting up. “Then don’t.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not that simple.”

“Maybe it is,” Yuna said. “Maybe you’re just overthinking it.”

Y/N let out a short laugh. “You think I’m overthinking? Shocking.”

Yuna grinned. “I’m just saying, if you ever decide you want to stop overthinking and do something about it, I fully support you jumping his bones.”

Y/N groaned, tossing a dish towel at her. “Oh my God, shut up.”

Yuna just laughed.

The kitchen had grown quieter as the night wore on. The usual rush of orders had tapered off, leaving the staff to clean up the last of the dishes and prep for the next day. Y/N was lingering by the sink, wiping down the counter, but her mind wasn’t entirely focused on the task at hand.

She kept glancing at Mingyu, who was busy organizing a few things by the stove. There was something about him tonight—something that felt different. The usual distance between them had lessened, and the casual, almost playful banter they’d shared earlier was still hanging in the air.

But Y/N felt a twinge of something else, something deeper than she was used to feeling. Maybe it was the way he’d made her laugh so easily or how he had looked at her when she’d brought up the appraiser’s visit. It made her realize, with a little surprise, that she wanted to spend more time with him. Outside of work. Away from the chaos of the kitchen.

Her hand froze for a second as she wiped down the counter. The idea had been forming in her mind for a while, but now that it was out there, it felt a little more real—and a lot more daunting. Still, she took a deep breath, straightened up, and approached him.

“Mingyu,” she said, her voice cutting through the stillness in the kitchen.

He looked up from his task, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. She was used to keeping her work and personal life separate, and this—asking him out—felt like a big step. But she wasn’t going to chicken out now.

“I was thinking,” she started, her tone light but with a hint of uncertainty, “maybe we could, uh, grab dinner sometime. You know, outside of work.”

Mingyu’s brow furrowed for a moment, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion. He set down the towel he had been holding and turned fully to face her. “Dinner?”

Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the growing flutter of nerves in her stomach. “Yeah, like… just the two of us. No work talk, no kitchen chaos. I thought it might be nice, you know? A chance to, um, actually talk and not just shout over orders.”

She managed a half-smile, hoping her words didn’t sound as awkward as they felt.

Mingyu seemed to be processing it, his gaze never leaving hers. There was something in his eyes—surprise, curiosity, maybe even a hint of excitement. After a beat, he broke into a small grin.

“You want to get dinner with me?” he asked, his voice teasing but with a soft edge that made her heart skip.

Y/N nodded again, her smile widening. “Yeah. I mean, unless you don’t want to. It’s fine if—”

“No,” Mingyu interrupted, a little too quickly. “I’d like that. A lot, actually.” His smile deepened as he added, “I think it sounds like a good idea.”

The moment of uncertainty between them seemed to dissolve, and Y/N could feel herself relax a little. The weight of the tension from earlier was starting to lift, replaced with a new kind of anticipation. She tried not to overthink it, not to read too much into the fact that he’d responded so eagerly.

“Great,” Y/N said, her voice a little more confident now. “How about Friday night, after work? We could just go to a place nearby, nothing fancy.”

Mingyu thought for a second, looking up as if mentally scanning his calendar. “Friday sounds perfect. I’ll be there,” he said with a wink, his tone easy and comfortable.

Y/N grinned, relieved and excited all at once. “Alright, Friday it is. See you then.”

As she turned to walk away, she felt a rush of excitement, though she kept her cool. She had no idea what to expect, but there was something about the prospect of spending time with Mingyu outside the kitchen that felt both exciting and a little terrifying.

Mingyu watched her walk toward the door, a faint smile on his lips. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, and then he turned back to the counter, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

Maybe this dinner thing would be exactly what they both needed—a chance to break down some walls, to see each other as more than just coworkers. Mingyu couldn’t quite put his finger on why the idea of spending time with her outside of work felt so important, but he wasn’t about to question it. He just hoped that when Friday came, they could both enjoy it for what it was—something new, something that felt right.

Friday evening arrived, and as Y/N entered the small, cozy restaurant she had picked out for the evening, she couldn’t help but feel a nervous flutter in her chest. She had been to this place a few times before—charming, low-key, and not at all flashy—but tonight, it felt different. Tonight, it was where she was meeting Mingyu, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a casual meal.

The soft hum of background chatter filled the air as she approached the hostess stand, where a friendly woman greeted her with a warm smile. After confirming her reservation, Y/N was led to a corner booth near the back, bathed in soft, amber lighting. The booth was intimate but not too small, the kind of spot where you could have a conversation without feeling overheard. The dim lighting added to the relaxed atmosphere, giving the space a warm, welcoming vibe.

Y/N took a seat, smoothing the front of her jacket, still uncertain about the evening ahead. Her eyes wandered to the front door, where she expected Mingyu to walk through any moment now. She had barely processed the fact that they were here, about to have dinner together, until she found herself fidgeting with her glass of water.

The minutes seemed to stretch, and before she could start second-guessing herself, the sound of the door opening interrupted her thoughts. She glanced up, her breath catching a little as Mingyu walked in. He was dressed in a dark, casual jacket and a simple shirt underneath, looking effortlessly stylish, though she knew his presence was what had her heart racing more than anything.

As soon as their eyes met, he smiled, that familiar, easy grin that always made her feel like everything was going to be alright. Y/N felt her shoulders relax as he made his way over, and she stood up, offering him a small but genuine smile. Mingyu greeted her with a warm “Hey,” before taking a seat across from her, settling in comfortably.

“So,” Mingyu began, leaning back slightly in his seat as the waitress handed them menus, “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Outside of work, I mean.”

Y/N laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Yeah, it’s a little strange, isn’t it? Not having orders to fill or a kitchen to run."

She folded her menu in half and set it down on the table, now feeling more at ease. Mingyu was right. This was a different kind of conversation—a different kind of atmosphere. No pressures, no distractions. Just the two of them, sitting across from one another for the first time, with no agenda but to enjoy the evening.

Mingyu studied her for a moment, that usual playfulness in his eyes, but there was a softness there too. “Well, we don’t have to worry about burning anything tonight, right?” he teased, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

“No kitchen disasters,” she agreed, her voice light with amusement. She paused, the laughter dying down, and added, “I’m glad you could make it. I’ve been wanting to talk to you more—outside of work.”

The words were out before she could stop them, and she felt a faint blush creep up her neck. Mingyu raised an eyebrow, as if surprised, but the corners of his mouth curled upward.

“Me too,” he admitted, the sincerity in his tone not lost on her. “There’s... a lot I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N’s heart beat a little faster as she leaned forward, intrigued. “Oh?” she asked, her voice dipping into curiosity.

“Yeah.” Mingyu’s expression softened, and his eyes held hers with an unexpected intensity. “You’re more than just the girl who works the line, you know.”

Her breath caught for a split second as she met his gaze, a flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain. There was something in his words, something in the way he looked at her that made her wonder just where this night would lead.

As they both settled into their seats, the quiet hum of the restaurant around them, it became clear that this wasn’t just another dinner—it was the start of something new, something unexpected, and maybe something neither of them were prepared for.

“So, what made you decide to invite me here tonight?” Mingyu asked, his voice gentle, a teasing smile dancing on his lips.

Y/N paused, unsure how to answer at first. The question lingered in the air, a small but meaningful moment between them. She could feel his gaze on her, curious but kind, as though he was genuinely interested in what she had to say.

“I don’t know,” she replied slowly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “I guess I’ve been thinking a lot lately about… well, everything.” Her voice trailed off, but Mingyu waited patiently, not rushing her to elaborate. “About work, about us, and I realized we’ve never really just… talked, y'know? Outside of the chaos of the kitchen. I wanted to change that.”

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, his eyes softening. “I get that,” he said quietly, tapping his fingers on the table lightly. “It’s been all business, hasn’t it? Always so focused on the next dish, the next order. But I’ve been thinking about it too, about how we never seem to have a moment to just… stop.”

Y/N nodded, appreciating his understanding. It felt like he wasn’t just hearing her words but truly listening. The tension between them had already begun to shift, replaced with something softer, more genuine. The conversation felt natural, even comfortable.

“There’s a lot we’ve missed,” she continued, her eyes meeting his. “I think we both deserve a little more than just the rushed hellos and goodbyes in the kitchen.”

Mingyu’s smile widened, but this time, it wasn’t teasing. It was warm, sincere. “I agree. I’m glad you thought of this.” He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “I’ve wanted to get to know you more, Y/N. But I wasn’t sure if that was something you’d want too.”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. His honesty was disarming, and for the first time, she realized how much she’d been trying to hide behind her own walls—how much she’d been holding back.

“I—" She started, then stopped herself. "I think... I think I’ve been holding back too. It’s easy to keep things surface-level when you're afraid of what might happen if you let someone in.”

There was a quiet pause as Mingyu studied her, as though trying to read between the lines. His eyes softened further. “I don’t want to push you into anything. But I’m glad we’re here. And I want you to know… I’m not going anywhere.”

The words hit her more than she expected. She’d been so caught up in her own reservations, in the fear of opening up to someone, but hearing him say that made everything feel just a little bit easier. Maybe she wasn’t alone in this after all.

“I’m not sure where this will go,” she admitted, her voice steady now, “but I’m willing to find out.”

Mingyu’s smile was gentle, understanding. “Me too.”

The waiter arrived just then, and they both shifted slightly as the conversation momentarily paused. The timing was perfect, offering them both a moment to breathe. But as their eyes met again, there was a quiet understanding between them, a shared recognition of something beginning to change.

After they both had ordered and the wine was served, a comfortable silence had fallen between them. Mingyu swirled his glass absentmindedly, watching the deep red liquid catch the light before glancing up at Y/N.

“So,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone, “are we finally going to talk about the elephant in the room, or should we just pretend this is a totally normal coworkers-having-dinner situation?”

Y/N raised a brow, tilting her head slightly. “And what exactly is the elephant in the room?”

Mingyu smirked, leaning forward just a bit. “You tell me.”

“Alright,” Y/N said, taking a sip of her drink, gathering her thoughts. “When you first started at the restaurant, I found you… a little overwhelming. You were confident but never arrogant, sharp but never unkind. You had this easy charm, like you belonged anywhere you walked into.” She exhaled softly, setting her glass down. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, you were different. Most of the men I’ve worked with made me prove myself before they treated me as an equal—but with you, that respect was just there from the start. And I didn’t know what to do with that.”

Mingyu was shocked at her words, he realized that she was complimenting him, but he couldn’t help but feel sad at what she was saying at the same time.

“I’m sorry you’ve always been treated that way,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Y/N offered a small, almost shy smile, tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertip. “It’s just how it’s always been,” she admitted. “You get used to it, I guess.”

Mingyu frowned. “That doesn’t mean you should have to.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe not. But I learned to stop expecting anything different.” She glanced up at him then, something unreadable in her gaze. “That’s why you threw me off so much.”

Mingyu tilted his head. “Because I wasn’t an asshole?”

Y/N huffed a laugh. “Because you were kind,” she corrected. “And not in a way that felt fake or calculated. You weren’t trying to prove anything—you just were.”

Mingyu hadn’t been sure what to expect when he first met Y/N. She was sharp, focused, and had an air of confidence that made it clear she didn’t tolerate nonsense. He respected that. But at the same time, there was something about her that made him want to push her buttons just to see if she’d let herself crack a little.

At first, he had assumed she was just another work-driven chef who saw emotions as distractions. She was direct, efficient, and kept to herself—someone who measured worth by skill and experience rather than charm. And honestly? He hadn’t been sure she even liked him.

But over time, as he paid attention, he noticed the subtleties. The way her eyes softened when she was teaching a younger cook. The way she covered for others without making a big deal about it. How she’d quietly adjust a station if someone was struggling, never saying a word but always making things easier.

He had admired her long before he realized it.

And now, sitting across from her, listening to her say that he was different, that he had surprised her—Mingyu felt something tighten in his chest.

Because the truth was, she had surprised him too. And the more he learned about her, the more he realized that admiration wasn’t all he felt.

“I’m really glad we’re here tonight,” he said softly.

“So am I,” she said softly, meeting his gaze for just a moment. There was something unspoken between them—an understanding, a shift in the air that neither of them was quite ready to acknowledge.

Before she could say anything else, the waiter arrived, carefully placing their meals in front of them. The moment broke, and they both leaned back slightly as the rich aroma of their dishes filled the space between them.

Mingyu picked up his fork, glancing at her with a small smile. “Well, let’s see if this place lives up to the hype.”

Y/N chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “You better not critique the chef too hard.”

He grinned. “No promises.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted, but the weight of what had just been said lingered in the background—waiting.

Mingyu could tell that something had shifted after his dinner with Y/N on Friday. The tension that once lingered between them had eased, replaced by a newfound sense of comfort. Even in the high-pressure environment of the restaurant, where stress was unavoidable, their interactions felt smoother—more natural.

“Do you need a hand with the sauce?” He asked her during a particular busy time during the dinner rush.

“Please!” She sighed, wiping some of the sweat off her forehead and handed him the pot.

Mingyu took over seamlessly, stirring with practiced ease as he adjusted the heat. The kitchen was a flurry of movement—chefs calling orders, the sizzle of pans, and the sharp clatter of knives against cutting boards. But in the midst of the chaos, there was something steady about working alongside Y/N.

“Salt?” he asked, glancing at her.

“Pinch more,” she responded, barely looking up as she plated a dish.

Mingyu did as she instructed, tasting the sauce before nodding in approval. “Perfect.”

Y/N shot him a quick, grateful smile, and for a brief moment, amidst the rush, they weren’t just colleagues—they were a team.

“Wow, you two are working together?” Jeonghan asked, stepping away from his station to witness the rare event that was Y/N accepting help.

“Just this once,” Y/N said, not giving Jeonghan a smile, but instead, giving Mingyu a playful one.

Mingyu felt a flicker of satisfaction at her expression—reserved but amused, a far cry from the guarded looks she used to give him.

"Just this once, huh?" he teased, stirring the sauce one last time before setting the pot down. "Guess I'll have to make it count."

Jeonghan smirked, clearly entertained by the shift in dynamic. "I'll believe it when I see it again."

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she focused back on her station, her movements a little less tense than before.

Mingyu didn’t push, but he couldn’t ignore the way his chest felt a little lighter. Maybe things really were changing between them.

After the last of the plates were cleared and the kitchen had finally quieted down, only Mingyu and Y/N remained, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the now-empty restaurant. As they stepped out into the crisp night air, Mingyu turned to her with a gentle smile, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I could walk you home, if you’d like,” he said, his voice warm, almost tentative.

Y/N paused, her gaze meeting his. A slight smile tugged at her lips, though there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. “That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to. I’m sure you’re tired too.”

Mingyu shrugged nonchalantly, though the glimmer in his eyes suggested a different sentiment. “It’s no trouble,” he insisted, his smile softening. “I’d prefer the company. Besides, I owe you one for all the help today.”

Y/N considered him for a moment before nodding, her smile widening just a fraction. “Alright then.”

Her apartment was just a short walk away—at most ten minutes—but with Mingyu by her side, it felt like the kind of walk that could stretch on forever. The summer was slipping away, its warmth receding into the past, and with it came the bite of early fall. Y/N tugged her coat a little tighter around her as the evening chill crept in, but she couldn't ignore the small shiver that ran down her spine when Mingyu, noticing, pulled his gloves from his pockets and extended them toward her.

“You sure?” she asked, glancing at his outstretched hands, unsure if she wanted to accept.

“Yeah,” Mingyu said with a soft chuckle, his voice warm despite the cool air. “I’m not going to need them. Plus, I wouldn’t want you freezing on me.”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before accepting the gloves, feeling the warmth of them instantly as she slid her hands into them. She glanced up at him, a small smile on her lips, thankful for his thoughtfulness.

“Thanks,” she murmured, the silence between them comfortable for the first time all evening.

As they continued walking, their footsteps syncing, Y/N felt a sudden tug in her chest. Without thinking, she reached out and brushed her fingers against his, and just as quickly, he responded, his fingers lacing with hers. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the gloves.

As they both approached Y/N’s apartment, she slowly pulled her hand away, the warmth of his touch still lingering on her skin. She turned to face him as they stopped in front of the building, a nervous tension hanging in the air between them.

“Thanks for walking me home,” Y/N said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she met his gaze. “I really appreciate it.”

Mingyu smiled, a little sheepish but genuine, his eyes lingering on her for just a moment longer than usual. "Of course, I’m glad I could do it. And I meant it—don’t hesitate to ask if you ever need anything."

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering. "I’ll keep that in mind," she said softly, the words hanging in the air between them like an unspoken promise.

The atmosphere felt different now, charged in a way it hadn’t been before, and she wasn’t sure if it was just her or if he felt it too. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, but there was a flicker of uncertainty there, too, as if he was holding back something he wanted to say.

“Goodnight, Mingyu,” she added with a smile, trying to keep the moment light, even as her heart raced.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Mingyu replied, his tone soft but carrying an unspoken weight behind it. As she turned to walk inside, he lingered for a moment longer, watching her until she disappeared through the door. And for the first time in a while, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between them than just a simple friendship.

“Yes!” He whispered under his breath, pumping his fist in the air in victory, a quiet but triumphant gesture. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he turned to head toward the bus station. The weight that had been hovering over him for days—weeks, even—felt lighter, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt like things were falling into place.

He was still riding the high from their walk together, from the small but meaningful connection that had bloomed between them. He couldn’t quite explain it, but there was something different now. Maybe it was the way their fingers had brushed together, or the soft look in her eyes when she’d smiled at him. Whatever it was, it had left him feeling like the future was full of possibilities.

As he made his way to the bus stop, his mind kept replaying the moment, over and over again. He had been holding his breath the entire time, unsure if she felt the same way—if she even thought of him the way he thought of her. But that little spark in her eyes had said more than words could.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out, quickly reading the message from Jeonghan: “Don’t overthink it, man. You got this.”

Mingyu smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Maybe he wasn’t overthinking it after all. Maybe this was just the beginning.

“Seriously, you’re telling me she just held your hand?” Wonwoo asked, sitting up from his lounging position on the living room couch, his voice laced with disbelief as he stared at Mingyu. He was trying to process what he was hearing.

Mingyu shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a small, smug grin playing at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened. I offered her my gloves ‘cause it was cold, and she just grabbed my hand instead.”

Wonwoo blinked a couple of times, leaning back against the cushions in stunned silence. His mind was struggling to comprehend the sheer casualness with which Mingyu was telling the story. He knew Mingyu had his charm, but this was another level.

“You really know how to work your magic, huh?” Wonwoo said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I honestly don’t even know how you do it. You just... walk up to a girl and suddenly, you’re holding hands?”

Mingyu leaned back in his seat, his grin widening. “Well, it wasn’t like I planned it. It just kind of... happened. But yeah, she held my hand and, honestly, it felt pretty natural.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Natural? Dude, that sounds like a big deal. Are you sure you’re not reading too much into it?”

Mingyu sighed, his smile faltering slightly as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t know, man. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. It just felt different with her, you know? Like, I’m not sure how to explain it... but it felt like a step forward. But also, I’m not sure if I’m reading too much into it, either.”

Wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. “It’s not bad to feel like something’s different. But just don’t go overthinking every little thing, okay? Trust your gut. You two have been good friends, so maybe it’s just a matter of it slowly becoming something more. Just don’t rush it.”

Mingyu considered his words, his eyes drifting to the window. “Yeah... maybe. It’s just, with her, everything feels like it could be more. But, like I said, I don’t want to make things weird between us.”

Wonwoo gave him a reassuring grin. “Look, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you don’t find these kinds of connections every day. Just take it easy. If she’s interested in you, it’ll show. And if she’s not, at least you know you tried.”

Mingyu nodded slowly, the weight of the conversation settling in. “Yeah. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Exactly,” Wonwoo said, leaning back again. “Now, how about we take a break from all this emotional drama and order some food? You look like you could use it.”

Mingyu chuckled softly, appreciative of Wonwoo’s ability to effortlessly break the tension. "You know," he said, leaning back into the couch, "you might be onto something there. A break from all this… emotional turmoil wouldn’t hurt."

Wonwoo gave him a knowing look, his lips curling into a sly grin. “Exactly. You’re overthinking it, as usual. Sometimes the simplest solution is to stuff your face and clear your head.”

Mingyu shook his head in amusement but pulled out his phone. “I guess you’re right. I need to step back and let things breathe for a bit. I’ll get us some dinner—something comforting.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, teasing, “Just make sure it's a feast. I can feel your brain overheating from all that pondering.”

A soft laugh escaped Mingyu as he selected their usual takeout. “I’ll make sure it's worth the calories. But for now, we forget about everything else, yeah?"

“Deal.” Wonwoo stretched out lazily, sinking back into the couch. “A little food and mindless conversation—just what the doctor ordered.”

As summer gradually surrendered to the crisp embrace of fall, a subtle shift occurred in the relationship between Y/N and Mingyu. What had once been a cordial camaraderie deepened into something undeniably more affectionate. The air around them, once filled with the usual banter of coworkers, now hummed with a quiet tension, a recognition of the feelings that had begun to unfurl like the autumn leaves surrounding them.

Their glances lingered longer than they used to—words exchanged now held an unspoken weight between them. After long shifts in the kitchen, Mingyu often found himself walking beside Y/N, their footsteps in sync as they navigated the bustling streets. And each time their hands brushed, the contact lingered just a beat too long, enough to send a wave of warmth through both of them.

As the evening air grew cooler, they walked side by side, the hum of the city around them almost forgotten. Mingyu stole a glance at Y/N, his thoughts racing, but he couldn’t quite find the right words. He cleared his throat, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

“You know,” he began, his voice casual but laced with something deeper, “I really enjoy these walks with you. More than I expected, honestly.”

Y/N looked over at him, her lips curling into a soft smile. She slowed her pace just slightly, letting the silence settle between them before replying.

“Yeah, me too,” she said quietly, her breath forming tiny clouds in the cool evening air. “It’s nice to unwind after a long shift, having someone to talk to.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, but the weight behind them was unmistakable. Mingyu glanced down at their hands, which had been brushing together with every other step. He swallowed, the connection between them so simple yet so significant.

“You ever think about how we’ve gone from barely talking to—this?” Mingyu asked, a playful edge in his voice, though his heart beat faster than he wanted to admit.

Y/N chuckled softly, her eyes meeting his. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quiet but warm, “it’s funny how things just kind of... shift, without either of us realizing it.”

Their hands brushed again, and this time neither of them pulled away. Y/N didn’t even seem to notice it at first, but when she did, she looked at Mingyu, her heart suddenly feeling like it might burst.

“Are we still just walking home?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper, and Mingyu felt a flush creep up his neck.

“Guess so,” he said, his words hanging in the air between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

And for a long moment, they walked together, the cool breeze brushing against them as the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of their footsteps and the quiet certainty that something had shifted—for the better

"Are you wearing new makeup?" Yuna asked, walking over and lightly tracing her finger over the glossy nude stain on Y/N's lips.

Y/N jumped slightly, swatting her hand away. "No," she lied, quickly glancing in the mirror to make sure the gloss wasn’t smudged.

Yuna leaned in, narrowing her eyes. "You are! I can tell. Why are you wearing new makeup? You don't usually go for this look... I mean, it looks good on you, but I’m kind of confused."

Y/N sighed, giving up the charade as she dug through her purse. She pulled out a larger makeup bag, opening it to reveal the fresh products she'd just picked up earlier that week. "Okay, fine. Yes, it’s new makeup. I don’t know... I just thought it was time for a change. Something different, you know?"

Yuna's eyebrows shot up as she took the bag from Y/N and started rifling through it, clearly intrigued. "A change? Girl, you’re over here talking about change, but look at all this! You went all out! These brands are way fancier than the usual stuff you get."

Y/N shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. "I just wanted to try something new. Maybe freshen up my routine a bit."

Yuna chuckled, pulling out a highlighter. "Freshen up your routine? You went straight for the big leagues. I see you got the good stuff—look at this highlighter! You didn’t even tell me you were planning to glow like this."

"Yuna, stop," Y/N said, her cheeks flushing slightly as she took the highlighter from her and tucked it back into the bag. "It’s not that serious."

"Oh, it’s serious," Yuna teased, shaking her head. "The question is—who’s the lucky guy that’s got you changing up your look? You’ve never been one to put this much effort into your makeup before."

Y/N’s eyes widened as she quickly fumbled for an excuse, her voice quieter than usual. "I’m just trying something new. It’s nothing like that."

Yuna gave her a knowing look, but didn’t push further. Instead, she grabbed a lipstick and held it up to Y/N’s lips. "Well, whether it's for someone or just for you, it’s looking good. I’m just saying, you’ve got that glow now."

Y/N gave her a half-smile, still feeling a bit embarrassed but also somewhat pleased by the compliment. "Thanks, Yuna."

Yuna smirked. "Well, if you won’t tell me who it’s for, at least let me play makeup artist with your new stuff. Come on, let’s see how much more fabulous I can make you."

Y/N shook her head, trying to hold back a laugh. "You’re impossible."

"But you love me," Yuna said, winking as she started applying the lipstick to her friend's lips. "Now spill—it’s either a guy or a new level of self-care. Which one is it?"

Y/N just rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "You’re never gonna let this go, huh?"

"Not a chance," Yuna grinned, already planning her next line of questioning. "Is it Mingyu?" Yuna asked, her voice teasing as she raised an eyebrow, noticing the silence that followed.

Y/N froze for a second, her mind racing. She hadn't intended for this to come up. The blush on her cheeks betrayed her, though, as it spread across her face like wildfire.

Yuna grinned, her smirk widening. "Oh my god, it is him, isn't it?"

Y/N quickly looked away, hoping the flush would subside, but her heart was already pounding in her chest. "I—it's not like that," she stammered, still avoiding Yuna's gaze.

Yuna's laughter filled the room, and she playfully nudged Y/N's shoulder. "Come on, don't try to hide it. I saw the way you were with him the other night, and now you’re changing up your look? He’s definitely got you thinking about him, huh?"

Y/N sighed, her hands instinctively reaching for the makeup bag to distract herself. "It's... complicated," she admitted quietly, biting her lower lip.

Yuna raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Complicated? In what way?"

Y/N took a deep breath, her mind spinning as she tried to figure out how to explain without giving too much away. "I don't know... we’ve been getting closer. It’s just... different now."

Yuna leaned in closer, her expression softening slightly. "Closer? That sounds like a good thing, Y/N. Maybe it’s time to see where this goes." She paused, a teasing gleam still in her eye. "I mean, he’s a good guy. Plus, you did just get all this new makeup for him, didn’t you?"

Y/N's blush deepened, but she gave a small smile. "Can we not talk about the makeup for him?" she muttered, feeling both flustered and oddly comforted by her friend’s teasing.

Yuna grinned wider, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Alright, alright, but I’m just saying, if you ever need someone to talk to about Mingyu—or about anything else—you know I’m here."

"Thanks, Yuna," Y/N said softly, her heart feeling a little lighter as she finally looked back at her friend.

Yuna winked. "Anytime. Just don’t take too long to figure out what's between you two. You deserve someone who makes you smile, and from what I can see, he might just be the one."

Thanks, Yuna,” Y/N said, meeting her friend’s gaze. “It means a lot to have someone to talk to about all this.”

Yuna grinned, giving her a playful shove. “Anytime. Now, let’s talk about your makeup again, because that’s the real mystery here.”

Y/N was slightly embarrassed that her friend had read her so easily, but a part of her was relieved. It felt good to finally share her thoughts with someone who understood without judgment. She had always been so private, especially when it came to matters of the heart, but Yuna’s lighthearted teasing made it seem less intimidating.

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes, but her heart felt lighter as she finally relaxed. She could do this. She just had to take things one step at a time.

The dinner rush hit like a storm, the clattering of plates and the ringing of the ticket printer blending into a cacophony of pressure. In the back, the kitchen was a frenzy of heat and noise. The team was already feeling the strain, and it was only getting worse.

Mingyu stood at the stove, his hand moving skillfully over the hot pan as he worked on the scallops. But in his haste to keep up with orders, he misjudged the timing. The scallops, delicate and prone to overcooking, began to blacken along the edges. His heart dropped when he realized his mistake.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, pulling the scallops off the heat just in time to stop them from becoming completely ruined. But the damage was done. The scallops had lost their delicate texture and now looked less than appetizing.

Over at the sauce station, Y/N was juggling multiple pans, keeping an eye on each one to ensure nothing burned. But then, as if on cue, the beurre blanc she had been carefully preparing suddenly started bubbling over, splattering across the stove and dripping onto the floor in a disastrous mess.

“Crap!” Y/N cursed, scrambling to grab a towel to stem the flow, but it was too late. The sauce had already scorched the burner and spilled across the kitchen. She wiped her hands frantically on her apron as she tried to contain the damage. “Not now,” she muttered to herself, panic rising in her chest. This wasn’t the time for things to go wrong.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan, who was in charge of the risotto, was experiencing his own crisis. The rice, which was meant to be creamy and tender, had somehow become a mushy, overcooked mess. He was stirring furiously, trying to salvage it, but each stir seemed to make it worse. The dish was supposed to be a signature item for the evening, and now it was quickly turning into a nightmare.

“Dammit!” Jeonghan hissed, shaking his head in frustration. “This is not how tonight was supposed to go.”

Dino, who was assigned to roast vegetables, had just pulled a tray of brussels sprouts out of the oven only to find they were charred black on one side. He quickly shoved them back in, hoping to salvage the other side, but there was no saving that batch. The oven had been on too high, and everything had cooked unevenly.

“Are you kidding me?” Dino groaned. The kitchen was a disaster, and it was clear to everyone that they were losing control.

As the pressure mounted, the kitchen was filled with a symphony of frustration—knives chopping, pans sizzling, and everyone speaking over one another. The orders were piling up, and each mistake felt like a snowball gaining momentum. Mingyu cursed under his breath as he pulled the ruined scallops aside, and Y/N wiped her brow, trying to steady herself as she assessed the damage to her sauce.

But it was when Jeonghan’s risotto began to burn that the atmosphere truly shifted. The heat, the noise, and the sheer chaos of it all seemed to consume the kitchen.

“Guys!” Y/N called over the commotion, her voice louder than it had been all night. “We need to pull it together. NOW.”

She moved quickly to Mingyu’s side, assessing the scallops. "You didn’t burn them completely, just give them a second to rest," she said calmly, despite her own rising panic. "I’ll take over the sauce, you focus on those."

Mingyu nodded, frustration still etched on his face. “I didn’t mean to mess up,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving the burnt edges of the scallops.

“I know, we’ve all had a moment,” she replied, her tone steady. “Let’s fix it. I’ll do the sauce. You do the scallops. We’ve got this.”

She turned to Jeonghan, who was standing frozen in front of the pot of ruined risotto. “Jeonghan, we need more stock. Stir slowly, and don’t panic. It’ll come together.”

Jeonghan met her eyes, nodding gratefully before returning to the pan. The calm in her voice was like a lifeline, and it was enough to snap him out of his daze.

Dino was already back to the vegetables, moving quickly this time, pulling a fresh tray of brussels sprouts from the oven and tossing them back in the oven at a slightly lower temperature. “These are going to be perfect,” he muttered under his breath, determined not to let his earlier mistake define the night.

As the team pulled together, Y/N felt a rush of adrenaline. The clock was ticking, and the orders kept coming in, but her mind had shifted into autopilot. She moved fluidly between stations, taking charge where necessary, offering reassurance where she could.

But just as it seemed they were getting a handle on the chaos, the pressure cooker that was the kitchen had one last surprise in store. The walk-in fridge door, which had been opened and closed multiple times in the midst of the frantic rush, was now jammed. Inside, they had the ingredients they needed to finish off several orders. But no one could get the door to budge.

“Of course,” Y/N muttered under her breath, banging her fist lightly against the door. “Why not?”

“We’ve got no choice,” Mingyu said, his tone resigned. “We’ll have to move fast and get what we need from the front cooler.”

Y/N nodded. “We’ll make it work.”

With Mingyu leading the way, they quickly gathered the necessary ingredients from the front. The frantic energy that had pervaded the kitchen turned into a united determination. They were in this together, and failure wasn’t an option.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the orders were out. Plates of perfectly seared scallops, velvety risotto, and roasted vegetables, all beautifully arranged and delivered. Everyone was covered in sweat, their clothes stained with sauce and oil, but the relief was palpable. The nightmare was over.

Y/N looked around at the team, catching Mingyu’s gaze for a split second. “We did it,” she said, the exhaustion and pride clear in her voice.

Mingyu, his expression tired but satisfied, nodded. “We did.”

Jeonghan, still breathing heavily, leaned against the counter. “That was a disaster,” he chuckled. “But it was a disaster we survived.”

Dino grinned, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder. “Yeah, and now it’s time for a drink.”

The tension in the kitchen melted away, replaced by a shared sense of accomplishment. They had survived the storm, stronger as a team than they had ever been before.

In the chaos of the night, they had not only saved the dinner service, but they had learned to lean on one another. They had learned to trust, to adapt, and to push through even the toughest of moments. And as they stood together, catching their breath and sharing small smiles, Y/N knew that this disaster had only made them stronger.

As the night came to a wrap and Y/N and Mingyu started their walk back to Y/N’s place, the air between them felt different—charged, almost electric. The chill of the evening clung to the air, but neither of them seemed to mind. Their steps were slow, unhurried, as if neither of them wanted the night to end just yet.

“You really took charge back there,” Mingyu said, shoving his hands into his pockets, glancing at her with something close to admiration. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Jeonghan actually listen to someone in a crisis.”

Y/N huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t give me too much credit. I was just trying to keep us all from setting the place on fire.”

Mingyu chuckled, but he didn’t say anything else right away. Instead, he let the silence settle between them, comfortable but weighted. The city lights flickered against the pavement, casting long shadows as they walked side by side.

At some point, their hands brushed, the contact fleeting but enough to make Y/N’s breath hitch. She didn’t move away, and neither did he. Instead, Mingyu took a slow breath, gathering the courage that had been bubbling inside him all night.

“You’re something else, you know that?” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful.

Y/N turned to look at him, her steps faltering just slightly. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu stopped walking then, and Y/N, caught in the moment, did too. They stood there, just a few steps away from her apartment, the night wrapped around them like a secret.

“I mean,” Mingyu said, lifting a hand as if he was about to reach for her but hesitating at the last second. “You make me nervous, and that doesn’t happen often.” His lips curled into a soft smile, but there was something undeniably sincere in his eyes, something that made Y/N’s heart race in her chest.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, the warmth of his presence pulling her in. “You don’t seem nervous,” she whispered.

Mingyu huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I am,” he admitted. And then, before she could respond, he took the last step that closed the space between them.

Y/N’s breath caught as Mingyu lifted a hand, his fingertips brushing the side of her face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was featherlight, hesitant, like he was giving her a chance to step away—but she didn’t.

Instead, she tilted her head just slightly, her gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips and back again. Mingyu swallowed, his pulse hammering as he leaned in, so close now that she could feel his breath ghosting over her skin.

For a moment, time seemed to slow, the sounds of the city fading into the background. It was just them, standing in the dim glow of the streetlamp, hearts racing, breaths mingling, the weight of something unspoken hanging between them—waiting.

As their lips finally met, the world seemed to stop. The cool night air faded into the background, and for a moment, it was just the two of them—Y/N and Mingyu. The space between them that had once felt like an ocean now felt like nothing at all.

Mingyu’s hand found its way to her waist, pulling her slightly closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. Y/N’s breath hitched as she melted into the kiss, unsure where the nervous tension from earlier had gone. She felt the rush of warmth that surged through her, the flicker of something she couldn’t fully describe yet.

Her fingers brushed lightly against his chest, unsure of where to place them, and Mingyu’s other hand found the back of her neck, holding her gently, as though she might disappear if he let go. The kiss deepened, slow and searching, as if they were both savoring the newfound closeness.

When they finally broke apart, their faces were so close that their breath mingled in the space between them. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest, unsure if she had just dreamt the entire moment. Her hand rested on his chest, feeling the quick rhythm of his heart as well.

Mingyu let out a quiet laugh, but his voice was hushed, almost reverent. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

Y/N smiled, trying to find her words, but she couldn’t quite get them out. She just let out a soft laugh, meeting his eyes. “Me too.”

And just as she thought the moment might slip away, she leaned in again, brushing her lips softly against his, as if asking for more. The kiss was gentle this time, but it carried with it the promise of something deeper, something neither of them were quite ready to define just yet.

It was a simple moment, but it felt like everything.

Mingyu reluctantly pulled away at a particularly harsh breeze and wrapped his arms around Y/N’s frame, “as much as I would like to continue, I can only imagine how cold you must be if I’m shivering.”

Y/N chuckled and wrapped her arms around his waist as nodded against him. Her place was in eyesight, if they got there soon, maybe they could continue the night and their previous activities.

Mingyu smiled softly, still holding her close, as if savoring the last bit of warmth from the kiss before reality crept back in. The chill in the air was undeniable, and he could feel the sharp wind cut through their clothes, but having Y/N in his arms made it almost bearable.

"I guess you're right," Y/N said, her voice quiet but warm, her breath mixing with his in the cold air. "We should probably get inside."

Reluctantly, Mingyu pulled back, his hands lingering on her arms for a moment longer, as if he didn’t want to let go just yet. Their eyes met, and for a split second, the weight of the unspoken words hung between them.

Y/N smiled softly, a small but knowing smile, before taking a step back and motioning toward the building. "Come on, we’re almost there."

They walked in comfortable silence, side by side, the occasional brush of their hands reminding them of the kiss they had just shared, still lingering like a sweet aftertaste.

When they reached her apartment, Y/N turned to face him, her fingers tracing the edges of his jacket. "Thanks for walking me home," she said, voice a little softer now, as if the night had shifted something between them.

Mingyu nodded, his thumb gently brushing her hand as it rested against his chest. "Anytime." His words came out more like a promise than anything else, as if he would walk her home every night if it meant he could stay close to her.

There was a pause, a moment of silence where everything felt suspended in time. Y/N glanced up at him, a glimmer of something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite read, but the closeness between them felt electric.

"Well..." she began, trailing off, her gaze shifting between his eyes and his lips.

Mingyu tilted his head slightly, his heart racing. "Well..." he repeated softly, his voice steady despite the rush of emotions he could feel building inside him.

And then, as if the distance between them could no longer be tolerated, Y/N leaned in again, this time with more intent, her lips brushing against his once more. The kiss was soft, but it carried the weight of everything they hadn’t said out loud. The world faded away again, leaving just the two of them—here, in this moment, with nothing but each other.

As their lips met again, Mingyu’s heart seemed to stop for just a moment, and everything else around him blurred. He could feel the warmth of her against him, her breath mingling with his, and he never wanted to let go. Every time their lips met, it felt like something shifted inside him, something he didn’t know he could feel until this moment.

His hand naturally moved to the back of her neck, holding her there, as if trying to pull her closer, as if he could keep her this close forever. The way her lips fit against his felt so right, and he couldn’t quite grasp why he felt so desperate to stay there, to not let the moment slip away. He had never felt this kind of pull before, like everything about him was tethered to her and every inch of space between them seemed unbearable.

It felt too good, too natural—this connection that was quickly becoming something he couldn’t easily walk away from. The cold air seemed irrelevant now, just a distant background to the warmth building between them. Mingyu could feel his pulse racing in his chest, and even though the air bit at his skin, he was lost in the warmth of her touch, the softness of her lips.

He didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want this moment to end. But at the same time, there was this hesitation, this fear in the back of his mind—what if this was too much too soon? What if they were both walking too fast, leaning into something they weren’t ready for? Yet, every time he thought about pulling away, his heart screamed at him to stay, to keep feeling this, to keep tasting her lips, just a little longer.

But the world outside—the chilly night, the noise of the city just a few blocks away—eventually crept in. He reluctantly pulled back, not wanting to, but knowing it was probably for the best. The need to breathe, to take a step back, seemed so small in comparison to the overwhelming desire to remain in her arms.

And yet, even as he pulled away, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she made him feel. How easy it was to lose himself in her presence. Mingyu wasn’t sure what this all meant yet, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that it felt too important, too real to just be a fleeting moment.

He just hoped she felt the same way.

“I don’t work tomorrow, but I can still come and walk you home?” He offered, watching her cheeks flush pink.

“No, that’s okay,” Y/N said with a small smile. “We’ve been pretty attached at the hip lately.”

Mingyu chuckled, tilting his head playfully. “Oh? You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “I didn’t say that.”

He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. “So, you like having me around?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the warmth creeping up her neck. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, chef. I just meant… a little space isn’t the worst thing.”

Mingyu grinned, stepping back dramatically. “Alright, alright. I’ll give you your space… for now.”

Y/N shook her head, but she couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow, even when he teased, he had a way of making her heart race.

“See you later, Chef Y/N,” Mingyu teased, his voice laced with affection. Before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

Y/N felt her breath hitch, her cheeks instantly warming as he pulled away with that signature smirk of his. “Get inside before you freeze,” he murmured, his hand brushing hers for just a second longer than necessary before he finally stepped back.

She stood there, still caught in the moment, watching him walk away with a giddy feeling blooming in her chest.

“Shut up! You guys kissed?” Yuna shrieked, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads on the street.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she quickly reached out, smacking Yuna’s shoulder in warning. “Can you not announce it to the entire city?” she hissed, glancing around before sighing and nodding. “Yeah… twice.”

“Oh my god!” Yuna clutched her chest dramatically. “Twice? And you’re just telling me this now? When were you planning to share this life-altering information?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile creeping onto her lips. “I don’t know, maybe when you weren’t screaming about it in public?”

Yuna held up a hand, effectively silencing Y/N mid-ramble. "No, no, no—you're not about to brush past this like it's nothing," she said, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Was it like… fireworks? A slow burn? Did he cup your face? Oh my god, did he do the thing where he leans in all intense and makes you forget how to breathe?"

Y/N groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Yuna, I don’t know. It was—good. Really good. We were both still on edge from the kitchen disaster, emotions were high, and then suddenly… it just happened."

Yuna gasped. "So it was a heat-of-the-moment kiss? Passionate? Unexpected? Please tell me he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world before it happened."

Y/N's face warmed as she crossed her arms. "...Maybe."

Yuna let out a delighted squeal, bouncing on her heels. "Oh, you're doomed. Completely, hopelessly doomed."

Y/n sighed, but didn't say anything else not wanting to draw any more attention.

Yuna, however, was far from done. She grinned, nudging Y/N’s shoulder. “So? Are you guys, like… a thing now?”

Y/N sighed, glancing around at the lingering stares from Yuna’s earlier outburst. “Can we not do this here?” she mumbled, pulling her coat tighter around herself.

Yuna smirked but relented, lowering her voice. “Fine, fine. But you owe me details. And don’t think I didn’t notice that dreamy little sigh you just did.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. Maybe she was doomed.

Mingyu was stressed. He had been tasked with creating three new dishes for the restaurant—no easy feat. Fish and chips were a classic, but Joshua had insisted on something more refined, pushing him to craft three completely diverse plates: Lobster Bisque, Seared Scallops with Garlic Mashed Potatoes, and Lamb Loin with Smoked Eggplant and Squash Purée.

The kitchen was alive with movement, sizzling pans, and the rhythmic chop of knives against cutting boards. Mingyu moved between stirring a delicate sauce and carefully searing slices of eggplant, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Who started the fire?” Y/N called from across the kitchen, her voice cutting through the controlled chaos.

“Joshua.” Mingyu scoffed, flipping the eggplant with a little more force than necessary. “Decides to throw me into the deep end with no warning.”

Y/N smirked as she walked over, glancing at the plated scallops. “So, how does it feel being a fully initiated chef now?”

Mingyu let out a dry laugh. “Like I’m being hazed. You’d think after months of proving myself, I wouldn’t have to fight for my life every night.”

Y/N leaned against the counter, watching him drizzle sauce over the lamb loin. “It’s a test. He wouldn’t have given you this if he didn’t think you could handle it.”

Mingyu exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I’d like to have a conversation with past me about why I thought this career was a good idea.”

Y/N chuckled. “Because you love it. Even when you’re pissed off and running on fumes, you wouldn’t trade this for anything else.”

Mingyu stilled for a moment before sighing. “Damn it. You’re right.” He glanced at the bisque, giving it one last stir. “I hate when you do that.”

“I know,” Y/N said smugly. “Now, hurry up. Joshua’s coming, and if that bisque isn’t perfect, you’ll be redoing it in your sleep.”

Mingyu chuckled but nodded, focusing back on his work. A comfortable silence settled between them, the only sounds being the soft bubbling of sauces and the rhythmic sizzle from the pan.

After a few moments, Mingyu glanced up, stealing a quick look at Y/N before speaking.

“Why do you love cooking?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.

Y/N hesitated for a second, eyes flickering toward the lamb he was carefully plating. “I don’t want to mess up your focus.”

Mingyu smirked, stirring the bisque without missing a beat. “I’m still going. I can multitask.”

“Okay, fine,” Y/N chuckled, shifting her weight slightly as she thought. “I guess... it feels like control. No matter how chaotic things get, if you follow the right steps, you get something good in the end.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, setting down his spoon. “So it’s about control for you?”

She shrugged. “Partly. But it’s also about creating something people actually enjoy. You can put effort into a lot of things in life and never see the payoff, but with food? You know right away if it’s good.”

Mingyu tilted his head, considering her words. “Huh.”

“What?”

He shook his head with a small smile. “Just didn’t expect you to sum it up so perfectly.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “What, you think I don’t think deeply about food?”

Mingyu chuckled. “No, I just remember mentioning how much I love the kitchen rush a while back, and you didn’t really say anything. I figured that was your way of saying you weren’t that into it.”

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Oh. No, that was just me being standoffish.”

Mingyu nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “I see. Well, I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to open up to me now.”

Y/N let out a soft chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah… I guess you kind of grew on me.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow playfully. “So, I wasn’t instantly charming?”

She smirked. “Not exactly. You were kind of annoying at first.”

Mingyu gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Annoying? I prefer the term ‘irresistibly charismatic.’”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her gaze gave her away. “Call it what you want. But yeah… I do feel more comfortable with you now.”

Mingyu’s expression softened, the teasing fading into something more genuine. “Good. I like this—us just talking like this.”

Y/N nodded, feeling the same unspoken ease settle between them.

“Are you guys flirting?” Jeonghan called out from his station, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Because if so, can you at least do it a little quieter? Some of us are actually working here.”

Laughter rippled through the kitchen, a few chefs throwing knowing glances their way. Y/N rolled her eyes, but the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Mingyu, unfazed, grinned as he tossed a towel over his shoulder. “Jeonghan, if you spent half as much time cooking as you do eavesdropping, maybe you’d finally impress Chef Lee.”

The laughter only grew louder, Jeonghan scoffing as he turned back to his work. The playful banter didn’t break the energy of the kitchen—it only made it feel lighter, more alive.

And maybe, just maybe, Mingyu and Y/N weren’t the only ones who felt the shift between them.

“How’s the extra dishes coming along?” Joshua asked, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder and snapping him out of his little daze.

Mingyu blinked, clearing his throat as he hastily turned back to the stove. “Good. Just, uh—getting down the garlic mashed potatoes,” he replied, stirring a little too intently.

Joshua chuckled, clearly not buying it. “Right. And were you planning to season them with longing stares, or...?”

Mingyu groaned, his cheeks tinged with a telltale blush. “Shut up, hyung,” he muttered, keeping his gaze locked on the pot, as if that would somehow erase the fact that he’d just been caught staring at Y/N—again.

Joshua only smirked, giving Mingyu another pat on the back before walking off. “Just don’t burn anything while you’re busy pinning.”

Mingyu’s head snapped toward Y/N, panic flashing in his eyes as he checked to see if she had heard Joshua’s teasing remark. To his relief, she was too focused on her own station to notice. Still, the mortification settled deep in his chest—if Joshua had caught on, who else had?

“Hyung, don’t say that out loud!” Mingyu hissed under his breath, glaring at Joshua.

Joshua only chuckled, unfazed. “Relax, Romeo. Your secret’s safe with me.” He shot Mingyu a playful wink before casually strolling back to his station.

Mingyu exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he turned back to his mashed potatoes. Get it together, man. But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at his lips.

A/N: Wow guys! that's the first part! I'm ngl, I'm not done writing this, life has been busy, so it may be a little bit before it's done! But I won' drag it out to multiple parts. I hope everyone likes it ♥

taglist: @fancypeacepersona @lolawlolawlol @syluslittlecrows @alyssa19123456 @christinewithluv

#seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu x reader #seventeen imagines #mingyu angst #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #mingyu #mingyu oneshot #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fanfic #svt x reader #svt mingyu #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu fluff

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seungkw1 · 6 months ago

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ring my bell — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection.

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him.

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything.

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before.

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business.

Easier said than done.

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him - wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced.

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great.

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time.

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan.

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans.

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room.

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough.

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time.

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass.

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep.

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops.

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible.

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard.

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet.

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you.

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high.

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths.

So much for running into him tomorrow.

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever.

You just pray to god he didn't hear you.

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day.

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you.

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button.

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down.

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it.

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating.

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually.

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet.

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you.

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens.

“Can I help you with that?”

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling.

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault.

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again.

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you.

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt.

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again.

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you.

But your gut is telling you otherwise.

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands.

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead.

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum.

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up.

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down.

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times.

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger.

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower.

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside.

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor.

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you.

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so. “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body.

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone.

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall.

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway.

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge.

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body.

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door.

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry.

Well, only one way to find out.

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants.

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake.

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat.

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache.

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in.

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him.

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk.

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say.

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously.

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…”

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze.

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…”

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room.

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today.

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato.

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused.

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it.

He lets out a deep sigh.

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I��ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point.

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face.

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths.

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question.

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his.

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips.

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you.

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you.

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours.

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly.

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him.

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster.

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this.

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly.

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size.

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears.

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp.

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath.

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin.

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well.

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.”

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen.

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail.

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt.

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face.

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks.

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel.

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover.

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-”

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound.

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it.

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet.

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently.

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper.

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him.

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile.

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile.

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin.

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm.

“Would you want to do this again?”

“Like, right now?” you reply.

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face.

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again.

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more.

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously.

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection.

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt.

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks.

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him.

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you.

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you - slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight.

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle.

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider.

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands.

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again.

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back.

“Do you want it to be?” you ask.

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods.

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you.

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

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joedirtymadre · 11 months ago

Text

Your First Fight

Headcanon 🫶 (Pls send more requests)

LUFFY + ZORO + SANJI + LAW + ACE + SABO

LUFFY

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me,” he said as he watched you pace around the room. “Are you serious? I asked you to stay behind on the ship, because you know this island is known to be a common Navy stop! All I needed was to grab some herbs and plants for the garden and who do I see rocketing into the middle of the plaza?” You asked, knowing damn well who it was. “Me…” he replied softly. “Exactly! I asked you to stay behind and watch the ship with the others! Why can’t you do the simplest of tasks?” You yelled. “So what if I left? I got bored, and why are you trying to tell me what to do?! If you want me to remind you, I’m your captain! You listen to me!” He yelled back.

“Well it obviously doesn’t look like it, since you were hurling at max speed into a Navy base island without a care in the world! Grow up! I asked you to stay behind because we had others who needed to stock up on supplies, which means you had to stay behind and make sure we’re not discovered or the ship isn’t hijacked!” You yelled. “We would have been fine! We always escape, so why are you so mad at me?” He asked. “Just because it hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it won’t. Plus I asked you to do something and you just ignored it,” You replied. “Well if you want to boss people around so much, go find your own ship. Maybe you’ll be a better captain,” he said coldly as he walked out of the bedroom.

ZORO

“Hey stop!” You called out to your boyfriend. You were both currently lost… or he was lost, you knew where to go, but Zoro wasn’t listening. “Zoro, I told you a billion times that the ship is the other way,” you said. “I know where it is! You don’t need to babysit me, I’m not a little kid,” he sighed. “I’m not trying to,” you said. “Well it feels like it… like I can’t take a break,” he grumbled. “Ok… but why are you so upset? I’m just giving you dire-“ he cut you off. “Because you’re always doing this!” He shouted as he stopped and looked at you.

“Huh?” You asked. “You’re always… suffocating me. I can never have a moment to myself, ever since we started dating. It’s like you’re a leech and I can never get rid of you for 5 seconds,” he groaned. “Oh…” your voice cracked. “I didn’t m-mean…” you trailed off. “Wait… (Y/N), I didn’t mean all that. I’m just-“ you cut him off. “No… it’s fine, I understand… You just want some space…I’ll head back to the ship, I’ll see you there,” you said as you turned on your heels and ran towards the ship. “(Y/N)!” You heard as you continued to run off.

SANJI

You slowly approached your boyfriend, excited to help him with whatever he needs. “Hey!” You smiled. “Hi beautiful, how are you?” He smiled back. “I’m great, so what are we making today?” You asked. “Nami-swan asked if I could make her some fruit tarts so I’ll be preparing that for her,” he smiled. “Mind if I help? If you finish quickly we can go-“ he cut you off. “Sorry (Y/N), but I’d hate for this to be messed up. It’s better if I do it alone,” he explained.

“Oh… but I normally help you in the kitchen, why can’t I help you with this one?” You asked, confused. “To make sure it’s perfect for my Nami-swan! Plus, you still haven’t mastered certain techniques, and I’d hate for this treat to not be perfect for my beloved Nami,” he swooned. “Seriously?” You huffed. “I didn’t mean to offend you my love, I was just answering your question,” he replied as he began preparing the dessert. “Ok fine, I’ll get out of your way. Maybe your beloved Nami will come help you out in the future,” you said coldly and began walking out of the kitchen. “(Y/N)! Hey! Wait!” He called out, but you continued to your bedroom.

LAW

“(Y/N) you’ve been at that for the past 6 hours, it’s time to take a break,” Law said as he watched you continue to try to fix the electrical issue that’s been causing problems with the motor. “But I can’t just stop now… what if the motor stops when we’re trying to escape from someone?” You asked, feeling frustrated by the uncooperative wires. “Come on, maybe you need some fresh air. We’ve been ducked at this island for a whole day and you haven’t even looked outside to see it,” he sighed. “Well I’m sorry that I’m trying to fix your ship!” You huffed. “That’s fine, but you need a break,” he said.

“Well I don’t want a break, what I want to do is fix this stupid thing!” You groaned. “And I really don’t need someone breathing down my neck when I’m trying to do something!” You added. “I’m just trying to look out for you, but if you’re gonna act like this then I’m leaving,” he said softly and headed towards the exit. “Good, maybe I’ll finally be able to fix this,” you glared as he walked out.

ACE

“Come on babe, are you really still mad at me?” Ace asked as he followed you to your bedroom. “What makes you think that?” You asked as you tried to shut the door in his face, but he quickly stopped it and stepped in. “That’s why,” he frowned. “Just making sure to close the door behind me,” you said as you gave a tight smile. “Come on, what’s the big deal? I’m sorry I left without telling you,” he said as he tried to hold you. “You just don’t understand,” you huffed as you brushed off his embrace. “Then tell me,” he said as he sat on your bed.

“What if you died?” You said bluntly. “Well… that’s being optimistic…” Ace said awkwardly. “I’m serious, what if you died? You really left without me knowing, and sure you made it back safe, but what if next time you’re not so lucky? And I end up finding out my boyfriend died in the middle of the sea, and I couldn’t even say goodbye to him…” you said softly. “Ok, ok… well I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left. Even though you know I’ll always be safe. So, forgive me now?” He smiled. “No, because you’re not taking me seriously!” You groaned. “Why are you still mad at me? I said, " I'm sorry, don’t worry so much!” He yelled back. “I worry because I love you, but if you’re so dense, then just get out! I don’t know why I even put up with you. When it obviously shows how little you care about my feelings!” You shouted as you pushed Ace out of your room. “Wait, (Y/N) I’m sorry! Let’s keep-“ but you cut his words off with the door.

SABO

“Sabo~” you cooed. “Yes (Y/N)?” He replied. “I’m bored, can you please put the book down for a second and let’s go walk around the island or grab something to eat?” You asked hopefully. “Not today, plus you know we’re not supposed to be venturing out when he has to be on duty,” he explained. “I know, but we both get and hour break from standing guard and you’ve been spending each break reading. Can’t we do something, the two of us? Together?” You added. “Why? We’re spending time together right now,” he rolled his eyes.

Your eyes fell to the floor, “Alright,” you said softly as you headed back to the base. “What’s wrong?” Sabo called out. “Nothing, just gonna head inside,” you replied. You heard footsteps behind you, “What’s wrong? Tell me,” he said as he grabbed your arm. “Sabo we’ve been here for 2 weeks and you don’t want to do any normal couple stuff with me? Not even for an hour?” You asked. “(Y/N) you know-“ you cut him off. “Yeah I know, I also know how hard it is to have a relationship in our positions, but that didn't stop you from asking me out… Plus… I’ve seen you go out with Koala on a few occasions, you didn’t seem to have an issue with the rules then,” you glared. He quickly released your arm. “Hold on, you’re misunderstanding that (Y/N). You know Koala and I-“ you cut him off once again. “I know, but it doesn't mean you’re off having fun with another girl. While your real girlfriend is stuck here watching you read a book,” you said softly before turning on your heels and heading back towards the base.

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just-null · 6 months ago

Note

Plz… do you have any yandere clone crumbs (or headcanons even)? I love this trope lmao

YOUR CULT LEADER IS SO GLAD YOU ASKED

[LONG yandere ramblings under the cut!]

THESE ARE ALL RANDOM STREAMS OF THOUGHTS. THERE'S NO ORDER. ALSO I'M NOT A WRITER SO FORGIVE ANY ERRORS!!!

General

They're all interested in the same type of person for different reasons. So if you catch the interest of one, you'll soon catch the interest of the others.

The clones are also pathological liars like the main body.

They're scrappy unfair fighters.

They'd all have a common trait of imposing themselves into your life. Whether or not you want to see them, they'll always pop up uninvited.

That and being disgustingly clingy to the point you can barely breathe without one of them there to share your air.

Their violence varies, but rest (un)assured that it is always an option for them, yes, even Hantengu.

Even if different, sometimes it really shows that they're a single unit.. sooner or later, your hands will be full with a bunch of annoying, needy, lying, terrible, and problematic assholes.

They're all more intense than the average human. To them, a human life is as insignificant as an ant. They'd kill someone for the hell of it, or if it's an order from Muzan. That view doesn't change much if you're in the picture.

Now it's just a matter of not scaring you too much, hence, Hantengu’s chronic lying problem. They want to be the ones you rely and lean on. to feel comfortable with! Don't mind the blood. It's not like you haven't seen it on them before!

Relax, they truly never want to hurt you!!

Hantengu

Starting off with our man of the hour, Hantengu. He's aligned with delusional and obsessive types of yanderes, one who's too afraid to approach you but watches you from afar nonetheless.

You'd have to make an effort to find him since he'd most likely be shrunk into his tiny form and hidden in some small crevice.

It started off as a simple fascination. You probably made contact with him in his human disguise (accidental or not.) As he cowered, you were pretty decent.

It was a surprising but welcoming change of pace from the usual villains who'd try to harm him, but he still fled from you. He was going to eat you no doubt, but he kept putting it off until he lost his appetite.

He's terrified you might do something to him, that you'll hurt him! but the attention you gave him makes him yearn for your company. He wants to watch you all the time and quite literally, will do just that.

Hantengu's there when you wake up and when you go to bed. He's living somewhere in your home. Always watching.

With the ability to shrink very small and run extremely fast, you'd think you might have rats in your home. Each time you think you hear a snap, the rat traps always end up broken to pieces.

He sends his clones in his stead to test the waters after getting far too worried once you leave his sight. If you don't hurt them, then he'll know you're not so bad! Still won't approach, but a bit more calm when he's "around." or when they invade your life.

Assuming the clones never stray too far from the main body (if they're physically able to or not, doesn't really matter) they never want to leave Hantengu unprotected, which means your home is the main base.

You can move, try running away, get help, or whatever, but it's all futile because Hantengu will hide in your items meaning the others will always end up finding you with him.

it's a rule of thumb for the Hantengus not to mention him for safety reasons and because he's already terrified as is and any unwarranted attention is probably bad... He'd be horrified to be under your gaze for long, which is why he prefers you with your eyes closed.

Hantengu is like your sleep paralysis demon. At the dead of night, he peeks out from wherever he's hiding and watches you.

With demonic speed, any flinch or shuffle from you has him hiding again, but if you awaken and keep your eyes closed, you can hear faint crying and sniffling while you slumber.

If it makes you uncomfortable or ruins your sleep, Hantengu doesn't put two and two together, it can't possibly be him. What a travesty..!

It'd be difficult to try and make contact since he's always watching from the sidelines or cowering and hiding away, but it'll get easier eventually when it's drilled into him that you won't be like the people he's met.

He genuinely believes that the world is full of evil villains that may hurt you, so if he sees someone that worries him, the clones will zero in on them.

Hantengu has a dangerously powerful influence on them.. combine that with his victim complex? terrible.

Sometimes all Hantengu needs is a single seed of doubt to be implanted in his mind before he's lying to everyone and deluding himself that you're getting manipulated.

That's when his clones step in, scouting out the place for the possible source of the problem. That or pick off random people one by one before you're back in their arms!

But it's not his fault that you're surrounded by overprotective, suffocating freaks! Trust!!

The upside is if you meet him, he's extremely docile. He doesn't do much aside from cower and weep, begging you not to hurt him. Attempts to hide are futile if you tell him to stay... like a deer caught in headlights. ironic.

One of the others are probably always in the room, if not all of them, making your interactions even more awkward.

Once Hantengu warms up to the idea of having you know about his existence, you'd mostly find him in the pockets of your clothes or in areas where your trinkets would be strewn about.

It’s highly unlikely that he’d be violent in front of you, but that doesn't mean that the others won't be, (for his and your safety they say) Hantengu just cries about things or trembles at most with every sound making him flinch, huddling behind you in some way.

Hantengu often forgets he can go to his full height, usually being the size of your foot or smaller. If he's tiny, you'll see how he's a really harmless and defenseless victim of the world!

Nevermind how you sometimes catch the scent of blood coming from your home, only to find him cowering at the scene of a crime.

Depending on your demeanor, you're either a victim like him so you MUST stick together, or you're his savior.

He feels that safety and contentment when around you, but would rather stay on the side lines than risk anything. It's as if watching you do your daily routine is his stress relief.

It's absolutely awful if you're in danger or out of his line of sight for long. No reports from one of his clones? No most recent update to your whereabouts? No one is with you to inform him!?

Full panic attacks and inconsolable babbling about how you must be dead!! The world is so cruel and awful to him!!!

These types of reactions agitate the others, making them more worried if they're also in the dark. It's possible Hantengu would use Urami to go and find you himself in these rare instances. It'd be a disaster, but at least he'd have peace of mind..

At least you don't have to worry about Hantengu being jealous though. He's pretty tame, too focused on being afraid of everything else. The others handle his jealousy for him so that he doesn't worry.

Sekido

A mixture of highly jealous and possessive type, secretly protective as well! A mean tsundere is what you usually see, if not his common form of verbal abuse if he's too worked up.

The subtle flush on his cheeks takes the edge off his words if it's directed at you even if he blames it on being red in the face with anger because of you or [x] reason.

First impressions were probably that you were extremely annoying and would suggest eating you to the others whenever a situation arose. Thankfully the others prevented that from happening.

Sekido is one out of the two who'd accidentally hurt you. He never means to, but he forgets his own strength. In the beginning, instead of trusting you to follow him, he'd grab your wrist and drag you around with him to wherever he needed to be.

You could run away when he's not looking and cause an unwanted commotion, so it's best to have you on a tight leash leading to bruising sometimes..

Out of all of them, Sekido needed the most time to warm up to you. When he'd realized he'd fallen for you, he'd already be cursing at himself for being so blind to it earlier.

It started off as moments where his irritation calmed then snowballed into a bliss he only knows if he's by your side.

You'd think he genuinely hates your guts at times. The way he gets so angry and harshly insults you can take a toll. If he senses he's cut you deep, he still won't apologize verbally.

Knowing himself, saying anything would only hurt you more, he's too rough with phrasing that it wouldn't sound genuine. How is it his fault that you're so fragile?

Sekido has too much pride, but a lot of it is in constant conflict with his love for you. It's what gets him so frustrated when thinking about it. You make him feel disgustingly mushy inside, and he wants to tear out his heart and tell it to get a grip.

He probably doesn't speak to you for a few days, instead choosing to act while you're not looking to regain favor.

Making food you'd like, inviting you to spend time indoors, buying you small gifts, and even cleaning up around your place. Wordless actions that come off as apologies for his temper that he’ll make SURE won't go unnoticed.

If you confront him, he huffs with his back towards you as if it were nothing but takes credit for it regardless.

Sure, he's the oldest, but Sekido still has his moments of immaturity like the other three. If he had it his way, he'd refuse to let anyone speak to you, almost isolating you, so his acts of service really shine through.

What if someone tries getting your favor by taking advantage of his supposed mistakes? It's extremely insulting that anyone would even dare try! Infuriating even!

The only people he'd allow you to speak with are his clones and main body. But like everything, it depends on his mood or the situation.

Is it REALLY necessary to talk to someone else when Sekido is RIGHT THERE?? No. It's not. Now shut up and eat the sweets he got you.

Sekido doesn't do PDA, but violence will always be on the table, never hesitating if someone gets near you, or looks at you too long.

He says he's the best clone to take when going out, but he’s punched too many bystanders as a warning far too many times... You're lucky if he simply verbally abuses someone until they're crying or humiliated.

You can say the handsome man with the red eyes has grown a reputation in town.

You also gain a reputation as someone who’s EXTREMELY off limits, dangerous even. While Sekido isn't as affectionate or sweet as the others, the things he lets slide when it comes to you make it obvious that you're his favorite person.

“Are you trying to die? Even insects have more survival instincts than you.” and all you did was bump into him. Sekido dusts himself off and gives you a once over, subtly making sure you're okay before he continues with whatever he was doing.

Were it anyone else, he would’ve swung his staff at them for even getting near him.

You're given special treatment because, to Sekido, you ARE special. On rare occasions, he'll even verbalize his fondness for you, even if it's worded as if he were reprimanding.

Just don't be so blind to the hints he's throwing at you and he won't have to beat your face in.. specifically your lips with his lips, very roughly, until you're both bruised and breathless.

When Sekido needs to be away from you for whatever reason, he knows you're okay. He entrusts you to the others in his absence, but his mind starts wandering to how he misses your hands on his..

It's different remembering it and seeing it, if you were there, you could touch him and he could reciprocate. It'd be even better if you were both alone—and now, someone’s interrupting his thoughts.

Frustration bubbles up and he's ready to snap at someone. What could be so damn important!?

If Sekido comes back with blood on his person, just don't ask, he's already annoyed and he's seeking solace with you.

You flip a switch in him. Your warmth, your presence, your voice, it’s like serenity to his vexed soul. He sits comfortably beside you when he has to plan for something.

It helps him think clearly but, he doesn't let go of your wrist..

His grip is unnaturally tight too, so you're stuck there unless you want to risk Sekido getting frustrated again because his personified peace wants to get up and do something, at least, that's what he says.

Even if it holds some truth, when you whittle Sekido down enough, he confesses that, in a weird way, he's constantly worried for you.

You're not as strong as them and he knows this, but it's clear as day when he's calm enough.

Not that he needs to, but Sekido takes the responsibility for not only keeping himself alive, but Hantengu and more importantly you.

If anything were to happen to you, he doesn't know what he'd do. So instead he acts as the most aggressive guard dog ever and keeps any unknown presence as far from you as possible.

Moments of peace with you don't happen often for him, so please stay a while longer? The others will barge in any minute now, so indulge him a little until then?

And don't speak a word about it to anybody or else he’ll destroy your home and everything inside it!

Karaku

Extremely self aware, obsessive type. He knows how to properly court someone, that everything they're doing crosses many lines, but this way is much more entertaining.

You were just another random face in the beginning that he just shrugs and tries to find enjoyment in by tormenting, but as he interacts more with you, he finds it more invigorating than anything else.

He starts going easier on you, opting for just teasing. Dragging you into spending time with him is surprisingly more fun than a battle lately..

Whether you like him back or not isn't even important. As long as you have SOME level of affection for him and don't forget to give him some attention, he's satisfied.

Everything is fun when it comes to you and while he'd IDEALLY like you to reciprocate his feelings and be obsessed with him, he just needs an inch for the mile he'll take!

It's not like he will actively make you hate him, but he'll definitely try coaxing you into things you might not be eager for.

I doubt there's much that can upset him in general, much less if it's you. You're so attractive and entertaining to him, all your reprimands and insults go in one ear and out the other.

He laughs and agrees to whatever you said, brushing it off, then tries nudging you into moving on and doing something that doesn't upset you! Like doing him!

O-or.. if you're not in the mood right now, that's fine. There's a bunch of other fun stuff that you two can do!

With all that, Karaku's still aware that you'd be uncomfortable with him shoving all his affection onto you, getting possessive, and even beating some people up for the hell of it.

But he also knows people can learn to get used to things they can't escape and get desensitized, so he attempts to do just that and ease you into your new life!

He's still affectionate, it's Karaku! He doesn't force you into anything too intimate. Physical touch may be his go-to, but holding you and hugging you is the most he'd do unless he gets hints that he may be allowed to do more.

Out of everyone, he's the most relaxed, which isn't saying much. If you say you're going somewhere he hears we’re going somewhere, but at least you can go near strangers without him hurting anyone.

When spending time with the others, he knows he can just butt in, or do something that'll force your attention on him. Even if people try talking to you, he's not upset, just amused.

Very confident Karaku is.. any attempt someone tries with you is hilarious to him since he knows you're likely to reject them. He only gets slightly miffed if YOU'RE the one coming onto others.

“Oi~ You're really greedy, you have all of me and yet you still want other's attention? ..How about you try convincing me a little and I won't make that much of a fuss, yeah?” as if he's not always trying to hold you in the most PDA way possible…

Karaku loves to show off how he's taken even if it makes you embarrassed. You're cute when flustered anyway so that's just another plus!

When you're gone he's sooo~ bored. It reminds him of that itch he had before he met you where life was too dull and he needed that stimulation only chaos could provide.

Unfortunately, chaos is like a storm, and the clouds dissipate eventually. So what does he do? Create his own storms, of course!

Karaku is a renowned pleasure seeker, sexual or not. Since he met you, the sexual part is reserved, so he's usually seeking fun in terms of mischief, adrenaline rushes, or destruction.

Starting problems on purpose by provoking others to the point of a fight is his favorite especially if he can blow down buildings.

Some dishonorable mentions that aren't fighting are planting gross items into bags, spreading rumors, giving false information, and turning people against one another.

Overall things that would make you regret letting him out of your sight.

Karaku likes to make himself more appealing to you by boasting about small things. It could be the bare minimum, but you wouldn't know if he's exaggerating any tiny details!

Hearing your tastes and interests will have him leaning into that, but he's not going to change himself completely.

He's confident he can worm his way into your heart by being himself.

You should give him praise sometime! He didn't tease Sekido and make him so upset he blew a fuse. And! He didn't toy with anyone’s life before killing them this time! He also only used his uchiwa twice. max. and no buildings collapsed completely..

See? He's not that bad of a guy! You should trust him more, you'll hurt his feelings..!

He's the one who will also flirt with you the most, leaving lingering touches and casually inviting you for some bedroom fun. You could be in the middle of dinner and he'd ask if you're up for it later as if it's a casual thing between you two.

This guy.. he really REALLY likes you touching him.. from his hair to his arms, to his chest, and down his legs, whatever you want is yours. But it also makes him more reserved in a way?

Someone tapping his shoulder gets him a little miffed. It's like someone is touching something of yours. Whatever, getting your hands all over him should fix that right up.

Karaku is an interesting case.. He portrays himself as an open book, but there's so much more than he lets on.

He makes mental notes of things you like and strictly hate, secretly helps balance everyone’s jealousy so you don't get burnt out, always there when you need him most, and is second to tend to you if Aizetsu isn't around.

Serious situations aren't his style, he’ll always try to be playful to lighten the mood, but you can see his ear twitch when he notices something’s wrong.

He's the second oldest after all, so he has the capability to be mature if he wants to.

But being a stick in the mud is Sekido’s job, so he works around it in his own pleasurable way!

There’s times even when he likes to take things slow and enjoy the moment with you around. Pleasure can be relaxation. While he loves being out and about, a nice quiet evening with you can be fun too.. even if he has to push you around a little too make it happen.

He likes how you make him feel whole, like he's not chasing after the unattainable satisfaction that's so close but so far.

Urogi

Intoxicated delusional type... Urogi believes you wouldn't do anything to hurt him on purpose and finds joy in your “shyness.” If you were to reject him or push him away, he laughs very loudly, “reassuring” you.

First impressions were pretty tense. He'd eye you like he's waiting for you to step wrong before feasting. Like those fangs suggest, he's a humanity's predator first and foremost and he wanted to keep it that way.

At least, he thought so until he played with his food too much and got attached.

You later begin to be like a drug to him. He NEEDS you. Whether it be within earshot, field of vision, or (preferably) within arm's reach. If not, he gets super fidgety, nervous, restless. Can't sit still.

Similar to Hantengu except he begins getting impulsive and violent with anything or anyone around the longer you're away.

Usually, he thinks twice about slicing anything with his talons when you're around, he's too happy with your attention and knows you're pretty squishy! But if you're gone, the blood splatters make him feel better!

He misses you! Come back!! There are scratches and tossed furniture everywhere because Urogi attempted to calm himself with things that smell like you. Everything's just a mess, but he at least greets you the second you get home.

Cuddly and excitable! He'd tackle you in a hug and swing you around, or cling to you with his full body until you both tip over. Urogi likes your scent and warmth.

It's comforting, so he's constantly near you and touching you, sometimes fighting with the others cause he wants his turn.

Similar to Sekido, you're like a switch that flips to excited when you make contact of any kind, so it's not uncommon to find him clamoring to sit on your lap or lay his head somewhere on you when he sees you.

Again, like Sekido, Urogi can get jealous to the same levels as him. However, whereas Sekido would be violent and aggressive, Urogi is whiny and clingy.

It's almost funny how he’s the one whose mood shifts the quickest. Even compared to Aizetsu, he's more likely to cry, or compared to Sekido, he'd lash out about something small.

But as his main emotion states, he'll always revert back to his gleeful self.

One second, he's complaining because you've been “ignoring” him for too long [three minutes] but cheers up if you so much as graze his skin, “Hahaha!! Okay, I forgive you!! Can we go out now? Oh! Oh! How about a kiss?!”

Joy may be better than when Urogi's upset, but it's still... pretty shameless like Karaku, except Urogi doesn't WANT to embarrass you on purpose.

He's got a loud voice and a one-track mind with you. Begging and asking isn't out of the realm of possibility for him either.

Something you can count on with these four is that they're honest in their feelings for you.

Urogi, being the one who's extremely raw in showing it, talks from the heart with no brain. What you see is what you get. Most of the time...

Urogi, like the others, has his moments of dishonesty, but it’s not his fault! He wants your love constantly so bends the truth about needing you in some type of way or that he was bullied!!!

He has a headache, take care of him! Oh, his left wing hurts, pet it for him, please? His feathers have been really bothering him lately, preen him? Yes, you did so yesterday, but they're bothering him again!! Also, Sekido was really mean for no reason again, stay with him so he doesn't get yelled at again!!

With how much he thrives under your attention, you'd wonder how he reacts with people who aren't you. Well, it's simple, if its not a fight, he leads back to you!

If someone ever talks to Urogi long enough there's a 90% chance he'll mention “someone” and ignore whatever they say.

When you're not the subject of the convo, he brings you up, interrupting the other's train of thought. Annoyingly so..

It gets particularly messy if he's conversing with the other three because then they'd forget about the original topic and get swept up with missing you instead.

Even the hobbies he has that aren't you, remind him of you.. in albeit concerning ways..

He likes to eat fleshy meat, but he gets reminded of how your skin feels under his hands. It'd be more flattering if he wasn't literally ripping the flesh off of something with his fangs, but he means well.

Sharing things he likes is a sign of love, right? That's why he brings you gifts! ..Like a cat bringing its owner dead mice except this cat is five foot nine and way more dangerous..

and the dead mice are limbs that can get you arrested............

It's terrifying to wake up to a mysterious blob of red meat, especially when Urogi says “It's the only thing that kinda resembles what it used to be!” but laughs in your face instead of explaining further.

A tongue was probably the most concerning thing that still had its original shape, but not surprising.

Urogi is unfortunately way too damn strong. He's the second one to accidentally hurt you after Sekido, his talons are extremely sharp and sometimes dig into you when he gets too excited. He tries not to, but even passing by he can nick you.

Bandages are difficult for him to grab with his talons, and he feels terrible afterward, so he licks your wounds clean if you let him. Sure, it won't do much, but at least your blood smells delicious, and it makes him happy tasting it!

Right, this isn't about him, right!

There's something almost innocent about how Urogi acts with you. Even if you hate his guts, he’d still treat you like treasure. He can't bring himself to hate you no matter what you do.

He’ll get annoyed at times when you're too “coy,” sure, but never more than that or for long.

He can be a handful, but you can tell he tries to give you a good happy relationship. One that he hopes makes you feel the same unending joy he feels even if it's a bit traumatic.

Aizetsu

Manipulative and stalking type. Aizetsu wants to get tasks over with as fast as possible. he doesn't have any motivation for it. He's tired and sad and wants to curl up into a ball and lay down.

First time meeting, Aizetsu didn't even spare you a glance. If you weren't food or a threat, then you might as well have been a poor wall or weird tree.

Giving him a taste of pampering is probably what slowly melted his cold walls.

Now that he has you, it's strange. He WANTS to get up and do things with you. The weight on his shoulders isn't as heavy when you're around. He wants to keep you near him always and if he has to be pathetic to do that, then he'll do it.

Sending cute sad glances your way, sighing after each word as if its tiring to breathe, constantly leaning or holding onto your clothes, whatever makes him look like he'd die without you is what he'll do.

Aizetsu is more than capable like the other three if not the most. it's just that he doesn't need to do it, so he doesn't want to.

He purposely makes himself out like he's the “good” one, but he's just quieter. Unlike Karaku's boasting, Aizetsu wants you to see the worst in others so it makes himself look better by comparison.

Making others or himself seem pathetic is his strong suit, sometimes making his counterparts the brunt of that pity.

That or he takes a page out of Karaku's handbook and stirs the pot so they do the job for him. Sometimes they involve Aizetsu if they find out which makes him sad...

He pouts, looking at his counterparts fighting, and tells you how it's such a pity you're stuck with a rowdy bunch like them while knowing full well that he muttered something under his breath about Karaku mocking Sekido to make Urogi laugh while passing by.

It didn't happen, but it could've... it's okay, just stay with Aizetsu on the sidelines while they tucker themselves out.

Speaking of that, Aizetsu seldom lets you go. Like the others, he loves touching you, but the others let go eventually from some form of hyperactivity.

Aizetsu.. doesn't. His hand is always firmly grasping some part of your clothes while you walk, but if you're not using your arm, he'll hold that for you too.

You can try shaking him off, but it really wouldn't do anything except make him frown and grip tighter. You could ditch your clothes, it'll stun him for a moment until he's pouting again, but he’ll let you go.

Unfortunately you probably won't get your discarded clothes back for a while even if you apologize.

That and he’ll cling on again in five minutes if he's near. It's a force of habit.

Aizetsu's the strongest physically of the four, but tries his best to seem weak around you so you can spoil and love him more.

The second you leave him to figure out his own issues, you usually hear a loud thump then crack followed by Aizetsu's soft footsteps rushing to follow behind you.

Even with his crazy strength, he's the second least likely to spill blood.

Not because he's guilty or anything, don't be silly, but because he doesn't want to put effort into cleaning himself up, so you'll embrace him again. If you didn't care, then he'd be a bit messier.

Then again, he doesn't like how the dried blood feels in his hair, and he doubts he can get away with making you wash it for him every time.

Aizetsu is constantly upset, but he's not openly emotional aside from his usual declarations of sorrow. He doesn't cry easily, being in a constant state of sadness makes everything numb at some point, so it's something he expresses privately..

or, to persuade you into feeling bad for him further.

“Pitying others is only natural, but don't forget you have someone waiting for you always. I'd wither away without you.” He says that, but the others never see him waiting for anything when you're out.. Why? Because he never leaves you.

Sometimes you think you see a blue reflection from the corner of your eyes, but you check and nothing. Feeling like you're watched has been a constant lately since meeting the clones. Hopefully, it's just nerves.

But it's not!

Behind wall corners, in the shadows, amongst crowds, in closets, Aizetsu's always there. Watching with that same sorrowful pout. As mentioned earlier, he doesn't feel demotivated when doing things for you.

He's making sure you're safe and gathering more information. He wants to be precise when around you. How are you when you think they're not around? He'll find out. He always does.

Not that you notice much... He doesn't throw tantrums when you need to part from him like the others, only simple, “Really? Where are you going..?” and that's all for protesting. He's the “good one,” remember? He won't stop you.

Aizetsu gets a little sloppy with hiding his hobby(?) when he doesn't react to the new things and stories you intended to tell him. As if listening to a story again.

He's lucky he doesn't speak much or he would've filled in the details of the story you forgot about.

The downside of following you is that Aizetsu gets approached sometimes. Annoying... He's so gloomy, that he's sometimes approached by kind bystanders to check up on him.

He doesn't speak to anyone as much anymore, only responding with nods and head shakes unless he's pitying someone. He's only “chatty” with you and his clones, more so you.

A tired look crosses his face when someone's being particularly bothersome. Say, the authorities or an insistent stranger for example.

If you were with him, he'd look at you to fix it, but since you're not, he'll handle it himself. i.e. a precise swift jab to the throat that'll get them to keel over long enough for him to scamper somewhere else.

Zohakuten

Conflicting love hating attention seeker.. He can't help but hate how your mere presence makes the others and himself worse versions of themselves, but he can see why. Having your attention is like basking in the warmth of the sun again..

He rarely shows up, only when the four are panicked and desperate, but the first time is probably extremely tense........ he'd reprimand you for screwing up the minds of his clones and scaring the main body constantly.

He doesn't separate, wanting to see what the big deal is. Having Zohakuten follow you around or dragging you places while getting insulted, you're mostly babysitting him at this point.

He may not be a child in the usual sense, but he definitely uses his appearance to benefit himself. Big eyes, grumpy frown with his chubby cheeks and that usually gets people to believe him if he's lucky.

It's whiplash inducing when Zohakuten's face and way of speaking don't match (it's easy to forget that all these freaks have the mentality of an over two hundred year old man.) He uses an older way of speaking and their inflections.

He's not free from the common ground that is wanting your attention even if he's almost always complaining that you're the source of their corruption. yet he still doesn't try getting rid of you aside from a couple insults. Though it can get annoying when he's constantly on your case.

Zohakuten is extremely defensive of the main body. Hesitating when it comes to him isn't a problem. He's like Sekido where he punches as a warning in that sense.

He's very kind with Hantengu, and surprisingly you who now falls under the category of needing protection.

Hatred is part of his nature so if you're alone with him, that hatred focuses on you, but it's mixed with affection. He only really huffs at you and occasionally tries swatting you when you get too affectionate.

He's critical of his older clone counterparts.

If there were a setting where Zohakuten coexisted with his them , he'd be very antagonistic even if it's to a lesser degree than opponents. He's going against them then complaining to you about it so you can be careful of their misdeeds!

He sees their actions as the main reason Hantengu gets bullied and falsely persecuted. they fool around too much instead of doing their job properly that it grinds Zohakuten's gears..

He'd probably call Karaku and Urogi manwhores for showing off so much skin. Sekido and Aizetsu are on thin ice but they'd still get called harlots for wearing their collars so open.

You're probably not free from his berating either but he excludes the derogatory insults.

Similar to Tanjiro in that one scene with Mitsuri, Zohakuten would grab your clothes and adjust it to be more modest. He can't have animals like those pigs looking at you!!!

That being said, Zohakuten is much more manageable compared to dealing with four smothering men.

Still.. he's less likely to listen to you and has a short fuse that can cause problems out of nothing. Plus, he's much MUCH stronger than what you'd be used to.

Luckily, there's moments when he tuckers himself out and he's quietly following you like a cat. He doesn't speak much then but glares at anything and anyone who gets too close.

He might look pettable, but don't do it or he might both claw at you and get a second wind.

It's best to stay alone with Zohakuten for as long as he's around. If someone else makes him or Hantengu upset, he'd focus his hatred into them and make up some deluded reason as to why they have to die.

They'll harm Hantengu first if they're allowed to live!! It'll be swift, but he can't promise it'll be clean.

It's pretty easy to get Zohakuten to get violent. it only really takes someone getting close to you or Hantengu until he's acting faster than you noticed he moved.

He doesn't really care if you get scared, it's all for the greater good. you're just spooked because his methods were taboo, but it's fine. Now all of you are safe..

He really likes trees and forests, so taking walks around there might be the safest bet.

Zohakuten wouldn't be as cuddly, more so because of some pride of holding himself up as the strongest pillar for Hantengu, but there are moments where he sighs and leans his head against you.

Being alone with you, Hantengu, and the peace of nature puts his mind at ease in a way it's not built for. Even his wood dragons come along, bellowing quietly and making the whole environment uncommonly calm. like he's almost a normal kid.

Serenity isn't forever of course and you must part from him eventually. It's not like he'll make it easy by any means though. His brattiness shines through here where he hides some essentials of yours that make it impossible for you to leave.

Your shoes, outdoor clothes, utilities, anything that'll make your life more difficult so you'll stay home. Yes, he knows you have a life outside, but he doesn't like it when you come home smelling different. It's concerning!

If you somehow manage to escape, you'll only see his hateful eyes from his safe spot in the darkness. Throughout the day, the occasional concern chill creeps up, and coming home reveals why.

It's a disaster. Everything is trashed and turned over in what looks to be a tornado hit. Except the tornado was just a small tyrant sulking in your bedroom. The tantrum didn't comfort him at all and all he wants is you.

When you come back, he's berating you and calling you the worst person imaginable! He grabs your arms tightly then nearly crushes your ribs in a hug.

He doesn't apologize, but helps clean up after he's done, wanting to spend time with you. It wasn't the same without you and he loathes how the difference is so tangible now.

It's unfair how he's tasked to protect you too, but now that he's met you, there's specific conditions that need to be met to be allowed to see you again. He's not here for long and people around you get to meet you whenever they'd like. it's really not fair!

Maybe after a while, Zohakuten would learn not to act first if you PROMISED to keep your interactions with others to a minimum.

Even If you don't, he'll remind you by cutting your conversation or starting an argument that'll quickly get lethal if not stopped in time.

The way this guy swears like a sailor is incredible. Very foul mouthed. He talks bad about people, even sometimes to their face. It's also painfully accurate. Zohakuten can really cut deep with his words alone.. even be problematic

so fingers crossed he doesn't slight the wrong person.

While he doesn't really need to, he tries getting you small trinkets to keep so he's with you when he's separated.

All stolen of course, or so the woman from the market says, but it's not true! he made it himself, what kind of person would spread lies like that?!

Note: Zohakuten is a platonic yandere. Like the boyfriend's bratty younger brother who likes you so he cock blocks everyone to hang out with you trope

You can try asking for help, but people have seen what they're like without you.. they're like a blender without a cap. The contents will go everywhere, and it'll be chaos. UNLESS, the blender has its cap, you.

With a heavy heart, people usually give you sympathetic glances if you ever do interact briefly and quick words of comfort if they can. at least you're well taken care of by those freaks.

i love them all theyre awful.....

Tl;Dr

Hantengu is delusional and obsessed, where he thinks you'll harm him if he gets too close, but can't stay away from you for long or else he freaks himself out Sekido is the jealous possessive mother fucker who's very rude but surprisingly gives you extremely special treatment. Karaku is the obsessed self aware one, but that's wasted because he loves causing problems on purpose and embarrassing you with love. Urogi is the Intoxicated delusional one because you gotta be delusional to be as happy as this guy.. also animalistic. Too raw about his feelings........ Aizetsu is the manipulative stalker. He acts like he's the good boy when he's just as shit as the others who also somehow knows everything about you. Zohakuten is the love-hate attention seeker. it infuriates him how you "wont leave his main body alone," but he secretly thrives on your attention and will cock block at every point and time.

#null rot #yandere hantengu #hantengu clones #hantengu #sekido #karaku #urogi #aizetsu #zohakuten #yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #i fear i was all over the place #DO YOU SEE MY VISION?? OH MY FUCK IVE BEEN WAITING TO YAP #GOD. AGAIN IM SORRY IF THIS IS EVERYWHERE. I DONT EVER JOT DOWN MY THOUGHTS #FUCK I KEPT WANTING TO HAVE SIMILAR WORD COUNTS BUT I NEVER SHUT THE FUKC UP AGHGHGHH #LISTEN MAN they're sO perfect as yanderes. they're so similar to each other but distinctly different.#Having a core emotion fuel most of their decisions and reactions is the perfect way to hook in your cult leader #the hantengu and zo were added for those few lovers of them out there. i also really like them #i left the relationship with hantengu ambiguous for those gilf hunters out there. it can be read as romantic or platonic!#AND LIKE BRO THEYRE ALL JUST SO FUCKING ANNOYINGLY CLINGY I HATE HOW THEYRE SO CARING YET NOT AT THE SAME TIME....... BRO SHUT THE FUCK UPP #ITS ABOUT THEIR POSSIBLE NUANCES BRO.... I DONT WANT TO HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM BUT THE **PARASITES** THEY CRAVE BRAIN ROT #GYAHHHHHH THEYRE ALL SO GOO D WHY ARE THEY ONLY SHOWN SO LITTLE.... FUCK!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i'm a sappy bitch. call me dom from fast in the furious. i love these stupid mother fuckers fighting and working together for you #THEYRE ALL BROTHER CODED #AS FOR THAT DRAWING I IMAGINE THEYRE HEAD TURNERS. THE MOST GORGEOUS GUYS EVER BUT THEIR PERSONALITIES ARE SO UNAPPROACHABLE... IM CRYING #yandere is just a twisted and more intense form of love...... hell yeah theres some nuiances there #i was playing with colors. i hope nothing looks strange!

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xoxochb · 6 months ago

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cw: from this request (I couldn’t respond), fingering, jealous/possesive! luke (n he’s mean ☹️), orgasm denial, this is lwk shortttt…

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

only out of the goodness of your heart were you helping a fellow camper. the boy had been fairly new to camp, still learning the general hang of things. you had met him at breakfast one morning, you were both running late and ended up talking for a while. he had explained to you that he was unable to sword fight with other campers because of his inexperienced nature, and you so kindly had offered to help him with this. just a regular camper-helping other camper kind of ordeal— that’s all it was.

unfortunately, your through the eyes of your boyfriend you and the boy had been practically making out shamelessly in the middle of the field! the boy was just ‘all over you,’ and ‘giving you heart eyes’ the whole time, which are both direct quotes straight from the mouth of luke. you denied both and told him you had simply been helping the boy out since he was desperately in need of it. he didn’t believe a word of what you said, and though he knew you were loyal, that didn’t stop him from being any more angry. why would you let that boy openly flirt with you?

good question— he didn’t care. and that was shown solely when his fingers traveled teasingly over your thigh, just only lightly hitting your wet entrance, not daring to do anything further just yet, enjoying the way you’re entirely at his mercy.

“please…” you whine. in response, luke only peppers a kiss to your clavicle. “please.”

“why were you helping him?”

fucking gods.

“I told you,” you swallow thickly. “he- he needed it.”

“does he know you’re mine?”

you nod at a rapid pace, in only hopes he’ll give you what you desire.

“use your words, angel, c’mon.”

“he does- luke, please.”

just this once he allows you to get what you want— next time it isn’t this easy. he inserts one finger, your velvety walls nearly instantly clenching around him. you’re desperate aren’t you? it’s hopeless. the worst part is, he’s barely doing anything, teasing, and you know why, you know exactly why. you quietly murmur pleads for him to pick up the speed and it’s not that he can’t hear you— he can, he’s just choosing to pretend you’re not speaking at all. with one hand, you tug roughly at his curls, fisting then so tightly in your palms.

he gets your memo, he plugs in his middle finger alongside the other. you let a moan slip from your lips, pathetic. you feel your skin heating up, burning. then, he curls your fingers to such a sweet extent, nearly tipping you over an edge. an edge he’ll deny you until you understand that you’re his. your eyes prickle with angry tears.

“please, let me- luke, please-”

“please what?”

you rock your hips into his fingers, in hope for any sort of friction or pleasure you can receive for now.

“y’know… I don’t like when you’re seeing other boys…”

“I don’t-” you can’t breathe, that’s your problem. “don’t like him.”

“you’re mine, got that?”

“yes I- I’m yours!”

“I don’t think you get it, though…” luke’s fingers slow their pace, you let out an involuntarily whimper at this.

“please!” you repeat the word more than you could count, endlessly murmuring it in hopes he’ll simply let you have it (which he doesn’t). “please, luke, I won’t- hm- won’t help other boys, please.”

he doesn’t even respond to this. just progressively and torturously slows the pace of his fingers with every beg escaping your mouth. until, this is, they part from you.

he’s got to be fucking kidding you.

(spoiler warning: he’s not).

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #luke castellan fic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #percy jackson x reader #riordan universe #riordanverse #riordanverse x reader

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eloquentlytired · 8 months ago

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18+ mdni

— his problem

pairing: old!logan howlett x fem short!reader tags: public sex — rough sex — unresolved feelings — tension — slight angst — old man logan doesn't run away upon hearing the words I love you ( shook! ) — he just needs a little therapy — he also likes calling you princess! — soft ending summary: you run away after you deem yourself a problem to logan, charles and caliban. of course a man like logan doesn't let that slide and you're to realize why once he finds you. author's note: i wrote this faster than a uni assignment so if u spot any mistakes i apologize im kneeling on the ground and pleading 4 forgiveness ( not really ). ENJOYYYY and as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

ৎৎৎ

the rain is rough and heavy on your skin but it doesn't stop you from running away. you were a burden to them — to logan, caliban and charles. they already had so many problems and you were just an addition to that list.

charles wouldn't agree. logan simply wouldn't show it. and well... caliban was caliban. he was just being realistic sometimes with his words but it wasn't his purpose to hurt you.

you heard yelling from a distance — it was like angry roaring. logan.

you tried to speed up the pace and run faster, your sundress clinging on you like second skin. you were soaked to the bone and your vision was getting hectic because of the many droplets staining your eyelashes.

one more blink and logan was suddenly running behind you — despite how old he'd become, despite his body literally suffering from the inside he had still come out to get you. it was the first time he did and not caliban or even charles.

“stop!” logan yelled at you, struggling to catch up but only a little. you were no mutant or nearly athletic; and you'd been running until now without stopping under the cold rain. your body was silently suffering.

a rough body pushed you on the nearest tree, your chin and your knees scraping against the wet trunk.

logan stood behind you taller and bigger as you struggled to remove yourself from his grip. one of his hands slid to your nape and he held it firmly, shoving your face against the tree. you winced. he growled. “what the hell were you thinking? running away after that everything we've done for you.”

tears prickled at your eyes and you swallowed so they wouldn't fall. not like he'd care. “I— I just wanted to get rid of one of your problems!” you yelled over the rain and logan pressed his mouth on your ear, his knees brushing against the back of yours. “the fuck did you say?” logan asked. or rather growled again.

“i’m a problem; charles loves me but caliban tolerates me and you—” you paused trying to push down another sob. “you despise me, I can sense it. just let me go!”

the grip he had on your nape, that strong veiny arm, was enough to overpower you. even when you thrashed around maniacally and tried to use your limbs to kick back, logan didn't seem the least affected. wild eyes took in the sight of you— your wet clinging sundress, the white panties peaking beneath it and your bare feet. logan was certain you'd have some new wounds there from all that barefoot running. you gasped as his unoccupied hand moved to pull down your panties, letting them pool around your ankles without care.

“logan, what are you—”

“enough. I have let you off the hook too many times. when you talk back, when you don't follow simple orders. when you do that shit at night.” logan was certainly referring to the times you two would argue and then he'd tell you to fuck right off in your room. you'd listen to that order but not without laying in your bed and touching yourself, coming with his name on your lips.

he heard. you knew. logan knew that you knew. and at that very moment, his entire patience for you broke down.

“logan!” one of his arms had put your head in a tight lock, your chin firmly nestled at the inside of his elbow.

he grunted as he fucked you from behind, his cock slipping in and out of your pussy in fast and deep thrusts.

your ass collided against his hips with every thrust and your helpless hands simply held onto the arm that had forced you into this headlock.

“I fucking saved you. I picked you up from the street,I took care of you—” logan grunted as his other hand played with your breasts, teasing a hard bud between experienced fingers. it'd been a while for the both of you but logan definitely knew more than you did.

a certain circular roll of his hips had you wailing and moaning loudly.

“— I fucking did everything so that you survive. and you're trying to leave me?” he couldn't help but feel that ache in his chest, one he hadn't felt in a long time. your body shook with each thrust directed at your weeping core, logan’s tip nudging that sensitive bulge of nerves while stretching you out with hidden intent.

“i'm sorry! I’m so sorry!” you sobbed and logan squeezed your breast painfully hard until you were looking at him with those eyes — hot tears running down your face. the rain kept going. and so did logan with fucking you under it.

your soaked sundress was a mere dirty fabric around your ankles alongside your underwear. logan drove his hips into yours, hissing everytime your pussy would tighten its grip around his cock, just like a damn vine. his white shirt clung onto his body wetly and his trousers were accompanying yours on the ground — around his own ankles.

“you’d really leave? you wouldn't come back?” he grunted in your ear and tightened his hold around your fragile head. every part of you was in fact fragile.

your hands shakily scratched against his arm and your eyes rolled back when some of your oxygen was stolen from you; logan was squeezing around your throat so tight while slamming into your pussy, raw and deep. it was impossible not to slur your words when he fucked you like this. and you enjoyed every moment. “wanted to— help. I wanted to make things easier—" but your words reached no one.

there was something about logan fucking you in the rain in the middle of the forest. you felt the attraction to this and so did he. he liked the way your nails clawed at his arm helplessly and how your asscheeks bounced against his hips. “logan—" you choked on your scream as his pace turned lethal, his cock drilling your insides without mercy. you could feel the slap of his heavy balls against your clit and everything burned. “do I have to be the bad guy? just because I want all of us safe? because I want you to be safe?” his words conveyed his feelings clearly and it was evident that you'd hurt him with your decision.

your head fell helplessly back on his shoulder and you twisted it around enough to look at him. logan followed your gaze and when your eyes met, you kissed. his lips melted against yours as his hand slapped your breasts, making your pussy clench again.

“keep your eyes on me, princess.” he muttered between hot kisses and you obeyed. it was a different experience to have logan like this, messy beard rubbing against your face while those tired eyes gazed into yours as he filled you up.

“i love you.” you mumbled against his lips and logan slipped his cock out just to force it back inside, your gummy walls spasming around his thickness. you expected him to get mad but logan simply kissed you again while wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you like that as he plunged his cock inside your wetness.

a few thrusts later you were coming around his girth, squeezing him so tight and the situation was just too dangerous for him to continue. “gotta pull out, princess.” he rasped but you squeezed around him in response while pushing your hips back, your intentions very clear.

those eyes looked up at him and fuck he really was a weak man. the weakest if you will.

logan came inside you with a shudder, stumbling forward until your body was squished between the tree trunk and his chest. “princess.” he grunted again and his hips melted into yours. no inch separated your connected bodies as he filled your pussy to the brim.

you had told him no but logan insisted to carry you back home, holding your bare body against his merely clothed one. at least he had his trousers on while you had nothing. “about the I love you part—” you were overthinking it and logan had noticed. he silenced you with a kiss; a kiss which he placed on your forehead. “when I woke up today and saw the house empty, your room empty... and when charles told me you wouldn't be returning—” there was so much emotion in his eyes that you couldn't keep your hands to yourself.

you reached out and caressed logan’s cheek, as well as the wrinkles by his eye. how much you loved those. “I want you to stay. I love you.” his genuine words and gaze made you melt and you found yourself leaning against him, resting your head atop his chest.

you were his problem now. it'd be alright.

#logan howlett #wolverine #old logan howlett x reader #old logan #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #x men #marvel #old man logan x reader #old man logan #old!logan howlett #hugh jackman #Spotify #logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman x reader

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poisonlove · 8 months ago

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BOO | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

The Scream set was relatively quiet. We were on a break from filming, and the atmosphere around us was relaxed. Jenna was chatting with Jasmin, offering a shy smile as her headphones hung around her neck and her phone was firmly in her hands. Every now and then, she would glance quickly at the notifications on her screen. She looked perfectly at ease in her little corner of calm.

But I had other plans.

I had found an old Ghostface mask among the scene equipment. It was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. I knew my plan was a bit foolish, considering Jenna was a horror fanatic and rarely got scared, but she had her guard down at that moment, and I was determined to give it a try. I hid behind a stack of crates, waiting for the right moment.

"I'm going to grab a bottle of water," Jasmin suddenly announced to Jenna with a small apologetic smile.

"Okay," the brunette replied, returning the smile slightly, her fingers drumming on her phone screen.

I seized the moment.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped on the mask and jumped out suddenly.

"Boo!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

Jenna jumped, completely caught off guard. Her eyes went wide, and her phone slipped from her hands, hitting the ground with a thud. For a moment, I was surprised that it had actually worked: I had scared Jenna Ortega! The queen of control looked like she was about to have a mini-heart attack.

I couldn't hold back a laugh as I watched her try to recover.

"Jesus, Y/n!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest and looking at me in disbelief. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

I doubled over in laughter, unable to contain the euphoria. Jenna bent down to pick up her phone from the ground, shaking her head. She started laughing too, but there was a threatening glint in her eyes.

"You just signed your death warrant," she muttered in a low voice, a hint of amusement in her coffee-colored eyes.

I immediately realized it was time to run.

I spun around and took off as fast as I could.

"Get back here!" she shouted, laughing as she chased after me.

Despite the adrenaline of being chased by someone barely over five feet tall, the whole situation was so surreal that I couldn’t stop laughing. I pulled off the mask, which was blocking my vision, and picked up the pace, trying to dodge the set equipment with more agility.

My heart was pounding, and my breath was getting heavier. I could hear Jenna behind me, getting closer. She was faster than I had anticipated. Despite her petite frame, she had incredible determination, and the distance between us was shrinking quickly.

"Oh my God, Y/n! You're doomed!" she called out, her tone both amused and determined.

"Sorry!" I mumbled between laughs.

I turned the corner at full speed and my eyes widened when I saw Amber leaning against a tree, a cigarette between her lips. Her expression immediately shifted to a mix of confusion and irritation as I accidentally bumped into her, causing her cigarette to fall to the ground.

I stopped abruptly, my heart in my throat, and looked at her with concern.

"I'm so sorry," I muttered quickly, my voice barely audible.

"What the hell, Y/n!" Amber snapped, clearly annoyed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jenna appear from the other side, scanning the area until her eyes landed on me and Amber. Her coffee-colored gaze lit up with mischief, and as soon as she started running toward us, panic surged through me, making me let out a startled cry.

Amber raised an eyebrow, lighting another cigarette as she stared at me in disbelief.

"What’s your problem?" she asked, confused.

Then she noticed Jenna approaching rapidly, a sly smile forming on her face.

I didn’t give her time to say another word before I took off running again with all my strength. I needed to find a hiding spot or at least put enough distance between us. But it was too late. I felt Jenna’s hands suddenly grab the back of my shirt with a strong, firm grip. Unable to keep my balance, I tumbled to the ground, dragging Jenna down with me.

We rolled across the ground, our laughter drowning out every other sound around us. The fall wasn’t hard, but the energy of the moment made us lose any semblance of seriousness. Before I knew it, Jenna was on top of me, still laughing, her hair falling messily over her face.

I found myself lying on my back, with her hovering over me, both of us breathing heavily from the chase and the laughter. We locked eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Her dark eyes sparkled with a light I rarely saw, especially on set, where she was always so serious and professional. But now... now there was something different.

Jenna looked at me with an open smile, her adorable dimples fully visible.

"What the hell happened? I was gone for just a few minutes," Jasmin asked in confusion, holding a bottle of water in her hands.

Jenna glanced down for a moment, still chuckling softly. Then she sat up slightly but didn’t completely move off me. Her eyes met mine again, and this time her smile was softer, less mischievous.

"Maybe we can settle this another way?" the brunette suggested, a huge grin still on her face.

A small smile escaped me.

"Like how?"

She let out a light giggle, tilting her head just a bit.

"Maybe with coffee. Or two."

I propped myself up on my elbows slightly, trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart.

"Alright, coffee it is."

Jenna looked at me for another moment, then stood up fully, extending a hand to help me up. Still laughing, I accepted the offer, but I knew there was something more in that chase, in that little battle of pranks and laughter. Even if it wasn’t spoken out loud, I could feel it in the way she looked at me.

"E allora? Qualcuno mi spiegherà questo?" chiese di nuovo Jasmin, ma nessuno le prestò attenzione.

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bluemoonbun · 2 months ago

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Bit of a pivot from Little Bishop (just wanted a change of pace tbh, fic's still on) but what about a Black!Spider!Reader that still has a living family and is just living their best life. Like one of their moms worked at the research facility that the spider was in, and Reader didn't even kill the spider. They just put it back in their enclosure they knocked over. They didn't tell their mom because they knew their one rule was to not go running around in the lab.

Eventually (when Reader is about 16), their moms might find out. But until then, maybe even after, they mostly spend their time in New York (and later Gotham when they move) swinging around as Spiderman.

I got a book back when I was a child about Anansi, the African Trickster god, and I think Reader would name themselves Anansi after that book. (Yes I know about Kwaku Anansi. I'm using the justification of Their Names Are Technically Different)

They're quite the trickster, too, so it fits. They capture villains with extremely sticky traps, trick them into surrendering their weapons, get them to fight each other, etc.

When they eventually move to Gotham, the villains start to prefer them to the Batfamily. Anansi doesn't need to pummel them out of their devices. Granted, being outsmarted by someone who goes on to talk about how they're glad they don't have to hide their bruises during PE again sucks, but ego damage is preferred to physical damage.

Reader hits the Batfam's radar faster than sound. Your good rapport with the villains despite being a vigilante intrigues them. When Barbara brings up some videos of you tricking the villains into disarming themselves, trapping themselves, otherwise neutralizing them without causing more than a few bruises in the span of weeks, they reach out to try and work with you.

Reader, through no attempt of their own, has that mischievous yet relatively sweet side that complements what I call Cute Kid Chic; a trait that makes people older than them want to adopt them. Bruce's adoption problems are put to the test when Reader mentions their mom.

They already fit into the Batfamily so well, bantering with Red Hood, pranking Nightwing, tricking Robin into having fun. You're practically part of the family already!

Meanwhile, Duke is obsessed over a classmate of his that's in Mathletes, chess Club, and does ballet. Damian notices them through a match of Capture the Flag their high school has, their way of using trickery rather than pure speed or brawn like his teammates is... refreshing. Admirable. Fascinating.

You know Cass through ballet, and you're probably closest to her outside of your spider suit. Signal is who they're closest to in suit, and they usually end up working together since they're the two heroes that work during daytime.

#yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #moonie posts #moonie rambles

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aspenmissing · 2 months ago

Note

Hi!! So first of all I can't express how much I love your Arcane head canons😭😭 they bring me lots and lots of comfort and omg I just love them🙇‍♀️💗

And second, can I request a fluff where reader's first language isn't English and when she gets frustrated or surprised/scared she just starts speaking her first language and doesn't realise that she's doing it? I'm polish and I also know Spanish quite well since I'm learning it in high school and I just need to read some head canons like that with at least one of these languages as this idea is stuck in my head😭🤞🏻

If you decide to do something like that I just want to say thank you and have a good day/night💗💗

ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ ʙᴀʀʀɪᴇʀꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5392 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ɪ ᴀᴍ ꜱᴏ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ! ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ! <3 ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴡᴀʀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ɢᴏᴏɢʟᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴏʀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ��ɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ! <3 <3

JAYCE - UKRANIAN

Jayce had always been fascinated by you.

At first, it had been your mind that caught his attention—the way you looked at problems from angles no one else even considered, how you questioned things most scholars took for granted, how you challenged the limitations of the very technology they were so desperate to perfect.

Where others hesitated, you pushed forward. Where they saw walls, you saw doors.

It was reckless sometimes—frustrating, even—but it was also what made you stand out. What made you different.

And then, of course, there was the way you spoke.

Your accent curled around words in a way that made them distinctively yours, giving your voice a rhythm that was unlike anyone else’s in the Academy. It was a quiet but constant reminder that you hadn’t grown up in Piltover, that this city—these people—were not yours. Not originally.

You had fought for your place here, had clawed your way up in a way that many of these scholars never had to. You worked harder, spoke smarter, proved yourself over and over again just to be taken seriously.

Jayce had never needed convincing.

From the moment he met you, he had admired you. Respected you.

But there was one thing about you that always caught him off guard, no matter how many times it happened.

When you were frustrated, flustered, or startled, you unconsciously slipped into your first language.

And right now, standing in the middle of the lab with a malfunctioning Hextech prototype hissing in protest before sparks erupted from the core, you were very, very frustrated.

"That connection isn't stable. If we increase the voltage, the entire system could—"

A loud crack echoed through the room, followed almost immediately by the sharp, acrid scent of burning wires.

The prototype flickered violently before spitting out another burst of sparks. You yelped, stumbling back as a particularly large arc of blue light shot dangerously close to your face.

"Та що ж це за нісенітниця?! Я казав тобі, що це станеться!!" (Oh, for the love of—what kind of nonsense is this?! I told you this would happen!)

Jayce blinked.

His gaze flickered between you and the now-sputtering device, but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were locked on the workbench, jaw clenched, frustration rolling off you in waves as you muttered to yourself.

Fast. Sharp.

The words came out in rapid bursts, thick with exasperation, completely unintelligible to him—but unmistakably you.

Jayce had learned, over time, that it was best to let you run out of steam when you were like this. Interrupting a full-speed Y/N-rant was about as effective as trying to stop a runaway cart with your bare hands.

So he waited, arms crossed, fighting back the smirk that threatened to tug at his lips.

It wasn’t until you started pacing—hands flying in the air as you kept muttering to yourself in short, clipped bursts—that he finally decided to step in.

“Uh… Y/N?”

No response.

"Це не працює! Я знав, що це не спрацює, але ні-є~, давай знову зав’яжемо!" (It doesn’t work! I knew it wouldn’t work, but noooo, let's try it again!)

Jayce bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He had no idea what you were saying, but judging by the way your hands were gesturing toward the ruined wires, he was fairly certain you were blaming him for this.

Still, it was kind of adorable.

Gently, he reached out and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey—breathe.”

You froze.

The words cut through your frustration like a sharp knife through fabric, and suddenly, it was like a switch had been flipped in your brain.

Your shoulders tensed, your hands still half-raised in exasperation, but the realization hit you a second too late.

Your mouth opened slightly. Then your eyes widened.

“Oh—oh no.”

You groaned, pressing both hands to your face. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

Jayce grinned. “Yep.”

Your hands dragged down your face before you let out a defeated sigh, the heat creeping up your neck now that the adrenaline was fading. “I—I didn’t even notice. This is so embarrassing.”

"Why?" Jayce tilted his head slightly. "I think it’s cute."

Your gaze snapped up to him, eyes narrowing. “You think me yelling at you in another language is cute?”

"Absolutely," he smirked. "Especially since I have no idea what you're saying half the time. For all I know, you’re insulting my entire bloodline.”

A mortified groan slipped from your lips as you let your head fall forward against his chest with a soft thud.

Jayce chuckled, the vibration of his laughter rumbling in his chest as he instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close.

“You know,” he added after a moment, his tone turning almost too casual, “you do it when you’re scared, too.”

Your brows pulled together. “…I do?”

He nodded, his grin widening at the memory. “Like that time I almost dropped that blueprint into the acid vat. You gasped and started yelling something I didn’t understand before yanking me back so hard I nearly fell over.”

Your face was practically on fire now. “Jayce, stop.”

“I won’t,” he teased, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes. “Because I like it. It’s part of you. And honestly?” His voice softened, his expression losing its playful edge. “I love hearing your first language. It’s kind of… beautiful.”

You blinked.

Something in your chest tightened, the weight of his words settling over you in a way that you hadn’t expected.

Jayce had always been like this.

Playful. A little cocky.

But never insincere.

You exhaled slowly, your body relaxing against him as you murmured, “…It doesn’t bother you?”

"Not in the slightest." His lips quirked up. "But maybe you could teach me a few words sometime? Just in case you ever decide to yell at me on purpose."

A laugh bubbled up before you could stop it, shaking your head. “Fine. But if I do, you have to promise not to butcher my pronunciation.”

Jayce smirked. “No promises.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away.

Instead, you let him keep his arm around you as you both turned back toward the workbench, the smell of burnt wiring still lingering in the air, the broken prototype still waiting to be fixed.

Nothing about the situation had really changed.

But somehow, standing here with Jayce, his arm draped over your shoulders like it had always belonged there, his smile warm and effortless and entirely him…

You didn’t mind so much.

Even in a city that wasn’t your own.

VIKTOR - RUSSIAN

The first time it happened, Viktor found it amusing. You had been working alongside him in the lab for weeks, your intelligence and curiosity drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He had quickly learned that English wasn’t your first language, though you spoke it well—until frustration got the best of you.

You were tinkering with a particularly finicky piece of Hextech, fingers trembling slightly as you attempted to adjust a minuscule component. Viktor sat nearby, watching with interest, offering occasional suggestions. Then, the screwdriver slipped, sending the delicate piece tumbling to the floor.

"Oh, for fuck’s—!" you began, but your words suddenly shifted into rapid, angry muttering in your mother tongue. "Блин! Вы, должно быть, шутите! Почему это никогда не срабатывает, когда мне это нужно!??" (Damn it! You must be kidding me! Why does this never work when I need it to?)

Viktor blinked, tilting his head as he tried to follow. He had no idea what you were saying, but your tone was unmistakable. Frustration, annoyance, a touch of despair.

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips. "You do realize you are no longer speaking in English, yes?" he asked, his accent thick with amusement.

Your eyes widened, and you froze mid-rant. Heat crawled up your neck as you realized what had happened. "I—I wasn’t?"

"No," Viktor confirmed, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "Though I must say, it was quite impressive. Should I be concerned?"

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. "No, it just happens sometimes when I get frustrated. I don’t even notice I’m doing it."

Viktor nodded in understanding. "I know the feeling," he admitted. "Sometimes, when I am tired or—" he gestured vaguely, "—too focused, I slip into Czech."

Your eyes brightened at that. "Really?"

"Mm," he confirmed. "Jayce has given up trying to understand me when it happens."

A small laugh bubbled up from your chest. "Well, at least we both have that problem."

He smiled, pleased by your reaction. "Indeed. It is... endearing." The way he said it made your heart skip a beat, and you quickly turned back to your work, pretending you weren’t suddenly flustered.

The next time it happened, you were more than just frustrated—you were startled.

A loud, unexpected crack of thunder boomed through Piltover, rattling the windows of the lab. You yelped, instinctively ducking as though the storm had personally come for you. Your reaction was immediate: a string of expletives in your native language spilled from your lips before you even realized what you were doing.

"К черту! Что, черт возьми, это было!? Эта чертова штука чуть не довела меня до сердечного приступа!" (To hell! What the hell was that?! I'm going to have a heart attack!)

You clutched your chest, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Viktor, who had been focused on his own work, looked up sharply, his eyebrows raised. Then, much to your embarrassment, he laughed.

"That bad, hm?" he teased, tapping his cane against the floor as he made his way over to you. "You looked as though the sky itself was falling."

You huffed, still trying to calm your racing heart. "Where I grew up, storms weren’t so... loud."

Viktor’s expression softened. "I see," he murmured. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again, this time in Czech. It was slow, deliberate, as if he wasn’t sure you would understand. "To je v pořádku. Nic se nestalo." (It’s alright. Nothing happened.)

You blinked at him in surprise, recognizing the soothing tone if not the exact words. "What did you say?"

He smiled gently. "I said, ‘It’s alright. Nothing happened.’"

Something warm settled in your chest at his reassurance. "Thank you, Viktor."

"Of course," he said simply, before giving you a mischievous look. "Though I must admit, I am curious—what exactly were you shouting earlier?"

Your face burned. "Absolutely not."

He chuckled. "Very well, I will have to decipher it myself next time."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your lips. Language barriers aside, Viktor always found a way to make you feel understood.

Later that evening, as the rain continued to drum against the windows of the lab, Viktor handed you a cup of tea. You raised an eyebrow in question, and he simply shrugged. "For the nerves," he said.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you accepted the warm mug. "You're too kind, Viktor."

"I try," he said, watching you with quiet amusement. "But tell me... do you curse that fluently in every situation, or should I be honoured?"

You groaned, throwing a playful glare his way. "You just won’t let it go, will you?"

"Not at all," he said with a grin, taking a sip of his own tea. "I find it rather charming. Besides, you might teach me something useful."

You shook your head, unable to hold back your laughter. "Alright, but only if you teach me some Czech in return."

Viktor's eyes gleamed with interest. "It’s a deal."

JAYVIK - CZECH

The Hextech lab was alive with movement, the rhythmic ticking of gears filling the air as steam curled from the cooling pipes. Blue light pulsed from the core of an unfinished device resting on the worktable, casting a glow over the cluttered schematics and scattered tools. The air smelled of oil, metal, and something faintly burnt—probably from the last time Jayce attempted to ‘fix’ something.

Viktor stood at the workbench, one hand gripping his cane while the other traced the schematic with sharp, calculated precision. His golden eyes flickered with thought, but there was a hint of amusement in them as he watched you pace back and forth across the lab like a caged animal.

Jayce, arms crossed, sighed in exasperation. "Are you going to keep muttering, or are we actually going to solve the problem?"

You barely heard him, your mind running a mile a minute. The project in front of you—a new Hextech prototype—was refusing to cooperate, and frustration gnawed at you. Without realizing it, words started slipping from your lips in rapid-fire Czech.

"To nedává smysl! Toto malé zařízení by mělo pasovat, ale když se ho pokusím zarovnat, všechno se rozpadne! A když pak přidám další komponentu – bože, proč to prostě nejde? Přísahám, že jestli se mi ta věc zasekne ještě jednou, hodím ji na zem –" (This makes no sense! This little gear should fit, but when I try to align it, everything falls apart! And then when I add another component—oh god, why won’t it just work? I swear, if this thing jams on me one more time, I’m throwing it at the ground—)

Jayce blinked. "What?" He turned to Viktor, pointing at you. "Translate. Please. Before she starts throwing things."

Viktor exhaled a quiet laugh, his smirk curling at the edges of his lips. "She is saying," he began smoothly, "that the alignment is not making sense, and she is about to throw the device at the floor if it does not cooperate."

Jayce snorted. "Sounds about right."

"Celá tahle věc je blbost! To hloupé spojení se stále posouvá! A vím, že jsem to umístil správně! Možná kdyby někdo-" Your eyes flicked to Jayce, narrowing and pointing to him "S jeho zatracenými svaly a tím, jak se neustále opírá o stůl jako nějaký model – mě nerozptylovalo, možná bych na to už přišel! Ale ne, samozřejmě, že ne, protože on tam jen tak stojí a prohýbá se jako idiot a já tady umírám!"

(This whole thing is bullshit! The stupid connection keeps shifting! And I know I placed it right! Maybe if someone" ... "With his damn muscles and the way he keeps leaning on the table like some kind of model—wasn't distracting me, maybe I would have figured it out by now! But no, of course not, because he's just standing there, flexing like an idiot, and I'm over here dying!)

Jayce blinked. "…What?"

Viktor was already smirking. He tapped his cane against the floor lightly, feigning deep thought before saying, "She says you are… standing in the way. Being distracting."

Jayce’s brows furrowed. "That's it?"

Viktor’s smirk widened. "More or less."

Jayce turned to you suspiciously. "I feel like there was more."

You crossed your arms, lips pressing together. "Nope. That was all of it. Just… very distracting. You should move."

Jayce narrowed his eyes. "She called me an idiot, didn't she?"

Viktor tilted his head innocently. "I do not recall that part."

You shot Viktor a glare, "Alright, genius. Since you understand me, help me fix this before I lose my mind."

Viktor hummed, shifting his weight onto his cane as he examined the blueprint. "Ah, but where would be the fun in that?"

Your jaw dropped. "You’re enjoying this."

He smirked. "Perhaps a little."

Jayce rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable."

You sighed, slumping forward onto the workbench. "Jednoho dne přísahám, že tě srazím k zemi." (One day, I swear I’m going to wrestle you to the ground.)

Viktor chuckled, his smirk deepening. "To bych rád viděl, má drahá." (I would love to see that, my darling)

Jayce groaned loudly, throwing his hands in the air. "I hate when you two do that."

Viktor simply shrugged, utterly unbothered. "Then perhaps you should learn Czech, Jayce. It is a lovely language."

Jayce scowled. "I am not learning Czech just so I can understand when you two gang up on me."

You smirked. "Maybe you should."

VANDER - POLISH

The Last Drop was still vibrating with the echoes of chaos. Dust still hung in the air, a fine layer of soot and debris coating the wooden floor. The kids stood in a line, scuffed up, covered in dirt, scraped knees and knuckles on full display, their eyes shifting guiltily to the floor.

Y/N’s fingers twitched at her sides. Her breathing was measured, forced. She could feel the sharp pounding of her heart, half from the fear that had gripped her when she’d heard what happened, and half from the sheer rage bubbling under her skin now that the danger had passed.

Vi was standing tall, arms crossed, but the twitch in her jaw betrayed her unease. Powder kept glancing at her sister, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her oversized sleeves. Claggor looked ready to face his punishment like a soldier, while Mylo was shifting his weight from foot to foot, practically vibrating with the need to break the silence.

Vander stood a few feet away, leaning lazily against the bar with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said much since they returned, but the look in his eyes told Y/N everything—he was waiting for her to let loose.

And she did.

“O czym do cholery myślałaś, Vi?!” Y/N’s voice erupted, loud enough to make Powder jump. (What the hell were you thinking, Vi?!)

Vi flinched but stayed stubbornly silent, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Wszyscy jesteście niemożliwi!” Y/N continued, her voice rising as she paced in front of them, her hands flying into the air. (You’re all impossible!)

She stopped suddenly, whirling around so fast that Powder almost tripped over her own feet in surprise.

“Miałeś tu zostać i nie wpakować się w kłopoty, ale nie!” Y/N seethed, jabbing a finger toward them. (You were supposed to stay here, not get into trouble, but no!)

Her tone was sharp, slicing through the thick silence of the bar like a blade.

“Nie, bo musisz robić wszystko po swojemu!” She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. (No, because you have to do everything your way!)

Vi’s fingers clenched into fists, her face a mixture of guilt and defiance.

“Bo ty oczywiście wiesz lepiej, prawda?!” Y/N’s voice dripped with frustration, her accent thickening as her emotions spilled over. (Because of course, you know better, right?!)

Powder’s lower lip wobbled. Her big blue eyes darted toward Vi, then back to Y/N. Mylo and Claggor exchanged a nervous glance, both too afraid to even attempt a response.

But Y/N wasn’t finished. Not even close.

She placed her hands on her hips, taking a deep breath in through her nose, as if trying to compose herself—only to fail spectacularly when she pointed sharply at Powder.

“A ty! Mogłeś umrzeć!” Her voice cracked slightly, her fear bleeding into her anger. (And you! You could have died!)

Powder’s eyes widened.

“Czy zdajesz sobie w ogóle sprawę, jak blisko byłeś śmierci?!” Y/N’s voice shook, but whether it was from rage or fear, even she didn’t know anymore. (Do you even realize how close you were to dying?!)

The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy, suffocating.

“A co jeśli coś Ci się stanie, co wtedy?!” Her voice cracked, her hands clenched at her sides. (What if something happened to you, what then?!)

Silence.

The kids looked at each other, utterly lost. Not a single one of them spoke Polish.

Vi opened her mouth, probably to try and defend their actions, but at Y/N’s glare, she snapped it shut.

Y/N let out a long, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her heart was still racing, her breath coming out ragged.

“Och, na miłość-” she muttered under her breath. (Oh, for the love of—)

Finally, Mylo leaned over to Vi, voice barely above a whisper. “Uh… is she cursing us or summoning a demon?”

Vi shot him a look. “Shut up, Mylo.”

Vander finally pushed off the bar with a chuckle and stepped behind Y/N, his large hands resting on her tense shoulders.

“Alright, love,” he murmured, his voice a steady rumble against her back. “I think they get it.”

She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples.

“They better,” she muttered, finally switching back to English. She turned back to the kids, her eyes still burning. “If any of you ever do something this reckless again, I swear—”

“Understood!” Claggor blurted out quickly, his hands raised in surrender. “Never again.”

“Yeah! Super safe from now on,” Powder added, nodding rapidly.

“Absolutely,” Vi said. “Safest kids in Zaun.”

Mylo nodded fervently. “Yeah. I mean, whatever she said sounded terrifying, so definitely don’t wanna hear that again.”

Vander chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple, his beard tickling her skin. “There, see? You scared ‘em straight.”

Y/N sighed, finally allowing herself to look at the kids properly. Powder’s lip was still trembling, and a pang of guilt settled in her chest. She wasn’t angry at them—not really. She was scared.

She softened just a little. “Good,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Now go clean yourselves up.”

The moment the kids scattered, muttering to each other as they disappeared upstairs, Y/N let out a long sigh, sagging against Vander’s chest.

“I swear,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “These kids will be the death of me.”

Vander chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. His warmth seeped into her, grounding her, steadying the remaining tremble in her hands.

“Nah,” he said, voice low, comforting. “You’ll be the one keeping them alive.”

She huffed, tilting her head up to look at him. “I don’t know whether to kiss you or smack you right now.”

He smirked. “Both?”

She rolled her eyes but leaned into him anyway, her head resting against his chest.

After a moment, Vander’s lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his voice laced with amusement.

“Though, gotta say,” he murmured. “Hearing you scold ‘em in Polish? Kinda hot.”

Y/N groaned, lifting her head just to lightly smack his chest.

"Zamknij się, Vander" (Shut up, Vander.)

His laughter rumbled against her, deep and warm, and she sighed.

No matter how much these kids drove her insane, no matter how much stress they caused, she wouldn’t trade this chaotic, reckless, infuriating family for anything.

Because at the end of the day, they were hers.

SILCO - FRENCH

The dim glow of The Last Drop barely reached the far end of Silco’s office, where the two of you sat in relative silence. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey, gunpowder, and smoke, curling in lazy tendrils from the cigar resting in the ashtray at his desk. It was a familiar smell—one that clung to his clothes, his skin, his very presence. Normally, it was grounding, a constant reminder that he was here, that he was in control.

Tonight, however, it did nothing to ease the tremor in your hands.

Silco, ever perceptive, noticed. He always did. His mismatched gaze flicked from your clenched fists to the stiff set of your shoulders, reading the tension in your body like a well-worn map. He didn’t sigh, didn’t frown, didn’t react with anything other than quiet assessment. When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth, even, cutting through the thick silence with ease.

“You’re shaking.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even concern—just an observation, clinical and precise.

You swallowed hard, nails digging into the fabric of your coat. The adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet, still crackling beneath your skin, keeping your limbs taut and your breath shallow. Your mind kept replaying the night’s events, every sharp movement, every flash of steel, every gunshot that had barely missed its mark.

You could still hear the echo of it, still feel the shock of it rattling in your bones. Your breath hitched as the memory flared to life behind your eyes.

“Trop près…” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, the syllables soft, almost reverent. (Too close)

Silco arched a brow but didn’t interrupt. He never did. He had learned early on that when you were rattled, your English faltered, cracking under the weight of your emotions until your native tongue bled through. He never asked for translations, never pushed for explanations. He simply waited, patient as ever.

The quiet stretched between you, thick and heavy. The faint hum of the city outside barely reached through the reinforced walls, but inside, the only sound was the uneven rhythm of your breath.

You exhaled sharply and raked a hand through your hair, frustration curling your fingers tight in the strands. The French came in a rush, spilling from your lips like a confession.

“C'était un piège ! Silco! Ils savaient que nous venions, ils savaient—” (It was a trap! Silco! They knew we were coming, they knew—)

The words poured out, thick with frantic energy, your voice rising as you gestured sharply, the weight of the night pressing down, crushing you beneath its cold grip.

And then—a hand caught your wrist.

Silco’s fingers curled around your pulse point, firm but careful, his grip grounding. Not a demand, not restraint, but something quieter.

You inhaled sharply, the contact jolting you back to the present, anchoring you in the warmth of his touch. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you locked eyes with him.

“Breathe, mon cœur.” His voice was quiet, coaxing, the syllables rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. (My heart)

Your stomach twisted, a different kind of tension settling in your chest. His pronunciation was nearly flawless—softened slightly by the sharpness of his usual speech, but deliberate. Intentional.

Your lips parted, surprise flickering through the haze of panic.

How long had he been listening? How many times had he committed your words to memory, waiting for the right moment to use them?

A shiver ran down your spine, not from fear, but from something else entirely.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the weight of everything you had almost lost tonight settled deep, thick and suffocating. Your pulse still thrummed beneath his fingers, quick and uneven.

“They almost got you.” Your voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “I thought—”

Silco’s thumb brushed over your wrist in slow, absent-minded strokes. “But they didn’t.”

He said it with such certainty, such quiet finality, as if the alternative had never even been a possibility.

Your breath came easier now, though your body still felt tight, still carried the lingering tension of the night.

Silco tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. The ghost of a smirk played at the corner of his lips, subtle but unmistakable.

“Though, I must admit…” He released your wrist, fingers trailing lightly along the inside of your forearm before retreating completely. “Hearing you slip into French when you’re angry is quite the experience.”

The tension in your chest cracked, just a little. A breathless, half-exasperated laugh escaped you as you ran a hand down your face.

“I don’t do it on purpose.”

“I never said you did.”

His smirk deepened, amusement flickering behind his sharp gaze as he leaned in slightly, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. His voice dipped lower, rich and deliberate, each word carrying an edge of something unreadable.

JINX - SPANISH

Jinx didn’t get nervous easily. Chaos was her playground, and she thrived in it. But when Y/N started rambling in Spanish—fast, panicked, and borderline incoherent—even she had to admit she got a little nervous.

It happened every time things got out of control. A heist gone wrong? Spanish. A near explosion (usually Jinx’s fault)? Spanish. Running into someone dangerous in the Lanes? More Spanish.

It wasn’t like Jinx didn’t know what was happening—Y/N was scared. And Jinx didn’t like it when her people were scared.

So, she did the only thing that made sense. She made it worse.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down, firecracker! I don’t know what you’re saying, but I’m ninety percent sure you’re cursing at me.” Jinx grinned, flipping one of her guns over her shoulder as they ran.

Y/N whirled on her, eyes wild. “¡Porque nunca puedes seguir un plan! ¡Siempre hay que hacer algo estúpido y ahora tenemos a la mitad de Zaun queriendo matarnos!" (Because you can never follow a plan! You always have to do something stupid, and now we have half of Zaun wanting to kill us!)

Jinx blinked. “Uh-huh. Yep. Totally got that.”

Y/N groaned, dragging her hands through her hair. “We need to hide.”

“Oh, is that what you said?” Jinx cackled, tugging her into an alleyway just as a group of enforcers ran past. “Y’know, I like it when you get all fiery. Adds some spice. Like, boom! Explosion of emotions.” She threw her hands out for effect.

Y/N just glared at her, chest rising and falling rapidly. She muttered under her breath in Spanish, and Jinx caught something about ‘dios’ and ‘sufrir’ and—yeah, okay, she was probably in trouble. ("God" and "suffer")

Jinx sighed and nudged her. “Hey, c’mon, I didn’t mean for things to go sideways. Well, not completely.”

Y/N’s glare didn’t waver.

“Okay, okay, so I might’ve—technically—possibly—definitely—ignored the plan, but look at us! Still alive! Isn’t that fun?”

“Jinx.”

“Okay, fine, not fun for you. But hey, we make a great team, right?”

Y/N groaned again, muttering something Jinx didn’t understand but felt deep in her soul. She slumped against the wall, pressing a hand over her face.

"Lo juro, un día la estrangularé." (I swear, one day I'll strangle her.)

Jinx sat beside her, pulling a grenade out of her pouch and rolling it between her fingers absentmindedly. “Y’know, I like it. The whole Spanish thing. I dunno what you’re saying, but it’s kinda cool.”

Y/N peeked at her through her fingers. “It’s usually me calling you an idiot.”

Jinx smirked. “Yeah, but, like, in a fun way, right?”

Y/N gave Jinx a deadpan look, lips pressed into a straight line. Her silence was loud enough to make Jinx fidget slightly, before she let out an exaggerated sigh and raised her hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Alright, firecracker, I promise next time I’ll stick to the plan.”

Y/N crossed her arms, one brow arching high.

Jinx groaned. “Fine, I’ll at least try.”

Y/N sighed, finally letting the tension drain from her shoulders. “That’s the best I’ll get, isn’t it?”

Jinx nodded sagely. “Yup. But hey, look at the bright side—we survived! And now we have a great story to tell.”

Y/N groaned again, but this time, there was a hint of a smile on her lips. Jinx caught it, her grin widening. That was a win in her book.

Jinx nudged Y/N with her elbow. “Hey, if you’re feeling better, we should totally celebrate.”

Y/N shot her an incredulous look. “Celebrate what? That we didn’t get shot?”

Jinx beamed. “Exactly! C’mon, I got some fireworks stashed away. We could light ‘em up, make the night a little more exciting.”

Y/N let out an exhausted groan, rubbing a hand down her face. “Jinx, I swear—”

Jinx pouted, clasping her hands together dramatically. “Aww, c’mon. Live a little.”

Y/N shook her head but couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped her lips. “Fine. But if I die because of you, I’m haunting you.”

Jinx gasped theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest. “Que horrorosa!” (How horrifying!)

Y/N snorted. “You’re impossible.”

Jinx threw an arm around her. “And you love me for it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but allowed Jinx to drag her along, already resigning herself to another night of chaos. The streets of Zaun stretched before them, flickering neon lights casting their shadows long and distorted against the walls. Somewhere in the distance, the hum of the city buzzed with life, a symphony of voices, machines, and occasional explosions—probably Jinx’s handiwork from earlier.

Y/N sighed, but there was no real frustration left in her voice. “This better not end with us running for our lives again.”

Jinx cackled, tightening her hold on Y/N’s shoulders. “No promises, firecracker. No promises.”

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jinx x platonic!reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #vander x reader #silco x reader #jayvik x reader

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fallecupid · 10 months ago

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VICTORIA NEUMAN | NSFW ALPHABET

: thanks for the request, in fact, writing about victoria was even easier than writing about donaldson.!!!

A — ( aftercare ) after sex, victoria often just hugs your body or whispers sweet nothings to reignite your excitation, but doesn't really mean it. also, it's definitely holy ground, like showering and changing cum-stained bedding.

B — ( body part ) neuman would be lying if she said it didn't matter. your neck, one of her few weaknesses, sometimes just wants to nuzzle into it and smell your scent or leave a couple of sweet hickeys on your delicate skin.

C — ( cum ) in particularly tense moments, it's not always possible to keep clean, so the white sheets of her soft bed suffer.

D — ( dirty secret ) victoria would like to practice role-playing or bdsm, it cannot be called a dirty secret, for she is not ashamed of her desires, but for some reason she has not yet voiced it.

E — ( experience ) you're not the first. victoria is definitely an experienced woman who knows where to stick her fingers in and where to run her tongue, yet you never have a slip of doubt that she's committed to one of her exes.

F — ( favourite position ) victoria prefers to fuck you while you sit on her lap, unable to pull away or be too willful. only to whimper into her neck and wriggle.

G — ( goofy ) victoria is pretty damn serious herself, but during sex she becomes more of a horny cat?

H — ( hair ) often, during sex, you tug victoria's hair, which is so damn attractive, she's ready to melt while your fingers slide through her thick curls.

I — ( intimacy ) she can afford to take you out to a restaurant or buy you any trinket, expressing her affection in this way. of course she can be romantic, if that's important to you.

J — ( jack off ) she herself doesn’t jerk off, she has damn little time for this, too much work and crap surrounding her on all sides. but watching you jerk off during sex is a different story, but it’s too typical when she doesn’t let you cum, right?

K — ( kink ) any kind of obedience. you often practice this and this kink has become too common in sex.

L — ( location ) it could be anywhere. whether it's her office or a bathroom stall, it depends.

M — ( motivation ) it doesn't take much for a warm feeling to build up in her lower abdomen, but she still particularly likes your boldness.

N — ( no ) victoria will never really hurt you. the woman is able to tell when you're languidly asking her to stop and when you're really uncomfortable.

O — ( oral sex ) she doesn't mind being sandwiched between your thighs while her tongue moistens your clit, listening to muffled moans.

P — ( pace ) victoria never rushes, slowly caressing you with her fingers while running her tongue over your naked skin. every touch is a tease.

Q — ( quickie ) absolutely not. no speed in sex.

R — ( risk ) she has no problem fucking you on the balcony of her office or squeezing you in a dark corner at an event.

S — ( stamina ) after all she's super, she has enough energy to fuck you once or twice, but then again if you're exhausted after the first time, she sees no point in continuing.

T — ( toys ) your sex with victoria is bad enough without having to spice it up with some kind of toy.

U — ( unfair ) victoria always does this, especially when you're ready to cum, she stretches that moment like a rubber, teasing you and provoking you at the same time.

V — ( volume ) surprisingly she doesn't like to make more noise than necessary, so she mostly whimpers into your hair or rubs against your chest at all.

W — ( wildcard ) when she's at a debate, more often than not, instead of being distracted by the sweaty men next to her, she's replaying your recent sex in her head while keeping her guard up.

X — ( x-ray ) —

Y — ( yearning ) something between 6-7/10 eventually she's a public figure, an active politician and her brain splits in two to keep it all in her head, need and work.

Z — ( Zzz ) victoria doesn't go to bed at once, she manages to work until the middle of the night, right after sex.

#꒰ㅅ´ ˘ ꒱ . my works #headcanon ८ ୧ ⸝⸝ ა #victoria neuman fic #victoria neuman smut #victoria neuman fanfic #victoria neuman the boys #the boys fic #the boys fanfic #the boys #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #the boys headcanon #the boys smut

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girlgenius1111 · 1 year ago

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young, drunk, and alone

putellas!reader, infuriates her sister when she sneaks out and gets drunk with her friends. alexia comes to realize that maybe, this is a result of her pushing you too hard.

angst + fluff. brief mentions of blood and vomiting. and alcohol consumption. this is literally 6k word essay on how silly sisters can be.

-----

Sneaking out hadn't been your best plan. Was it really sneaking out if you slipped right out the front door? You weren't sure. Alexia and Olga were heavy sleepers, and because you had the following day off, you figured it was as good a time as any. You were planning on meeting up with some friends from school and going to a club. You didn't drink much; a combination of being a professional athlete, and someone named Alexia, who happened to be your very strict older sister.

You probably should have paced yourself. You also probably should have not run away from your friends, especially when you were blitzed out of your mind. You weren't quite sure where you were, or how long it had been since you'd bolted from the club. Or how many drinks you'd had.

You'd broken one of your... well, one of Alexia's heels, and you carried both shoes in one hand. You were really sleepy all of a sudden, and you spotted a bench a few meters ahead. You headed there, plopping down on the bench before pulling your phone out of your pocket. The screen swam in front of your eyes, and you couldn't figure out if your hand was moving, or if your head was moving. Something was, that was for sure.

You were somewhere. Somewhere in the city of Barcelona. You needed some help, though.

And you knew just the gal to come get you. Alexia could find anyone, but especially you; she had your location.

The phone began to ring, and you heard your sister's grumpy voice come over the line shortly after.

"Why are you calling me from inside the same house?" She said groggily.

"Aleeeeexiaaaaaa!" You sang, proud of yourself for solving your problem all on your own, especially while the earth was spinning so much faster than normal.

"Nena. You better be in your room right now." Alexia said through clenched teeth. You could hear her shuffling, and Olga speaking to her quietly.

"'M not in my room, Ale, sorry." You heard your door bang open, then, and Alexia confirm what you'd just admitted.

"I am going to kill you to death." Alexia warned. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm not totally sure where I am. There's a road... ooo and a bench. And I think a building. D'you know where I am?"

"My god. You don't know where you are?" Alexia cried, shaking off her girlfriend's advice to calm down.

"Nope. D'you?" You slurred.

"How would I know where you are!?!?" Alexia shouted. There was more shuffling, and Olga's soothing voice replaced Alexia's.

"Nena, Ale has your location. We're going to come get you now. Stay where you are, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." You said, saluting to the thin air in front of you. You hung up then, though you forgot to say goodbye, and awaited your sister eagerly.

-----

"I am going to kill her." Alexia seethed, driving well over the speed limit on the way to your little dot on her screen.

"You can kill her later, let's just make sure she's safe first." Olga sighed.

"This is Alba's fault. Or Mapi's. Or Pina and Cata's. I will find the culprit, and I will make them run so many laps..."

"She's right there," Olga interrupted, pointing to the park bench where you were sitting, looking blankly at your sister's car.

Alexia threw the car and park, and moved to throw her door open, but stopped when her girlfriend grabbed her arm.

"Alexia, she's drunk. She's not going to remember any of this tomorrow, so be nice now. You can yell later, yes?"

"Fine." Alexia sighed. She got out of the car, as did Olga, and they approached you carefully.

"ALE!!" You cheered, standing and tripping forward dangerously as you tried to tackle your sister in a hug.

"Hi." Alexia said evenly, easily catching you and helping you back upright.

"Thanks for comin' to get me," you slurred, slumping into your sister.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get you home nena."

"OLGA!!!" You yelled suddenly, turning and seeing your sister's girlfriend biting back a smile at the sight of you. You were gone. Completely gone.

"Hey nena." Olga said kindly, opening the door to the backseat for you. Alexia barely got you buckled in before you toppled completely over, now laying horizontally across the back seat.

"Ow." You said quietly. Again, Olga had to try really hard not to laugh, turning to her girlfriend, who just look exasperated.

"Maybe I should sit back there with her." The brunette suggested.

"I think that might be best." Alexia agreed, walking around to the drivers side and getting in. She looked in the rearview mirror, seeing you completely slumped on her girlfriend's shoulder, eyes already shut. It melted her heart, just a little, how much you loved Olga, and how much Olga loved you. Still, her overarching feelings right now were anger and frustration.

-----

Once Alexia had carried you from the car, deposited you on your bed, and placed a trash can and a bottle of water within your reach, she grabbed your phone, texting your friends that had clearly not been keeping an eye on you that you were home safe. She then stomped back into her room, throwing herself dramatically onto her bed.

"What was she thinking? Is she stupid? Is she the stupidest person on earth? She has to be."

"Ale, calm down." Olga said, following her in and shutting the door behind her. "Go to sleep. Deal with it tomorrow."

Alexia sighed, laying back down under the covers, before looking over to her girlfriend. "Thank you for coming. And for taking such good care of her." She said quietly.

"Always." Olga promised, pressing a light kiss to Alexia's lips.

-----

The next morning found you not laid in bed until the afternoon like you would have hoped. Instead, Alexia had dragged you out of bed at 9am, which she felt was pretty generous, threw some training clothes at you, and drove over to the Barça grounds. She had to pull over once for you to get out and throw up, but even though you were sweating, exhausted, your head was pounding, and your stomach churning, Alexia was unrelenting.

Olga was still asleep when Alexia had left with you, and you had wondered if you could text her discreetly to put an end to this before it started. Alexia had taken your phone hostage though, so that was a no go.

Now, Alexia had you running sprints. You thanked god above that it was a chillier, cloudier day, but running while you were violently hungover was still... a form of torture. She'd found a whistle, somewhere, and anytime you stopped running, she blew it at you, making the pounding in your head worse.

You managed to last 15 minutes before you stopped a few feet away from her, looking at your sister pleadingly.

"Ale, I'm gonna throw up," you warned.

Alexia's was unflinching, sunglasses down over her eyes as she stood, hands on her hips, watching you.

"I'm not stopping you." She said coldly, gesturing for you to do so.

"Ale, please," you whined.

"If you didn't want to run sprints hungover, you shouldn't have snuck out and gotten drunk." Alexia told you.

You turned away from her, throwing up what little water you'd managed to drink so far. When you were done, you turned back, finding Alexia directly behind you, holding out a sports drink.

"Drink." She instructed. You took it, chugging the whole thing as you held back a gag, knowing if you could keep any of it down, it would be somewhat helpful.

Things continued like this for another 10 minutes, until you were sure Alexia was going to keep you going until you passed out.

In fact, Alexia was just about to call it, not wanting to completely kill you, when she heard her name being shouted from just behind her.

"Alexia, what are you doing to that poor girl?!" Mapi yelled, marching towards her friend, while Ingrid broke into a run, heading towards you. You'd fallen to your knees, retching pathetically onto the grass, even as nothing came up.

"She snuck out and got drunk." Alexia dismissed, looking concerned at the sight of you on the ground, trembling violently in Ingrid's arms. Mapi grabbed her wrist, spinning her back around.

"Alexia. This is really harsh, even for you."

"Good. Maybe she'll learn her lesson." Still, Alexia couldn't help her gaze flicking over to where you were. You were okay, she was sure. She knew what you could take, and what you couldn't. You'd drink some water, take a cold shower, and sleep the rest of the day.

Mapi looked disapprovingly at her captain. "Maybe that would have taught you a lesson. I'm sure there are more effective ways of talking to your sister about this, than attempted murder."

"She's fine. I know her limits, and so does she. If she was really not well, she would have just stopped."

You wouldn't have. You knew your sister was furious, and you would have done anything to fix that. Anything. If it meant running until you dropped, so be it. Alexia didn't think you'd push yourself that hard, though. She way underestimated the lengths you would go to for her approval.

"Anyway, what are you doing here? It's an off day." Alexia questioned, beginning to walk towards you.

"Ingrid wanted to work on a few things." Mapi said.

They reached your side, and Ingrid looked up sternly at your sister, a glare set on her face.

"Ale, can we go home?" You asked pathetically. You were completely pale, covered in sweat, and you were shaking all over.

"Yeah. Let's go." Ingrid helped you to your feet, holding you steady as Alexia wrapped an arm around you, and began walking you towards the exit.

"Should we call child protective services?" Ingrid wondered sarcastically, watching Alexia drag you back to the car.

"Nah. She's 19. And Alexia will have to deal with Olga when she gets that poor kid home."

----

And have to deal with Olga, Alexia did.

She helped you into the house, the AC in the car and the endless supply of water Alexia had for you helping tremendously. You felt more alive now, and honestly, you must have sweated out a lot of the alcohol, because you didn't feel that bad.

You were still shaking, though, still pale. Alexia cringed internally when she heard Olga's feet quietly making their way towards the front door, as she helped you pull your shoes off.

"Alexia." Olga gasped. "What did you do, take her to get run over by a truck?" She walked forward, easing you away from your sister, and towards the living room, shooting her girlfriend a harsh glare over your shoulder.

"No. We had a workout to do." Alexia said casually.

"Nena, are you okay?" Olga asked softly.

You smiled up at her, relaxing back into the couch. "Yep. I thought she was going to kill me for a bit, but she didn't."

Olga sighed. You were back to joking, back to pretending that Alexia's behavior didn't bother you. Back to acting like you didn't need more support from her. This needed to stop. Now.

"Drink some water. We can try to get some food in you in a bit. Alexia, come with me." Olga's tone left no room for conversation as she headed up the stairs towards their room. Alexia didn't listen immediately to a lot of people, but Olga was one of them.

She trailed after her girlfriend a little hesitantly. She knew she'd taken it too far. She hadn't done any damage to you, but it was still too far. And Olga was about to give her hell for it. Which likely, she deserved. Alexia was stubborn, though, and she wouldn't admit to being wrong without a bit of a fight.

"Are you crazy? What were you trying to accomplish, Ale? Whatever you made her do was overkill. You didn't need to take it so far-"

"NO. She is my baby sister, and she is off getting drunk and getting lost, and-" Alexia interrupted, suddenly furious again.

"Alexia, she's 19. This is what 19 year olds' do." Olga defended.

"Not HER. She is supposed to be responsible. She is an athlete, she has responsibilities, she has people relying on her-"

Olga cut her off again. "God, amor, I cannot imagine why'd she'd feel the need to go get drunk. That doesn't seem like a lot of stress on a teenager at all."

Alexia was quiet for a moment. "If she was stressed, she would tell me. If it was too much, she would tell me." She said, though she sounded suddenly unsure.

"Would she?" Olga wondered. "You're pretty strict with her, baby. Maybe she doesn't need Stern Alexia, and tough love all the time, maybe she just needs love." This had been swirling around in Olga's head for the past few weeks, though she wasn't sure how to bring it up to her girlfriend. She'd watched as you would wilt when Alexia would give you a simple 'good job' after a game, directly followed by all the things she thought you could improve. She watched you do things, and instantly turn to your sister, to see if she was impressed or not. If Alexia was, she never let it show.

For Alexia, sternness, rigidness worked for her. She didn't need people to be soft with her, to tell her all the time that she was doing a good job, so she assumed you didn't either. Olga could tell, though, that every time Alexia ruffled your hair instead of giving you a hug, shook off your request to something fun instead of reviewing match footage, it crushed you, just a little bit.

Olga wasn't surprised that this had happened, not at all. You were acting out, trying to burn off some stress while also trying to get your sister's attention.She hoped it would finally make her girlfriend understand that you needed more from her. You were young, living away from your mom, and you needed someone to care for you, not just push you. You wanted that from your sister, too, although you were always appreciative of everything that Olga did for you.

Their argument fizzled out, and Olga realized Alexia needed space to think. She left her there to do so, heading back downstairs to check on you.

-----

You and Alexia didn't speak of the incident in the days following. You could tell something had changed, Alexia was being... different with you. Less intense.

You thought she was just really angry. Which was fair. You'd been stupid and irresponsible. She had every right to be angry. You decided to let it pass, to not push her into forgiving you sooner.

You didn't realize that Alexia was rethinking the entire dynamic she had with you, the role she played in your life. She noticed, suddenly, that you weren't as affectionate as you had been before. You didn't sit close to her on the couch when you watched TV together. You didn't pull her into a hug when you saw her. You didn't talk to her when you were upset after a game. You didn't immediately look for her when you got hurt. She'd been so focused on being the coach that she thought you needed that she'd forgotten to be the sister that you'd actually needed.

She could be your mentor without pushing you so hard, Alexia had realized. You didn't need another coach. You needed your sister. Alexia just wasn't sure how to fix what she'd broken.

When she did figure out how to fix it, it came naturally to her. It was suddenly instinctual, again, the strong feeling within her to take care of you, not push you to be better.

-----

The first time you got some idea that Alexia was making an effort to be different was a few days after The Incident, as you and Olga had named your adventure. You were coming back from seeing your friends; the very same friends you had gone out with. It had started off fine, everyone joking around about your disappearing act. As the conversation continued, though, it became clear to you that a few of them had seen you leave by yourself, and not bothered to go after you. And they had all been significantly less intoxicated than you were.

They tried to excuse their behavior by telling you they were distracted by various people they'd met up with at the club. When you pushed, asking why no one thought to keep an eye on you, or go after you when you ran out, especially after they'd been pushing drink and drink on you, enjoying how increasingly absurd you got, they got defensive. They lashed out, going on and on about how you should have been responsible, and it wasn't their job to babysit you. You knew that, but at the same time, anything could have happened to you when you ran out of the club. It was a miracle that nothing did. The argument escalated into a full blown fight, until you were shouting back and forth at each other, bringing up issues that were long resolved.

Eventually, you stormed out, walking the 15 minutes back to your sister's house, angry tears falling from your eyes. Your friends weren't the best friend's a person could have, you knew this. They were your only friends outside of football, though, the only friends that were truly your's and not also your sister's. That's probably why you kept them around so long, and you never would have thought they would care so little about your safety.

The words exchanged had been harsh, and you knew as you neared home that there was no salvaging those relationships. You were upset, everything hard about the week catching up with you. You just hoped that when you walked through the front door, Alexia and Olga would both be too busy with various tasks to notice how upset you were. Alexia hated your friends, and you knew she would tell you that what happened was for the best. That was absolutely not what you needed to hear, now, though.

You opened the door as quietly as you could, slipping your shoes off and carefully placing your keys down on the little table near the door. You turned to walk up the stairs, jumping slightly when Olga was suddenly standing directly behind you, looking at her phone.

"What do you want for dinner? Your sister and I can't agree," Olga asked, growing quiet as she looked up, spotting how upset you were. "What's wrong?" The brunette's face grew sympathetic, and you ignored how it made you want to cry.

"Nothing." You told her, dodging her attempt to rest a hand on your shoulder, and slipping up the stairs. You shut the door to your room. It was a mess in there, it was past time you cleaned it; and, anyway, you needed to do something to get your anger out, and furiously cleaning seemed like as good of an idea as any.

-----

Downstairs, Olga was conflicted. Normally, she would take this, as the more emotionally available adult in the house. She knew that you didn't want her comfort, though, not in the way you wanted your sister's. And Alexia had clearly been taking to heart what her girlfriend had told her, being noticeably different with you, even if she hadn't figured out quite how to act. So, Olga slipped off to the office, knocking and entering when she heard her girlfriend's voice beckoning her inside.

"Hey, beautiful," Alexia said, smiling from behind the desk. Olga smiled in return, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Your sister just got home from seeing her friends and I think something happened, she was really upset."

Alexia rolled her eyes. "They suck, I'm not surprised. Is she okay?"

"She ran off to her room, but she was crying." Olga replied, watching her girlfriend's expression carefully. Alexia looked conflicted, like she wasn't sure what to do.

"I'll go check on her." The blonde said finally, receiving an encouraging smile from Olga. She stood and headed towards the stairs, pausing when Olga stopped her.

"Just a tip. Telling her that her friends suck probably won't make her feel better. Even is she's mad at them. Just try to be nice." Olga suggested.

Alexia nodded, continuing on her way. Her girlfriend was more than a little amused at how nervous the blonde seemed. It was just you.

For Alexia, though, she didn't really know how to make you feel better. What would have worked for her was clearly not working for you, she saw that now. You were so different from her, so much more sensitive. She was nervous because she didn't want to say the wrong thing. She didn't realize, however, that any attempt she would make would be greatly appreciated by you.

Alexia knocked on your door, feeling a little ridiculous at how nervous she was, opening the door tentatively when you told her to come in. You were pacing around the room, folding clothes and putting things away, even as a few tears remained falling from your eyes. You looked furious as you cleaned rather aggressively, not acknowledging your sister when she walked in the room.

"Hey, nena?" Alexia called after a minute of watching you fold a shirt like you would have preferred to set it on fire. You hummed in response, still not looking towards her. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened." You snapped, moving on to another shirt, throwing the recently folded one down on the bed, huffing in frustration when the action messed up your meticulous work.

Deciding not to second guess her instincts, Alexia strode forward, taking the shirt out of your hands and setting it on the bed. She turned you so that you were facing her, placing her hands on your shoulders. You still wouldn't meet her eyes, and you were a good few inches shorter than her, but she could still see your angry resolve cracking, your bottom lip beginning to quiver.

You didn't want to cry in front of her, not over the friends of yours that she hated. It was a waste, and you knew she wouldn't give you the sympathy that you wanted. That just wasn't how Alexia was.

"C'mere," Alexia said softly, wrapping her arms around you and bringing you into a tight hug.

Until this point, Alexia wasn't sure she quite understood what you needed from her. The second you melted into her arms, though, like a hug was all you'd needed, it became very clear. Olga was right; you'd just needed love.

Your shoulders were shaking with silent cries, as if you were trying to keep them quiet, and Alexia frowned, arms squeezing you tighter.

"You can cry, cariño, if you're upset. It's okay to cry." She whispered. Admittedly, expressing emotion wasn't something she was good with. She hadn't realized the effect this had on you expressing your emotions before now.

You cried into your sister's shoulder, no longer holding back after her words of encouragement, for a solid 5 minutes. Alexia didn't shy away from the display of feelings like you expected her to. Instead, she sat you on the side of your bed, carefully wiping the remaining tears off your face with the sleeve of her sweater.

Still sniffling pathetically, you looked down at our hands, not sure if you should tell her what happened, if she'd want to hear. Alexia caught your hesitation, sitting down next to you, and bumping your knee with hers. "Tell me what happened."

You took a deep breath, before launching into the story. Alexia grew tense next to you, clearly with anger, but you weren't sure who it was directed at. If it was at the reminder of how irresponsible you'd been, or if it was at your friends. When you finished, Alexia was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

"They suck." She said finally, before shaking her head at herself. "No, Olga told me not to say that. You deserve better friends than them, especially if their are so unconcerned with your safety and wellbeing. What if you hadn't had your phone? What if something had happened? I wouldn't have known where you were, you could have been hurt." Alexia went on, growing more agitated.

"I'm sorry, Ale," you told her.

"No, no. I am angry with them." Alexia said earnestly. "For being so careless with you. They should have been looking out for you. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you, but I probably would have started with ruining their lives."

Protective Alexia wasn't a side of your sister you'd seen in a while. Not since you were 11 and you'd told her that a boy had tried to kiss you on the playground. She'd skipped training to march to your school, asking you to point out the boy. You had, and she'd held him up against the brick wall of the building by the collar of his shirt, warning him to never so much as look at you, ever again. He was appropriately terrified, and no one tried to mess with you again after that.

It was nice, feeling protected by your sister. It felt safe. It made you feel loved.

-----

Even after the conversation about your friends, Alexia still didn't acknowledge that something had changed.

Until after a rather rough match against Atlético. You were having an off day, your passes not connecting, your shots just barely missing the back of the net. She could tell you were frustrated, and she wasn't sure how to make you feel better. Normally, she'd give you a pat on the back, tell you to push through and focus. Alexia realized now, though, that you didn't need that from her.

Still, it was the middle of the match, and there wasn't time for a pep talk. She'd have to wait until the match was over, and then she could figure out what to say to you. Now, she needed to focus.

Alexia did focus. She focused on taking the corner, watching the ball sail towards your head. She focused on Lola's gloved hand extending towards the ball, and connecting squarely with your face. Alexia saw you drop to the ground, clutching tightly to your nose. The whistle blew immediately, and half the team was looking down at you uneasily, waving urgently for the medical staff. Lola was crouched by your head, clearly making repetitive apologies.

Normally, when you got hurt, Alexia kept her distance. She didn't want to suffocate you, and she didn't want to act unprofessional. On the pitch, you were teammates. Appearances didn't matter, though, not really, and she could be your older sister too, she knew.

Alexia sprinted to you, shoving players of both teams out of her way in her quest to get to your side. Lola saw her barreling towards her, and wisely backed up, leaving the spot just above you open, while the medics were arriving on either side of you.

You were still on your stomach, clutching tightly to your face, feeling hot blood seep into your hand. It was broken. You'd heard the crunch. And, like always when you got hurt, you wanted your sister to come hold your hand. You knew she wouldn't. She had to be professional, she had a reputation to protect. You were surprised when her soft voice met your ear.

"Hey, nena, can you roll over for us?"

Although your position smushed into the turf felt like the most comfortable you could get currently, you slowly rolled onto your back with a groan.

"Oh, honey," Alexia whispered, taking in the sight of your very broken nose, blood pooling all over your face.

"Broken," you mumbled, the movement of speaking hurting, blood filling your mouth. So as not to allow you to choke, Alexia and one of the medics carefully sat you up, tipping you forward, allowing your nose to drip into the towel being help against your face.

"She's right, I heard it break," Lola added, still hovering near you. It had been completely accidental, what she'd done, and she felt guilty. She backed up, though, when Alexia shot her a harsh glare.

"Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Are you going to pass out?" Alexia asked anxiously, knowing that you weren't a fan of blood. The medics exchanged amused looks at your suddenly overbearing sister, as you looked at her, less amused, and slightly comforted.

"No. Fine. Hurts't talk." You got out, closing your eyes as the pain intensified. Alexia's hand rubbed circles into your back, and you were floored when she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, right in front of the entire stadium, before looking to the medic for permission to help you to your feet. When he nodded and grabbed your other arm, they got you up, supporting you all the way to the sidelines, where another medic took over for you sister.

"Should I tell Jona to take me off?" Alexia asked you, still glued to your side, even as you neared the tunnel.

"No, go win." You spit some blood onto the ground, barely managing the words, and Alexia agreed uneasily, watching you all the way back inside.

The rest of the team was looking at her like she had two heads. Never before had they seen her be so nurturing with you, so outwardly worried. Alexia loved you, no one doubted that. She was just normally much more reserved about showing affection for her youngest sister.

-----

By the time Alexia got back to the locker room post match she was startled to see that you weren't in sitting in front of your locker waiting for her, or with the team doctors. They informed you that Olga had taken you home. You had a slight concussion, and your nose was broken, but didn't need to be reset, and you didn't want to wait for most of the second half to finish for your sister, so when Olga offered to take you home, you took her offer gratefully.

She sped through her shower and her post match routine, continuing to ignore the surprised expressions on her teammates face, and the rather satisfied one on Mapi's; the defender was finally seeing the return of the Older Sister Alexia she knew.

Alexia arrived home, abandoning her bag in the car and rushing inside. She wanted to make sure you were okay, more than anything. More than anything. It was like she'd just remembered that she was your sister, not just your captain, and her instinct to protect you was overwhelming her.

She marched right into the house, finding you laid on the couch, your head resting in Olga's lap an ice pack held over your nose by your sister's girlfriend, who was telling you an animated story about the crazy fan she'd run into in the stands today.

"Nena," Alexia sighed, feeling slightly better at the sight of you, more or less in one piece.

You sat up, still rather confused at the complete 180˚ your sister had done. "Hi." You had a rather disconcerting lisp to your speech, your lip swelling from the contact with the opposing goalkeeper's glove.

Alexia sat right next to you, removing the ice pack, and inspecting your face carefully.

"Does it hurt?" She asked.

"Not as much now. The ice is helping."

"Have you eaten? Taken anything? You should drink a lot of water, and ice every 15 minutes, and make sure you sleep propped up on a pillow, and we should go to the dentist tomorrow, just to make sure your teeth are okay." Alexia rambled, gently nudging your lip up to look at the swollen gums surrounding your upper front teeth. "Are they loose? If they're loose, we should go to the dentist now."

You exchanged a look with Olga. You were rather confused, while she just looked pleased with herself.

"They're not loose. I feel fine, Ale, and I ate some pasta. I think I'm just going to go to bed, I'm really tired."

You stood, keeping the ice pressed to your nose, catching the slightly frantic look on your sister's face. "You'll wake me up if it hurts, or if something is wrong, right?" She questioned.

"Yeah, if you want me to." You told her.

She nodded, relieved. "I would like you to."

"Okay. Goodnight, guys." Before you could step away from the couch, Alexia was standing and pulling you into a gentle hug, being extra careful with... your entire face. She kissed your forehead, before shooing you off towards the stairs.

Bewildered but pleased with your sister's odd behavior, you headed for bed, hoping that Alexia would be more normal, if still just as caring, tomorrow.

-----

You knew that was out of the question when your door opened softly an hour after you went to bed. You turned, not having fallen asleep yet, seeing your sister stood in the doorway, a blanket in hand, worrying her lip between her teeth.

"What's up?"

"Can I sleep in here? I'm worried about your face, I can't fall asleep." Alexia admitted, taking one step forward before pausing, looking anxiously at you.

You blinked at her for a minute, wondering if this was some kind of bizarre dream where your sister had undergone a personality transplant, before nodding.

"If you want," you agreed, scooting over to make room for you sister. She climbed onto the bed eagerly, smiling at you. You smiled back, wondering if it was possible that your sister was on drugs. She took several minutes to get comfortable, settling under the covers before turning on her side to face where you lay on your back, eyes closed. You could feel her watching you.

"Alexia you can't sleep in here if you're going to stare at me all night like a psychopath." You said, not opening your eyes.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just worried. I'll stop now." Alexia promised, rolling onto her back too.

You didn't say anything for a moment, not wanting to ruin the very sweet moment you were having with you sister, but also feeling curiosity burn through you.

"You're being really weird." You said finally.

Alexia sighed, like she'd known this was coming.

"Am I dying or something and no one bothered to tell me? Is that why you're being so nice to me?" You were only half joking. Alexia sighed again, and somehow, it sounded guilty. "Am I?" You asked, opening your eyes and looking at the blonde.

"No, idiota, you aren't dying. I'm just... I'm trying to be a better sister."

You heard all the time that your sister was awkward, but you'd never really gotten that vibe from her until now.

"Oh. Okay. You're a good sister already, Ale." You said gruffly, looking away from her.

Alexia blinked at you. "Well, I'm glad you think so, but there is always room for improvement. You shouldn't be surprised when I'm nice to you, or take care of you. That should be normal."

"Thanks." You said after a minute, clearing your throat. You hated when Alexia was so nice it made you cry. Hated it.

"You don't have to thank me. I love you, hermanita." Alexia said, and there was no mistaking the vulnerability in her voice.

You were so going to tell Alba about this, and make fun of Alexia endlessly for being so bad at human emotions. For now, though, you rolling into her side a little, resting your head on her shoulder.

"I love you too, Ale."

Alexia smiled to herself. God, she normally hated when her girlfriend proved her wrong, but this time, it had been so needed. She was greatful for Olga, and for you, for being so forgiving. It was very youngest sister of you, never holding a grudge. She loved you. A lot. She was going to be better about showing it.

-----

this got out of hand i won't lie.

hope you enjoyed :)

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #platonic #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader

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seungkw1 · 3 months ago

Text

don’t you want me, baby? — yjh [SIDE A]

🎧 spotify playlist

🖭 pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader 🖭 theme: 80s au, romance, humor 🖭 wc: 12.5k 🖭 warnings: part 1: smoking (brief), underage drinking, mildly suggestive, 95z are idiots (lovingly); part 2: smut 🖭 a/n: this fic parallels a mixtape and takes place over the course of most of reader’s life - Side A (this part) is childhood through high school and Side B (part 2) will be through college. the names of the chapters correspond to the playlist linked above, make sure to check it out :) shoutout to @lovetaroandtaemin and @miniseokminnies for beta reading <3 // this was written for the @camandemstudios Lonely Hearts Cafe collab! check out the full masterlist here!!

You've known Jeonghan nearly your whole life. At first, he was just the annoying kid who lived down the street, but eventually you became part of the same friend group. You date his best friend for a bit, but when that relationship ends, you begin to spend more time with him - one-on-one. Soon, you start to realize that there might be more to your relationship with Jeonghan than you initially thought.

TRACKLIST: SIDE A Track 01: Don’t You Want Me – The Human League Track 02: Jessie’s Girl – Rick Springfield Track 03: Take on Me – a-ha Track 04: What I Like About You – The Romantics Track 05: Tainted Love – Soft Cell SIDE B Track 06: The Boys Of Summer – Don Henley Track 07: Don’t You (Forget About Me) – Simple Minds Track 08: Everybody Wants To Rule The World – Tears for Fears Track 09: Let’s Dance – David Bowie Track 10: Can’t Fight This Feeling – REO Speedwagon Track 11: You Make My Dreams (Come True) – Daryll Hall & John Oates

🖭 Track 01: Don’t You Want Me – The Human League

🎶 You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me

[1973, Spring - Third Grade]

“Y/n!”

You turn at the sound of your name. It’s your annoying neighbor and classmate, Jeonghan, chasing you down as you walk home. You had both just gotten off the school bus - he lives on the same street as you, just a few doors down. Unfortunate. As if seeing him all day in class wasn’t bad enough. You’re already past his house, but now it appears he’s following you to yours. You turn back around and continue down the sidewalk, choosing to ignore him - but he’s persistent.

“Hey y/n!! Wait up!”

You pick up your pace, but the sound of his sneakers smacking against the concrete gets louder as he runs after you, quickly catching up. You yelp as he yanks you by the handle of your backpack, sending you flying backwards. You crash into him, knocking the both of you to the ground.

“Ow! What the hell, Jeonghan!!” you shout as you scramble to get off of him. You roll to the side, lightly scraping your knees as you catch yourself. It hurts, but at the moment you have a bigger problem to deal with.

“You can’t say H-E-double hockey sticks, that’s a BAD WORD!” he yells back, trying to get up off the ground, but with a swift push of your foot you knock him back down.

“Hey, no fair!!” he squeaks at you, wiggling away as he jumps back to his feet. “I’m telling my mom!”

“What are you gonna tell her, that you got beat up by a girl?” you taunt. He opens his mouth to argue back, but he realizes you’re right. Scowling, he sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry at you, before turning around and running off back to his own house. Annoyed, you brush the dirt off your knees and head home.

Stupid boys, you think to yourself. I am NEVER EVER going to kiss one.

[1978, Fall - Eighth Grade]

The crisp autumn breeze rushes through your hair as you vigorously pedal your three-speed bicycle uphill. As you reach the hilltop, the image of the town unfolds before you: you see the arcade, the pharmacy, various shops and newspaper stands - but most importantly, your destination: the movie theater. You swing your feet out as you drift over the peak, releasing the pedals, letting gravity take over as you plummet downhill as fast as a rocket. As you near the theater, you apply the brakes, slowing yourself to a more reasonable pace as you ride up onto the sidewalk. Outside the entrance sits your best friend, Valerie; she looks up as you approach, giving you a friendly wave.

“Finally, there you are,” she tells you with a grin as you hop off your bike and park it at the rack. “Let's go get our tickets.”

You start walking toward the ticket booth together, when a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

“Valerie! Y/n!”

You turn around, spotting a group of boys hanging out in the alley - it's your classmates, Joshua, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan. You frown, glancing sideways at Valerie, but she's already skipping over toward them. You don't particularly care for these three, but it's no secret that she has a huge crush on Seungcheol. Reluctantly, you follow.

“Hi boys,” she says as you two approach the alleyway, practically batting her eyelashes at Cheol. “What are you all doing here?”

Joshua beckons to the both of you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Come over here, look what Jeonghan’s got.”

As you step into the alley, Jeonghan reaches into his pocket. With a smirk, he pulls out a very crushed box of Marlboros. He opens the flap to reveal two cigarettes inside; he takes one out, holding the filter awkwardly between his forefinger and thumb.

“Stole these from my dad,” he informs you proudly. You stare dully back at him, unamused.

“Gimme the lighter,” he says to Joshua, holding his free hand out demandingly. Joshua reaches into the breast pocket of his jean jacket, retrieving a worn silver zippo and setting it in Jeonghan’s open palm. He flicks the lid open with his thumb as he places the cigarette to his lips. Snapping the wheel, the lighter ignites - but is immediately extinguished by a gust of cold wind.

“You have to put your hand over it, dipshit,” Seungcheol says as he tries to snatch the zippo, but Jeonghan quickly blocks him with his elbow.

“Ouch!” Cheol whines.

“Shut up, I got this,” Jeonghan gripes, flicking the lighter open again. He raises the flame to the unlit end, this time blocking the wind with his other hand. The paper catches, glowing orange as he inhales - taking far too long of a drag. A coughing fit hits him, turning away as his poor unprepared lungs try to expel the smoke. Cheol rolls his eyes.

“Gimme that,” he snaps as he whisks the cigarette from Jeonghan’s fingers. He places it to his lips, taking a far more careful drag than Jeonghan did, but it’s still too much. With a harsh cough, he quickly rids himself of the cigarette by shoving it into Joshua’s hands. Unbothered by his friends’ current state, he pretends to take a drag, exhaling nothing as he shakes his head at the other two coughing boys.

“You guys are stupid,” he scorns. He turns, offering the cig to you and Valerie. Val stares at Cheol and Jeonghan, still coughing, a mildly disgusted expression on her face.

“No, thank you,” she tells him, waving her hand in dismissal of the cigarette. Joshua shrugs, pretending to take another drag, but this time he accidentally inhales. He tries to stifle the cough that hits him this time, to no avail. With a grimace, he tosses the half-burnt cigarette to the ground, extinguishing it with a few stomps.

“So,” Seungcheol says as he rejoins the group, dragging Jeonghan by the arm, pretending like he didn’t just completely embarrass himself. “What movie are you guys going to see?”

“We’re seeing Grease,” you answer, causing the boys to snicker.

“Lame,” Joshua replies. You shoot a glare back at him.

“We’re seeing Halloween,” he continues. “But I guess that movie isn’t for girls.”

“Oh, please,” Valerie scoffs. “Girls can see any movie that boys can.”

“Yeah right,” Cheol taunts her. “It’s too scary, you would run away crying.”

“Nuh-uh!” Valerie exclaims, stamping her foot into the ground. “We’re no scaredy cats.”

“Prove it,” Jeonghan says smugly. “Come see Halloween with us.”

“We don’t want to see Halloween,” you reject. “We want to see Grease.”

“Okay, scaredy cat. I double-dog dare you.”

“We’ll do it,” Valerie answers Jeonghan before you can say another word. You turn, giving her a frown, but she’s too immersed in gazing at Cheol to notice your disapproval.

“Alright!” Seungcheol bursts out, punching his fist in the air. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

The three boys take off, racing back to the main street toward the theater. Valerie starts to follow them, but you tug on her arm.

“Do you really want to see Halloween?” you question - but you already know the answer.

“No,” she admits, crossing her arms and looking down at the ground. “But I want Seungcheol to like me. And I don’t think he’ll ever ask me out if I chicken out now.”

You don’t think that’s true, but you also don’t really want to get into the inner workings of how teenage boys operate right now.

“Alright,” you concede, linking your arm with hers as you head toward the theater. “Besides, it can’t be that scary, right?”

It was, in fact, that scary.

You’re deeply embarrassed, but so are the boys. You may have screamed and cried for most of the movie, but they were no better. Jeonghan flew out of his seat with every jumpscare, Seungcheol was on the floor hiding for half of it, and Joshua was pretending not to be scared, but he had his eyes shut tight the whole time. Valerie was just as scared as you were, but her plan to catch Seungcheol’s eye was apparently successful. They walked out of the theater side by side, giggling together. You don’t bother hiding your displeasure, walking behind them grimacing at the back of Seungcheol’s dumb head. Joshua departs from the group, taking off running in the direction of his house without a word. Now with no one else to bug, Jeonghan makes his way over to you.

“That was awesome, huh?” he says with a stupid grin you wish you could slap off his face.

“Right, that’s why you cried four times.” You catch the sight of Joshua’s back in the distance - he’s two blocks away now and still running at top speed.

“Did not! It was only three.”

“Whatever,” you remark, still distracted by a sprinting Joshua. He turns the corner onto his street, out of your line of sight. You focus your attention back to Jeonghan, who is now startlingly close to you. You’re a good two inches taller than him, so he has to look up at you - and the look he has on his face now makes you nervous.

“So,” he starts, nudging his elbow into your arm. “Wanna go grab a soda?”

You stare at him, blindsided by his sudden change of attitude towards you. Where did this come from?

“What?”

“Do you want to go grab a soda with me?” he repeats.

“No, I heard you,” you tell him with a puzzled look on your face. “I mean, are you asking me out?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan nods coolly. “I am. Figured it was about time.”

“About time?? What exactly does that mean?”

“Come on, y/n,” he tells you, the stupid grin back on his face. “Everybody knows you like me.”

You stop in your tracks. Jeonghan turns back, facing you to see you stare at him incredulously.

“I do NOT ‘like you’. Not like that!” you snap, thoroughly annoyed. He smirks at your denial, irritating you further. “In fact,” you add, “I barely even like you at all.”

He chuckles, clearly not planning to believe you.

“Sure, whatever you say. Anyway, how about that soda?”

“You’re insufferable,” you retort with a glare before walking off.

“So is that a no?” you hear him ask behind you, but you ignore it. You head toward your parked bike, now sitting alone in the rack as Valerie and Cheol are nowhere to be seen. With a sigh you hoist your leg over the seat, ready to get the hell out of there. You take off, noticing Jeonghan still standing where you left him, watching you with a curious look on his face. He looks almost… sad? That can’t be right. For a moment you pause, wondering if you actually hurt his feelings. But then he winks at you, his lips curling back into that pretentious smirk. With an eye roll you pedal off into the street, your cheeks stinging once more as you ride into the cold wind.

What a lousy day, you think to yourself. If you never saw Jeonghan or his dumb friends again, it would be too soon.

🖭 Track 02: Jessie’s Girl – Rick Springfield

🎶 I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot

[1982, Fall - Junior Year]

riiiiiiiiiiiiiing

Your head snaps up as the harsh bell resonates from the hallway. You squint your eyes closed again as the classroom lights are suddenly turned on, signalling the end to the school day and the end to whatever boring video your chemistry teacher had decided to play instead of teaching today. Stifling a yawn, you toss your books into your backpack and swing it over your shoulder as you sluggishly traipse out the classroom door. The buzzing hallways quickly wake you up, filled with chatter and commotion as students flock to their lockers and out the doors. You locate your own locker, mindlessly spinning the combination lock until the door opens with a clunk. You rummage through your belongings, grabbing the notebooks and textbooks you need for homework tonight. As you swing the door closed, a face materializes inches away from you.

“Shit!” you jump, before registering the face’s owner as your boyfriend, Joshua. You give him a swift shove - he dramatically pretends to fall against the wall of lockers. You roll your eyes as you start to walk away. Joshua quickly catches up, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as you exit the building.

“So,” he starts, grinning in a way that makes you immediately suspicious. “I had an idea.”

“Oh god,” you groan. “What is it now?”

“Aw come on, you never like my ideas,” he pouts.

“Yeah, because they’re always crazy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Last time you had a grand idea, Seungcheol had to go to the hospital to get stitches, and we got escorted home in a cop car,” you remind him. “I was grounded for weeks.”

“How was I supposed to know that construction site was off-limits?” he asks with feigned ignorance. You raise your eyebrow at him, unamused.

“Probably by the signs everywhere that said ‘DO NOT ENTER’.”

He shrugs it off. “Okay, you got me there. But I promise this time it’s nothing crazy.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“So, are you game?”

“Maybe,” you answer. “If you actually tell me what it is first.” He grins, the mischievous look on his face making you skeptical already.

“Just a small party. Jeonghan’s parents are out of town, so we’re gonna hang there.”

“And who’s all going?”

“Me, Cheol, Hannie obviously, Soonyoung… ya know, the usual suspects,” he replies. “Bring Val and anyone else who’s cool.”

“Alright, fine” you sigh. His face instantly lights up.

“Awesome! Party starts at 8:30.”

You stop walking, clutching onto his arm and turning him to face you.

“You promise it won’t get out of hand?”

He takes your hands in his, nodding earnestly.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Well that seems a little dramatic,” you pretend to scoff, but a smile peeks through. He grins back, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“See you there, then.”

“Truth.”

Val focuses on Joshua, waiting for his question. You think truth or dare is a stupid game, juvenile at best, but everybody always seems to want to play.

“Okay,” he replies to her smugly. “Who was your first kiss?”

Panic flashes through her eyes for a brief moment, but she plays it cool. You know her answer, and you know why she wouldn’t want to share. She pauses, pursing her lips, but Joshua is impatient.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” he taunts. Her eyes flicker around the room, glancing at Cheol, then at you, then back at Cheol.

“It’s okay babe, you can say it. I don’t mind,” Cheol assures her, lying.

You spot Soonyoung quietly getting up, ostensibly to grab another pop. Val sees him too, narrowing her eyes at his back.

“Fine,” she admits. “It was Soonyoung.”

“WHAT?!” Jeonghan exclaims, nearly doing a spit-take with his cup of Sprite.

“No way,” Joshua responds, smirking as he glances at Seungcheol, whose face is quickly turning cherry-red. He bites his lip, attempting to remain nonchalant - to no avail. Val inadvertently giggles at him, immediately clasping her hand over her mouth. Cheol glares at Soonyoung, who is halfway to the kitchen, giving a solid huff before he flies out of his seat - Soonyoung sees him and flees, but Cheol is faster. He tackles his friend through the doorway, followed by the sounds of several objects clanking against the floor.

“Hey!” Jeonghan yells after them. “Don’t trash the place you idiots!!” He saunters after them, making sure the two don’t actually break anything - household objects nor bones. As he disappears into the kitchen the doorbell rings.

“Are you expecting more people?” you ask, glancing at Joshua.

“Oh yeah I invited Mark - you know, from the basketball team,” he replies. “It’s probably him. Wanna get it, Val?”

“Not really,” she responds, staring dully at him. “But sure, I guess.”

She gets up and heads to answer the door, leaving you and Joshua alone in the living room. A big goofy grin spreads across his face as he slides over toward you, cornering you against the arm of the couch as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Finally, a moment of peace,” he tells you as he draws your face in close. A loud bang resonates from the kitchen.

“You know Seungcheol is kicking Soonyoung’s ass in the other room right now, right?”

“Eh, they’re fine.”

He presses his lips softly against yours, pulling your body in close and resting his hand upon your thigh. You kiss him back, butterflies in your stomach as you savor the rare moment of alone time with your boyfriend.

“Ahem.”

You jump, breaking this kiss to see Jeonghan standing in the doorway.

“If you must do that, get a room, will you?” he asks, clearly irked. You feel your face grow hot.

“Sorry,” you mumble. Joshua opens his mouth, ready to tell his friend off, but he’s interrupted by the newcomers entering the living room. You recognize Mark, but it appears he brought the entire basketball team with him - a large string of boys wander into the room, the sound of “Eye of the Tiger” filling the air as a particularly tall one carries in a boombox on his shoulder. Soonyoung and Seungcheol stumble back in, hair and clothes tussled, pretending like nothing just happened.

“Hey Mingi!” Soonyoung shouts gleefully to the tall boombox boy. “Turn that shit up!”

You cast a nervous glance at Joshua. “I didn’t think there would be this many people here,” you tell him.

“Relax, y/n, it’s okay,” he says with his usual cheery smile on his face. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping off the couch to greet the entourage.

You look around for Val, but she appears to have disappeared, probably off somewhere with Cheol. Soonyoung and Joshua are engaged in a passionate debate about who would win in a fight between Indiana Jones and E.T., for some reason. Aside from Mark, you don’t really know anybody on the basketball team, but he’s in the middle of an arm wrestling match anyway. Once again, you have nobody to talk to. Why does this always happen to me, you mope to yourself. Sighing, you stand up and make your way to the kitchen in search of another Coke. Any excuse to leave the room that is growing more chaotic by the moment.

The chatter and shouting is still audible from the kitchen, but it’s certainly much quieter. You head to the fridge, spotting Jeonghan already there. He notices you, turning his head and giving you a nod.

“Hey, y/n.”

“Hay is for horses,” you reply. He raises his brow at you, letting out a small laugh. He grabs a Coke from the fridge and hands it to you.

“Oh, thanks.” The can lets out a crisp hissss as you pop the tab.

“I didn’t know so many people would be coming,” you remark as you take a sip.

“Me neither,” he says with a concerned frown, glancing toward the noisy living room full of teenagers. A loud crashing noise echoes from amidst the crowd of people, followed by Soonyoung whooping loudly.

“Oh god,” Jeonghan grumbles. “I’m gonna be so grounded.”

“You should tell them to tone it down,” you suggest. “It’s your house after all.”

“No way,” he says as he shakes his head. “They’re gonna think I’m so lame.”

“Who cares?” you tell him.

He opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by an eruption of cheering. He wanders over to the doorway, peering out to see what the commotion is; you follow. There are even more people here than there were before, the living room now filled with even more jocks and a group of preps - all seniors - who appear to have brought several cases of beer.

“Shit,” Jeonghan mumbles under his breath, staring nervously at the crowd of high schoolers passing red solo cups filled with alcohol around the room.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, turning to look at him. He’s standing much closer to you than you realized, but with you both in the doorway you don’t have much room to back up without it being obvious. You notice for the first time that he has really long eyelashes, framing his eyes as they shift nervously around the chaotic scene.

One of the preppy girls bounces over to you two, holding out two cups of beer.

“Rad party, Jeonghan,” she smiles at him, handing him one of the drinks. To your surprise, he takes it. She turns to give the other drink to you, pausing to quickly look you up and down.

“And what’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” you tell her bluntly, not doing much to hide your annoyance at her attitude.

“Riiight,” she replies, her fake smile dropping. She gives up on trying to hand you the beer and turns back to Jeonghan, raising her cup to his before she takes a drink. Hesitantly, he raises the cup to his lips and takes a sip, trying his best not to make a face at the bitter taste. She stares at him for a moment before deciding that he is too lame for her. She gives him a soft “hm” of disapproval, and with a flip of her hair she turns and heads back to her snooty friends. Jeonghan looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die. He takes another swig of the beer, making another face as he stares into the pale yellow liquid in his cup.

“Are you really going to drink that?” you ask. He shrugs, still staring at the rowdy crowd of people in his parent’s living room.

“It’s fine,” he mumbles. “This is making me feel like I need a drink anyway.”

“Okay…” you reply skeptically. “Just be careful.”

He turns, making eye contact with you. He looks like he wants to say something, but he changes his mind.

“Yeah, I will,” he sighs.

You spend the rest of the night dodging people trying to give you beer. Joshua gets mildly drunk, coming to find you a few times to make sure you’re okay, but eventually he gets sucked into a heated and seemingly endless game of Uno. The party progresses more or less without issue - that is, until there is no more beer.

“Hey Yoon, you gonna bust out your parents’ alcohol stash for us or what?” one of the inebriated meathead jocks hollers across the room to Jeonghan, who is in the middle of putting on a new record. Fear flashes across his face.

“Yeah, break out the booze!” the mean girl from earlier shouts.

His eyes dart around the room, panickedly looking for one of his friends; his eyes land on you, silently begging you to help him. Not knowing what to do, you give him a solid nod before running off to find Seungcheol. If these drunk morons are going to listen to anyone, it’ll be him. You eventually find him off in a corner making out with Val.

“Hey,” you blurt out. Cheol turns to you, prepared to be mad at you for interrupting their makeout sesh, but he sees the concerned look on your face.

“What is it?” he asks sincerely.

“We have a problem.”

You frantically start to explain, but he quickly picks up the issue. He storms back toward the living room; you and Val follow, peeking around the corner.

“Alright, party’s over,” his voice booms through the room of drunken teens. The crowd starts to boo him.

“Come on Choi, don’t be a square,” one of the jocks shouts back at him.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!!!,” he screams. “NOW!!!!!!”

Begrudged murmurs ripple through the crowd, but everyone slowly begins to shuffle out.

“And none of you better be fucking driving!!” he adds.

He herds the last of the partygoers out, locking the door behind them. Joshua, having laid on the couch just a moment ago, is somehow already fast asleep. Jeonghan stares at him for a moment before settling for sitting on the floor, his back resting against the couch. He runs his hand through this hair, staring at the mess left behind by nearly half the school: solo cups littered around the room, empty cans carelessly tossed aside, spilled beer puddled upon every surface. And judging by the sour stench starting to reek, it’s soaked into the carpet too.

“This was a stupid idea,” he mumbles, holding his head in his hands.

“It’s not your fault,” you assure him, taking a seat on the floor next to him. “It wasn’t supposed to get this out of hand.”

“I should’ve known, though.” He sighs, letting out a disheartened laugh. “Things always go wrong for me.”

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you for a moment, but his gaze falls back to his shoes.

“I dunno, every time Joshua does something crazy it works out fine for him.” He nudges his head toward his sleeping friend on the couch above. “But when I try to have fun I always get in trouble.”

“Well, Joshua’s an idiot.”

“I heard that…” Joshua murmurs from the couch, before turning over and falling back asleep. An amused smile appears on Jeonghan’s face for a moment.

“Anyway, we’ll clean everything up,” you tell him. “It’ll be alright. It won’t take too long between the five of us - well, four. Actually… Where the hell is Soonyoung?” you ask Seungcheol as he walks back into the room.

“In the bathroom. With his head in the toilet.”

“Lovely. How much did he drink??”

“One beer.”

Jeonghan snorts. “How embarrassing.”

You chuckle under your breath. Jeonghan suddenly rises to his feet; you follow suit.

“What should we listen to while we clean?” he asks, heading over to the record player.

“How about AC/DC? ‘Have a Drink on Me’?,” you suggest. Jeonghan shoots you a look out of the corner of his eye, making Cheol giggle.

“No? Maybe some Judas Priest? ‘Breaking the Law’?”

He narrows his eyes at you, pretending to be irked, but the corners of his mouth twitch into a slight smile.

“How about no,” he retorts. Turning back to the stack of records, he pulls out a purple album. “Here, this should be good.”

He spins the vinyl in his hands before setting it on the turntable. He moves the needle into place - heavy synth notes fill the air as the familiar track begins, making you grin. Jeonghan disappears into the kitchen for a moment, returning with several trash bags and a roll of paper towels. He hands you a bag, then tosses the roll to Seungcheol.

“Right, well, let’s get to work.”

The sound of Prince singing ‘We’re gonna party like it’s 1999' plays as you start collecting the plethora of empty cans strewn about seemingly the entire house, Jeonghan joining you. You think it would be more efficient if he started on the other side of the room, instead of following behind you, but you keep it to yourself. Val makes a reappearance, looking only slightly queasy; she joins her boyfriend in wiping away the spilled drinks. You glance at your own boyfriend again, asleep on the couch still - and now snoring lightly. You let out a sigh that you don’t mean to be audible, but Jeonghan picks up on it.

“You okay?” he asks you sincerely.

You pause for a moment. Are you okay?? It's a question you've been asking yourself a lot recently. You do love Joshua, and even outside of dating him, he is a good friend. But, something has felt different lately - you can't quite put your finger on it, but things just haven't been the same. You feel a lump welling in the back of your throat, threatening tears. Now is not the time to overthink about your relationship - you decide to swallow your words before you get emotional.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie, hoping he won’t prod further. He pauses, waiting in case you change your mind, but you go back to picking up cans in silence.

“Y/n,” he starts. His voice is soft, hesitant. You turn back to face him - you can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue, something he’s nervous to say.

“What is it?” you ask. He licks his lips, debating whether to tell you. With a deep exhale, he quickly shakes his head.

“There’s a can in that plant right next to you,” he says, pointing to the large potted palm. “Wasn’t sure if you saw it.”

You peek through the leaves - sure enough, a crushed Coors can lay crumpled atop the soil.

“Oh, thanks.” You pick it up and toss it in the trash bag, it landing upon the others with an unpleasant clanking sound. Over your shoulder you see Jeonghan still looking at you - you turn to look at him again, but he quickly occupies himself with the trash. He’s acting a bit odd, but you brush it off - he has had a shitty night, after all. You make your way across the room, joining Val as she sops up beer off the fine china cabinet. Still feeling eyes on your back, you glance toward Jeonghan, who is still looking at you, the expression on his face indecipherable. His focus on you is broken by Seungcheol joining him, handing him a cold can of Sprite.

“Here,” you say, turning toward Val. “Let me help.” She rips off a few paper towels and places them in your outstretched hand. You lean down to scrub the damp carpet.

Whatever Jeonghan’s problem is, you decide it’s not your business.

“Here you go.”

Jeonghan snaps out of staring at the back of your head, turning to his friend offering him a Sprite.

“Thanks, man,” he tells him sincerely. He barely had had any beer, but his head was already starting to ache. Nothing the sugar in an ice cold pop can’t handle, he thinks, though considering that he’s never had a drink in his life he’s not sure how he would know that. Regardless, the cold Sprite tastes delicious after the lousy night it’s been.

“What were you and y/n talking about?” Seungcheol asks. Jeonghan jumps slightly at the question, but he realizes he just was genuinely asking - he’s never told his best friend about his life-long crush on you, so why would Cheol be suspicious?

“Hm? Oh, nothing really,” he answers nonchalantly. “Just in disbelief of how much mess some teenagers can make in a couple hours.”

“You said it, dude,” Seungcheol agrees, face contorting into a disgusted expression as he realizes he's just picked up a used tissue with his bare hands. “Blech,” he gags as he chucks it into Jeonghan's trash bag. “That's nasty." He swiftly disappears into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Left momentarily alone, Jeonghan’s mind begins to wander. He stares at his other best friend, who’s passed out on the couch. He’s known Joshua pretty much his whole life - people even call them twins sometimes, due to how similar their personalities are. And they're not wrong, it doesn't bother him. But sometimes, if he starts thinking too much, he wonders why you ended up with Joshua and not him. It’s no secret that out of the two of them, Joshua is far more charming and socially adept. And besides, Joshua made his move first. He can’t blame him for that when he had spent his whole life too afraid to even talk to you. He knows it's a stupid thing to ruminate over - but he can't help it. I’m in love with my best friend’s girlfriend, he thinks to himself, and there's nothing I can do about it. He turns his gaze to you, eyes wistful as he watches you from across the room.

And why did I almost confess that to her just a moment ago?

🖭 Track 03: Take on Me – a-ha

🎶 Oh, I'll be comin' for your love, okay

[1983, Spring - Junior Year]

You shuffle through the gravelly school parking lot toward the brown Ford Pinto parked in its usual end spot. You yank the door open, startling Joshua and making him jump so high he bonks his head upon the carpeted roof. You plop into the passenger seat and slam the door shut behind you, letting out a loud sigh as you let your backpack slide to the floor. Joshua stares at you for a moment, rubbing his head. You stare back at him, neither one of you wanting to break the silence first, but you don’t have the patience today.

“So, are you going to actually talk to me now?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, thinking over his answer. For once, you think to yourself.

“I’m sorry, y/n, really,” he finally responds. “I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.”

“So you admit it, you were ignoring me then,” you point out.

Realizing he’s already made a mistake, his shoulders drop as he sinks into the seat. He rests his left wrist atop the steering wheel as he stares at nothing in particular through the windshield.

“I just didn’t know what to do,” he tells you downheartedly. Your stomach sinks - you know exactly where this is going.

“Just say it, Joshua.”

Sheepishly he looks back to you, his face apologetic.

“I think we should break up.”

Even though you had mentally prepared for this moment, it still hurts. You turn away, leaning your head against the window as you stare off into the distance - you told yourself you weren’t going to cry, but your eyes start to water anyway. You take a deep breath, shoving the tears back down, but you still can’t look him in the eyes.

“Okay.”

He pauses, waiting for you to go on, but you say nothing.

“So it’s mutual, then?” he asks quietly. You nod, still staring out the window. He lets out a sigh, somewhat relieved, but mostly melancholy. You both knew this was coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“Can we still be friends?”

Your attention shifts, bringing your gaze back into the car. You turn, making eye contact with him. He seems nervous - he’s been avoiding this very conversation for fear of tearing the friend group apart. It’s the last thing he wants to happen, but he didn't know how you would feel about it.

“Yeah,” you answer, mustering up a slight smile. “Of course.”

His head drops back against the headrest, a massive weight lifting from his shoulders.

“Oh thank god,” he says with a deep exhale. The edges of your lips twitch into a slight grin as you try not to laugh at his reaction. But you too are relieved.

He sits back up, reaching for the ignition. With a turn of the key, the dated car whirrs to life with a series of mildly concerning noises.

“Need a ride home?”

“I’m gonna walk over to the library, actually,” you tell him as you pop the door latch and hop out of the car. That went much better than expected, but you still need to get the hell out of there. Grabbing your backpack, you go to give him the usual ‘love ya’, but you catch yourself. You stare at him blankly for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

“Well, see you later then,” is what you land on; it comes out a bit too formally.

“See you later.”

You walk past the car and toward the main street. The library was an excuse, but you decide to head there anyway. Joshua watches you walk away for a bit, wondering if you’ll turn back around, but you don’t.

The last few months of junior year dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Like you both agreed, you and Joshua remained friends, and thus the friend group was saved. But, that didn’t stop things from being a bit weird. Nobody really knew what to do about it, but everyone reached an unspoken agreement to pretend like nothing happened. It was fine, for the most part, but you still found yourself avoiding Joshua at all costs. It ended up being pretty easy, as he was also avoiding you, and just spending noticeably less time with the whole group in general. Seungcheol and Val were still connected at the hip, of course. So, in a strange turn of events, you started hanging out with Jeonghan on the regular.

It was a little odd at first - not uncomfortable, you’ve known him your whole life, so spending one-on-one time with him was no biggie. But the frequency of you hanging out together, just you and him - that was certainly new.

One of the first new Jeonghan-related discoveries you made was that you have a hobby in common: Legos.

You didn’t really know anyone else who built Lego sets except for nerdiest kids in school, so it was information you generally kept to yourself, in the interest of not being made fun of. But one day, you make an off-hand comment about it.

Jeonghan’s face perks up, looking up at you from across the table. You’re currently in the mall food court, sharing a large serving of greasy french fries.

“You like Legos?” he asks, eyes wide as saucers. You shrug at him.

“Yup,” you reply nonchalantly. “Surprise, I’m a huge nerd.”

He leans forward, putting his elbows on the table as he gets closer to you, a smirk painted across his face.

“I fucking love Legos,” he mutters under his breath.

And so, you end up in Jeonghan’s bedroom for the first time.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, you let him show you his favorites builds out of the dozens of completed sets on display around the room. You note the large pile of books on the floor, cleared out from the bookshelf to make space for even more Legos.

In the middle of telling you all about the Surface Rover set in his hands, he pauses, having suddenly become self-conscious of just how long he’s been talking.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, embarrassed. “I’m probably boring you.”

“No no,” you pipe up, “These are so cool.” You smile at him reassuringly, making the mistake of direct eye contact. He stares at you through dark, pretty eyelashes, with an intensity that makes your stomach do a flip. It lingers for a moment, until he fully processes what is happening - he panics, staring at you with eyes even rounder than usual, before speedily looking down at the spacecraft in his hand. He occupies himself by fiddling with one of the tiny pieces, clicking it off and on several times.

“Um, so,” he says as he places the ship back on its shelf. “What do you wanna do now?”

You’d already spent the whole afternoon with Jeonghan at the mall, and normally you would’ve gone home by now. You’ve never spent this much time with him - with just him - at once before.

“Um, I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully. You shift upon the bed, drawing your legs up to sit criss-cross applesauce. Jeonghan stands there awkwardly for a moment, empty-handed and not sure what to do next either. His eyes drift around the room, searching for quite literally anything to talk about. They light up as he spots a shoebox over on his desk, a grin spreading across his face.

“Wanna see something?”

“What kind of something?” you inquire, but he already has the box in hand. He makes his way to join you on the bed, plopping down right next to you - so close that his outer thigh brushes against your knee. You wait for him to scoot back a bit, but he doesn’t. He opens the shoebox, revealing a jumbled collection of old polaroids. He flips through them until he finds what he’s looking for. He picks up the photo, giggling at it for a second before handing it over. Taking it from him, you see a photo of some little kids at what you can only assume is a birthday party, based on the pointy hats and cake slices. A clown poses behind the kids, holding a balloon animal with a big goofy expression on his face - much to the chagrin of the girl on the right, who is in tears. You stare at it for a moment before it registers.

“Hey!” you exclaim, making Jeonghan burst out laughing.

“Look at your face,” he teases, pointing to the girl in the photo. “You HATED that clown.”

“Yeah, and I still hate clowns to this day because of him!!” you pout, shoving him in the arm.

“Well that’s just rude. He was a very nice man.”

“Well, look at your stupid face!” you stammer back. “You got frosting all over yourself like an idiot.”

“You can’t be mean to me, it was my birthday!”

“Yeah, like a million years ago,” you say, rolling your eyes at him, but you crack a smile as you laugh.

“Here,” you say as you hand it back to him. “Take it away.”

“You can keep it.”

“Why on earth would I want this?”

“You’re right, let me keep it,” he says as he reaches for the polaroid. “That way I can show everybody at school.”

“On second thought, I will keep it,” you respond, drawing the photo back out of his reach - but not before he leans over onto you trying to snatch it from your hand. He leans so far that he loses balance, nearly tipping over entirely onto you. His hand falls upon your thigh to catch himself.

Time seems to go in slow-mo as he glances up at you, a big devious smile lighting up his face; he makes eye contact with you again, this time so close so very close oh my god, his face mere inches from yours. His grin begins to fade as he realizes just how close he is to you right now, the expression of pure joy on his face shifting into one of equal parts terror and mesmerization.

And as suddenly as it happened - the moment is gone.

Jeonghan sits back up, retracting his hands into his lap, pretending to be very interested in a mysterious dark stain on the carpet. You unfold your legs, swinging your feet back down to the floor.

“I should probably get going,” you announce as you hop up off of the bed. “I promised my mom I’d be home by dinnertime.” You pick your backpack up off the floor and sling it over one shoulder, turning around to say goodbye.

“See you later, alligator.”

He smiles at you softly, giving you a playful salute.

“After while, crocodile.”

[1983, Summer Break]

“Okay, now which character do you think you’re most similar to?”

Harsh sunlight greets your eyes as you step out of the cool, dim theater into the stuffy summer heat. Jeonghan slurps the last of his Sprite from the plastic theater cup, tossing the empty drink at a nearby trash can, which he completely misses. He scurries after the cup as it starts to roll down the sidewalk; snatching it up, he walks humbly back to the trash and carefully places it in the bin. Rejoining you, he gives you an expectant look, waiting for your response to his question.

“Hmm,” you reply as you rack your brain for names of Star Wars characters. Jeonghan rented the first two movies and forced you to watch them with him before Return of the Jedi came out so he could drag you to go see it with him. You didn’t mind the films, you actually ended up liking them a lot more than you expected, but there were just TOO many characters to keep track of.

“I don’t know. Princess Leia, I suppose?”

“No way,” he immediately rejects, shaking his head. “You’re not that cool.”

“Umm, rude much??”

He snickers, amused with himself as usual. For a long time, you thought Jeonghan was a real tool, considering that he seemed to constantly be insulting you. But as you grew closer to him, you realized that’s just what he does - the more he makes fun of you, the more he likes you.

“Okay dumbass, which character do you think you are? Let’s hear it.”

“Han Solo,” he responds without missing a beat.

“Pshhh,” you scoff at him. “Yeah right.”

“He’s cool, sarcastic, gets in trouble sometimes,” he explains. “An independent guy that doesn’t like being told what to do. Sound familiar?”

“Okay, fine,” you concede. “You’re definitely not that cool, but I’ll accept it.”

“And since I’m Han Solo, that means you’re Chewbacca.”

“WHAT?” you shout, much louder than you meant to. “I can accept being uncool, but I don’t want to be a big, hairy monster!”

“He’s not a monster,” he corrects you. “He’s a good guy!”

“Yeah, who’s big and hairy!”

“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover.”

You roll your eyes at him, a reaction you swear happens no fewer than fifteen times a day.

“You’re an idiot. Have I told you that?”

“Frequently,” he nods, giving you a proud grin.

You continue to banter as you walk back to Jeonghan’s car. The light blue ‘73 Mustang sits parked at the meter, sun reflecting off the windows. Since you don’t have your license yet, Jeonghan drives you pretty much everywhere these days. You secretly really like the car, and it actually makes your dork of a friend seem cool, but you refuse to ever tell him that. The ego boost it would give him would be insufferable.

“So, where to now?” he asks as you hop in his ride. He turns the ignition, the sporty engine rumbling to life.

“I should be heading home, actually,” you reply. His smile drops slightly for a moment, but he shakes it off.

“Already?” he protests, but he shifts the car into gear and takes off.

“I have to go to dinner with my family for my grandpa’s birthday.”

“Oh, nice,” he responds, but you can tell he’s a bit disappointed.

The rest of the ride is mostly silent, but not in an awkward way. That’s one thing you appreciate about Jeonghan - hanging out with him is comfortable enough that you don’t feel obligated to make small talk.

The car rolls to a stop as you arrive at your house. Although you live only a few houses apart, Jeonghan insists on driving past his home to drop you off in front of yours. “Don’t want you to get lost,” he always jokes.

“Wait,” Jeonghan calls out as you go to open the car door. You pause, hand on the door handle, as he pulls a cassette tape from the pocket of his cutoff jean shorts. Weird, considering that he normally just tosses his cassette tapes onto the dashboard, where they live until he brakes too hard and some of them slide off and land on the floor. He extends his hand to you, prompting you to take the tape.

“What is this?” you ask as you reach for the plastic case.

“A cassette tape,” he answers matter-of-factly. You whack him on the arm; he gives you a big grin.

“Alright, fine. It’s a mixtape.”

You look down at the clear case. On the paper insert, you see a tracklist - written neatly with a ballpoint pen. You recognize Jeonghan’s handwriting.

“What’s this for?” you ask, turning your head to look at him again. He shrugs.

“Just because.”

You stare at him for a moment. You’ve known Jeonghan long enough to know he doesn’t do things just because. You scan his face for a hint of ulterior motive, but he seems genuine.

“Oh,” you finally say. You’re still confused, but you don’t want to come off as rude, so you give him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” he replies coolly, his eyes lingering on you. Several more seconds of silence pass. He looks like he has something else to say, but he doesn’t. The car suddenly feels way too small.

“Okay, well, see ya later!” you say quickly as you pop the door open and hop out onto the sidewalk. Jeonghan gives you a wave as you shut the door - you turn around and quickly head inside.

Heading up to your room, you take a look at the tape again. Every song on the tracklist is one of your favorites. How did he know I like all of these? you ponder. You grab the Walkman sitting on your desk and go to insert the tape, but you pause. For some reason, it makes you nervous, as if listening to it will force you to think about your feelings about Jeonghan…

Shaking your head, you set the Walkman down, placing the cassette case on top of it.

Later, you tell yourself. I’ll listen to it later.

brrrrriiiiinggg

The sound of the telephone resonates through your headphones, bleeding over your music. You pause the tape and slide your headphones down onto your shoulders, listening to it ring a couple times before somebody elsewhere in the house picks up the line. A few seconds later, you hear your mom shout from downstairs.

“Y/n! It’s for you!”

You reach for the phone across your desk and pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“You’re back from dinner?” you hear Jeonghan ask.

“Well… Duh. How else would I be answering the phone?”

“Good,” he continues, disregarding your sarcastic comment - a rare occurrence for him. “Meet me at the playground in 15 minutes.”

“What? Why-” but the line clicks as he hangs up. Confused, you stare down at the receiver for a minute, the sound of the dull, steady tone filling your ears. You place the handset back on the base, jumping off your bed and grabbing your sneakers. You take a moment to shove some pillows under the covers before turning the light off. Quietly, you open your bedroom window and squeeze yourself out onto the roof, carefully stepping onto the branch that leads to the treehouse in your backyard. You climb down its ladder and drop to your feet silently upon the grass. You sneak out the side gate and head toward the neighborhood playground a few blocks away.

As you arrive, you see a figure with familiar long dark hair sitting on one of the swings. Your feet crunch on the gravel as you walk over to join him, making him turn his head.

“Hey,” you say as you sit on the swing next to his.

“Hey,” he replies.

Your toes brush against the ground beneath you, further displacing the gravel that has already been cleared away from swing usage. The light wind against your back pushes you slightly; you let yourself drift back and forth. You look at Jeonghan, waiting for an explanation.

“So?” you prompt. “What’s up?”

He bites his lip, staring off into the distance as he thinks over his words for a moment. Shaking his head, he looks back to you, eyes locking with yours.

“I like you.”

He says it so nonchalantly that it takes a few moments for you to register what he just said.

“What?”

“I like you,” he repeats. “Like, like like you. More than just a friend.”

Dumbstruck, you stare at him, lips parted ready to respond, but words escape you. Truthfully, you’re not even all that surprised by what he said - but his directness threw you for a loop.

“And I need to know how you feel, or I’m gonna lose my marbles.”

“I…” you start, but your words trail off as your mind wanders, thinking a million miles a minute.

“Even if you don’t like me back,” he adds. “We can still be friends and I’ll never bring it up again. Or if you don’t want to still be friends, I’ll respect that. I just have to know.”

“You’re right, we shouldn’t be friends anymore.” You can see his heart sink, but before he can say anything you reach over and grab the chain of his swing, drawing him toward you.

“I mean, we shouldn’t be just friends anymore.”

His face is close to yours, so close; you watch as the gears turn in his head, your words finally clicking. His eyes light up, a big cheeky grin spreading across his face.

“You little…”

You giggle, then lean in and kiss him.

🖭 Track 04: What I Like About You – The Romantics

🎶 Tell me I'm the only one / Wanna come over tonight, yeah

[1983, Fall - Senior Year]

The crowd erupts in a roar of cheering as the home team scores a touchdown, or so you presume. You’re currently a bit busy, making out with Jeonghan under the bleachers.

He stops kissing you for a second, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he locks eyes with you.

“Should I give you your birthday gift now?” he inquires, his lips pressing lightly against your nose.

“That tickles!” you giggle, pushing him away playfully, but he quickly draws you back into his arms.

“You already gave me my present, dummy,” you remind him, referring to the new Star Wars Lego set he gave you three days ago on your actual birthday. You’d had your eyes on it for a while, but it was expensive, so you were planning to save up for it, but he knew how badly you wanted it and decided to surprise you.

“I gave you one of your presents. But I have another one,” he informs you.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything else.”

“Hey, you only turn eighteen once,” he says with a shrug.

“Alright then, what is it?” you ask, smiling at him cutely.

“Can’t tell you.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.

“Ooookay…”

“I have to show you.”

He grabs your hand, dragging you back toward the hole in the fence where you snuck into the bleachers.

“C’mon, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

He takes you back to his car, driving out of the stadium parking lot into the dark night. He drives for a while, winding down various backroads, taking you god knows where.

“Are we there yet?”

“Not yet.”

You wait a few seconds before pestering him again.

“How about now?”

“Patience, babe.” He reaches his right hand over, resting it on top of your thigh. Your stomach flutters - it’s not like this is the first time he’s touched you like this, but something about it feels different tonight.

The trees seem to get more and more dense the further you drive. You trust your boyfriend, but it’s still a little spooky. Eventually, he pulls up to a clearing, shifting the car into park. You look around, but you still don’t see anything but trees.

“We’re here!” he says cheerfully. You stare at him suspiciously.

“And where exactly is ‘here’?” you inquire, but he’s already hopping out of the car. He makes his way over to the passenger side, opening your door and offering his hand. You take it, letting him help you out of the car, but you’re still a bit wary. He laces his fingers between yours, dragging you along into the trees.

“Watch your step,” he tells you as you come across a large tree root protruding into the path. As you step over it, you hear rustling up ahead, accompanied by the faint smell of smoke.

“Jeonghan…” you whisper nervously.

“Almost there, darling,” he responds, looking at you fondly. You see a break in the trees ahead - as you approach, you hear the soft splashing of water, and the orange glow of a bonfire comes into view.

“The lake? Why are we at the la-”

“SURPRISE!!!!!!”

You jump, startled by the choir of voices shouting at you all at once as the familiar faces of all your friends pop out all around you.

“SHIT,” you scream, instinctively clinging to Jeonghan. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you into him. You whack him in the stomach, but a big grin spreads across your face.

“You did all of this? Just for me?”

“Just for you,” he replies, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

Music starts to blare from a boombox as your friends swarm around you, hooting and hollering as the party begins. Somebody hands you a beer; Jeonghan has also acquired one - he raises his bottle to yours with a clink.

“Happy birthday, y/n.”

The party goes late into the night. Jeonghan had thought of everything: snacks, pizza, beer, balloons, and even smores. You sit around the bonfire, roasting a marshmallow and chatting with the few remaining partygoers - most people had headed out by now, it was almost midnight after all.

“Hey,” Jeonghan speaks softly as he appears next to you, scooting in close and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Hiii,” you say, the big goofy grin on your face giving away that you’re decently buzzed right now.

“How was the party?”

“It was perfect,” you tell him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Good,” he replies proudly. “I’m glad you liked it.” His fingers raise to your chin, lifting your face up toward him, planting his lips on yours in a soft kiss. As he draws his head back, a smirk grows upon his face.

“What?” you ask.

“Your marshmallow is on fire.”

Whipping your head back toward the bonfire, you see the giant marshmallow at the end of your stick engulfed in flames.

“Oh fuck!”

Giggling, he takes the stick from your hand and pulls the blackened sugar remnants out of the heart of the fire, shaking it a bit until it extinguishes.

“Man,” you pout, “I was looking forward to eating that.”

“Here, I’ll get you another one.”

Several lightly toasted marshmallows later, the last of your friends start to roll out. Seungcheol and Jeonghan put out the now-dwindling bonfire, the lakeside going dark in the absence of the flames. Everybody packs up, saying their goodbyes and driving off back into town. Finally, it’s just you and Jeonghan remaining. You start to head to his car, but he doesn’t follow.

“You coming or what?” you call, taking his hand, but he pulls you back toward him.

“Wanna do one last thing?” he asks, a smirk growing upon his face.

“Oh god,” you groan, looking at him skeptically. “What are you up to now?”

Saying nothing, he bolts off back toward the lake.

“Hey!!” you shout, jogging after him. He peels his shirt off as he speeds off, tossing it aside, running onto the old dock protruding out into the dark water. He reaches the end, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off, along with his socks and shoes in one fell swoop.

“Jeonghan Yoon, what the hell are you doing?!”

Standing there buck-ass naked, he looks back at you over his shoulder. He gives you a devious grin, then dives into the lake.

He surfaces as you reach the end of the dock, his long dark hair laying drenched against his face. He sweeps his hair back out of his face, eyes wide with rushing adrenaline.

“You coming in? The water’s nice!” he hollers, treading water to stay afloat.

“Is it really?” you ask, reaching down to dip your fingertips in the water.

“No, it’s fucking freezing,” he tells you truthfully, laughing like a maniac. Sure enough, the cold instantly stings against your skin as you drag your hand across the surface.

“You’re out of your mind,” you yell as he swims out further into the lake.

“Here, I’ll turn around. I won’t even look.” Sure enough, he twirls around in the water, facing away from you.

“That’s not why… Jeonghan it’s cold!!”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” he shouts, barely audible as his voice carries across the lake. “I promise.”

You think about it for a moment. Fuck it, you decide. You take off your shoes and clothes, all the hair on your body standing up in the chilly air. Slowly, you slip your bra and panties off, crossing your arms over your cold breasts. You step up to the edge of the dock, your toes hanging off the wooden plank, staring down into the pitch black water beneath you. Your mind races, but you know if you stand here thinking about it much longer, you’ll talk yourself out of it. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and jump.

The frigid water hits your skin like knives as you plunge into the lake. You kick your legs, hurtling yourself back up to the surface. You gasp as you break into the night air once more, starting to doggy paddle to keep yourself afloat.

“Yeah!!!” you hear your boyfriend cheer in the distance. You spot him as he starts swimming back, water splashing calmly around him as he glides toward you. He swims directly into you, throwing his arms around you and kissing you.

“Hey, I’m trying to stay afloat here you moron!” you shout as you push him away, but you’re laughing along with him. His gaze locks onto yours, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a huge smile plastered across his face.

You’re drenched, you're frozen, and you don’t even really like swimming in the first place. But here, tonight, with Jeonghan - you’ve never felt more carefree.

[1984, Winter - Senior Year]

“Babe, you awake?”

You open your eyes to Jeonghan’s ceiling. The sound of the newest Rush album playing on the stereo had apparently lulled you into a trance; you sit up on his bed, looking over at your boyfriend reclining in the large navy beanbag across the room. He’s laser-focused, eyes on the small television as he controls his Atari joystick.

“Hm?” you ask sleepily.

“I was asking if you were awake,” he repeats, smiling as his eyes are still glued to the screen. “But you answered my question for me.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to ignore you,” you tell him, stifling a yawn. “I was just really relaxed.”

The game gives a series of upbeat beeps and boops to indicate victory. Jeonghan sets the joystick down and turns the console off, getting up and making his way over to you. You scoot over on the bed to make room; he plops down, curling up beside you.

“So,” he starts, placing his arm gently around your waist, tracing his fingers along your side. His parents are gone for the weekend, so you finally get to spend some quality time together - alone.

“What do you wanna do now?”

You roll onto your side, situating yourself even closer to him, your body pressed against his. A smile slowly creeps onto his face. His hand lifts to your cheek, fingertips brushing against the soft skin lightly, making your heart flutter. He leans in, planting a delicate kiss upon your lips; your hand snakes around his waist, clinging to the side of his shirt as you kiss him back. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tight before pulling you over on top of him. The kiss breaks as you giggle; you gaze down at him, locking onto his dark brown eyes. Slowly, he slips his hands underneath your shirt, watching you carefully to make sure you’re okay with it. You grin at him, pressing your lips to his again. He grasps onto your skin, pressing himself against you as closely as possible as he makes out with you. He slides his hands further up your shirt, fingers grazing over the band of your bra. You stop kissing him for a moment; he looks up at you concernedly, nervous that he’s gone too far. You sit up, legs straddled around him, reaching for the hem of your top and slowly lifting it up and over your head. His eyes widen, staring at your body as you discard the shirt on the floor. He pulls his own shirt off, tossing it away, eyes still locked on your breasts. His hands trace up your stomach, eyes nearly bugging out his head as he slowly squeezes his hands over the cups of your bra, smiling like he’d just won the lottery. You lean back down, tucking your head next to his, lips hovering right next to his ear.

“You can keep going,” you whisper.

He reaches around your back, fingers finding the clasp of your bra and giving it a soft tug. With a snap of release it unhooks, straps slowly slipping off of your shoulders. Suddenly he flips you over, pulling the garment off as he rolls on top of you. He presses his hips into yours, admiring the sight of you. You reach for his belt, tugging gently on the waist of his jeans. He lets out an excited giggle, a huge grin spreading across his cheeks. Barely more than a whisper, he utters into your lips as he goes to kiss you again.

“I love you.”

🖭 Track 05: Tainted Love – Soft Cell

🎶 Once I ran to you (I ran) / Now I'll run from you

[1984, Spring - Senior Year]

“Jeonghan!” you call out cheerfully, waving to your boyfriend from the schoolyard bench as he exits the building - but he keeps walking. You assume he didn’t hear you, so you sling your backpack over your shoulder and hurry after him. As you approach you see he has headphones on, his Walkman clipped to his belt. You tap him on the arm, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He rips his headphones off, turning around at a startling speed.

“Oh,” he says when he sees your face. “It’s just you.”

“Glad to see you too,” you tease, expecting him to laugh back, but he just gives you a small, seemingly-forced smile.

“You okay?” you inquire, slightly concerned.

He hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head.

“Yeah no, I’m fine,” he says, fiddling with the headphones in his hands. “I was just zoned out. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you reply warmly. He doesn’t make eye contact, staring just past you instead. Your smile fades. You don’t know what, but something is up with him - and for whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to want to tell you about it. Not your favorite thing in the world, but you decide to drop it for now.

“So,” you start, changing the subject. “Seungcheol told me you got into NYU, I didn’t even know you applied! When did you find out?”

“Oh yeah. I got the letter, um… about a week ago.” He mumbles the end of his sentence as he glances down, suddenly very interested in his shoelaces.

“A week ago?” you ask with genuine surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t get the chance to yet,” he replies, but you both know it's a terrible fib.

“What do you mean? We were hanging out all weekend, dummy,” you say in a lighthearted tone, nudging him in the arm. But you are a little hurt to find out that he was keeping that information from you.

“I just… didn’t think of it,” he tells you. He runs his hand through his hair, giving you a sheeping smile. “Sorry babe,” he adds.

“Soooo…” you prompt, but he doesn’t answer your unspoken question.

“So… what?”

“Are you going to accept it?”

“Oh. Um, well I suppose I have to think about it.”

“Oh.”

You had talked casually about college numerous times, of course. You are seniors after all, it’s the only thing on everyone’s minds at this point in the school year. But all your conversations were had with the assumption that you were both going to Columbia - something you had both been planning on for years, even before you started dating. Since when had Jeonghan had a change of heart? Relax, you tell yourself. Just because he was accepted doesn’t mean he’s going to go there. But a sinister hunch lurks in the back of your mind.

He’s going to a different school because he’s planning to break up with you.

You force yourself to stop. You know you shouldn’t make any assumptions without at least talking to him first. But standing here, right in front of the school on a random Tuesday, doesn’t feel like the right place to have that conversation.

“Well,” Jeonghan pipes up before you can say anything else. “Speaking of the devil, I have to go meet Seungcheol. Says he needs me to fix his computer.” He gives you a cocky smirk. “Bet you five bucks it’s just not plugged in.”

He gives you a quick one-armed hug with a kiss on the cheek.

“Catch you later.”

“See ya,” you respond quietly, but he’s already walking off toward the parking lot.

The beefy Mustang engine roars to life as Jeonghan turns the ignition. He reaches for the first cassette he sees, inserting it into the tape deck and cranking the stereo volume. A melancholic tune blasts from the speakers as The Smiths begin to play, causing him to frown. As much as he likes this song, he doesn’t really want to listen to “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” right now. But he doesn’t have the energy to search for a different tape right now, so it is what it is.

He stares out into the schoolyard, mindlessly watching some jocks throw a football back and forth. But they evidently get bored of that and head over to the group of cheerleaders, a couple of the girls practically throwing themselves at their boyfriends - one couple even starts to make out right there, tongue and all. Jeonghan grimaces, throwing the transmission into reverse and quickly backing the fuck out of the parking spot.

The drive home consists of more sad songs and too much thinking. He knows he should have told you about the letter sooner. He was waiting to find the right time, the right way to say it - but he should’ve known better than to tell Seungcheol if he wanted to keep it a secret. He didn’t blame Cheol, because he hasn’t even told his best friend yet that he has to break up with you.

A car honking snaps him out of the pensive trance he didn’t realize he had entered. He glances up at the stoplight, discovering that it had in fact turned green. He shifts the car into gear and takes off, trying to think about literally anything else - but he can’t get his mind off of you. He is painfully aware that he’s being a fucking idiot. He’s in love with you. Hell, he can’t think about the future without you being there - but that’s the whole problem. Because as wonderful as you are, he simply doesn’t believe you feel the same way about him. He’s convinced himself going to college with you will only end up with you realizing that you can do so much better than him.

And that’s why he has to end things before you have the chance to break his heart.

[two weeks later]

The beating sun reflects off the sidewalk, hurting your eyes even as you sit on a shaded bench. It’s not particularly hot, but the cloudless spring day sure is making you wish you had brought some sunglasses with you. You close your eyes, slumping further into the bench as you wait. And wait. And wait. But Jeonghan doesn’t show.

Maybe he just genuinely forgot, but that’s what you thought the first time. And the second time. But this is the third fucking time he’s stood you up. You had a suspicion he’d been avoiding you, and by now he’s all but confirmed it.

Finally, you detect the familiar rumble of a Mustang engine approaching. You open your eyes, spotting the blue vehicle speeding into the parking lot. Its brakes squeal to a stop as the driver pulls up in front of the mall entrance. Sighing, you get up and shuffle over to the car, flinging the door open and plopping into the passenger seat.

“You’re late.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan mumbles. You see him looking at you sheepishly out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t meet his gaze.

“You’re really late,” you say coldly, staring out the window at nothing. “What’s your excuse today?”

“I just lost track of time-”

“I’ve been waiting for you for AN HOUR,” you shoot back, turning your head to face him. “I could have walked home by now!”

He looks down, resting his hand upon the stick shift.

“I feel really bad, y/n, I’m really sorry.”

“That’s what you said last time,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

Sighing, he shifts the car into drive and takes off.

“Do you still want to go grab a bite?”

“I already ate. I want to go home.”

The drive back to your street is silent, with only the radio humming at a barely audible level. He pulls up in front of your house; you go to exit the car, but he reaches out for your arm.

“Wait,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against your skin. “Please.”

You look back at him - the apologetic look on his face is sincere, but that doesn’t make you any less upset.

“Jeonghan, you can’t keep doing shit like this. You’re acting like you don’t even want to be around me anymore.”

“No, babe, that’s not true-”

“Did I do something?”

“What?” he questions. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“I…” he sighs, staring back at the steering wheel. He shakes his head, his words trailing off. You wait for him to say something - anything - but he doesn’t.

“Fine,” you exhale, exasperated. “Call me when you’re ready to actually fucking talk to me.”

You throw open the car door, slamming it shut and storming off into the house. Your lip quivers, eyes watering as frustration swells in your chest, but you swallow it.

Jeonghan stares after you until you disappear through the door. He drops his head, burying his face in folded arms against the steering wheel. With a groan, he drives the remaining couple hundred feet and parks in his own driveway. He cranks the stereo up, “Love Will Tear Us Apart” blaring through the speakers - perhaps the worst possible song to be playing right now. He lets out a haughty laugh at the irony, laughter quickly turning into tears spilling from his eyes.

Nice going jackass, he chastises himself as anger wells within him. You’ve really fucked this up now.

Inside your bedroom, you throw yourself on your bed. You stare off into space, but there’s too much shit in your peripheral vision around the room that reminds you of him. You roll over, shoving your face into the pillow, letting out a dejected groan.

You don’t know what to do, so you just let yourself cry.

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