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alexiroflife · 6 months ago

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"sober confessions" drunk wishes sequel

high school!satoru gojo x reader

Synopsis: the following morning after satoru asked you to stay the night, the two of you reflected over what some of the things that were said and done when satoru was drunk could have meant

to sum it up: it's confession time

WC: 5,981

Warning(s): mentions of alcohol use

You were suddenly awakened by the shrill ring of your phone alarm, signifying that it was time for you to get ready for class.

You jumped, blindly reaching over to hit the snooze button, only when you repeatedly tapped the screen, the sound proceeded as though growing louder.

You groaned, mind foggy from sleep as you propped yourself up and snatched your phone within your grasp, angrily peering down at the device to find that there was, in fact, no alarm going off but a call from the group chat ringing repeatedly.

You squinted, the screen light glaring into your face rather unpleasantly. You were struggling to get a grip on your bearings as you watched the phone ring, momentarily believing that you were in your room, when you felt a pair of arms tighten around your middle and a sleepy groan rumble and vibrate against your back.

You jumped slightly, craning your head back to find your best friend sleeping soundly beside you, arms wound around your waist in a spooning position as his white lashes fluttered gently against his soft pale skin. Tendrils of white fell lazily into his eyes, his cheek mashed against his pillow as deep breaths escaped his parted lips.

Your eyes widened, the previous night’s (or rather the early morning’s) events flooding back into your mind at full force. You had fallen asleep in Satoru’s bed after he had begged you to spend the night, holding your waist and pulling you to him pleadingly.

And now your friends were calling, most likely wondering where the hell the two of you were.

What time was it anyway?

You glanced up at the corner of your phone as it rang and caught sight of the hour. It was 9:30, an hour following the block of your first class of the day. How the hell had you managed to sleep through your alarm? You had told yourself that you were going to wake up early to sneak back into your dorm, but apparently, your body had other plans to oversleep with Satoru cuddled up to your back, clinging to you like you were a stuffed animal he was afraid to let go of.

Your face instantly flushed, uncertain of how you had even managed to find yourself in this position in the first place. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to leave to go back to your dorm, but you didn’t have class for another hour now. Were you supposed to wake Satoru up? Tell him that it was time to get ready for the morning, or sneak back into your dorm like you had originally planned to?

The ringing of your phone didn’t help either. The moment it had stopped, it started up again, whoever had been calling impatiently pondering over your whereabouts. You imagined that you were in some type of trouble for missing class, for Yaga had always been particularly strict on Satoru about fulfilling his responsibilities and simultaneously not dragging you into his nonsense.

You looked back over your shoulder to see if Satoru had been disturbed by the sound, but found that he was still sleeping rather peacefully. With a sigh, and a rather impending sense of deja vu, you answered the phone with your camera off.

“H’llo?” you murmured into the mic, not even bothering to look at the FaceTime bubbles.

“Oh, well look who decided to answer,” Suguru’s voice lifted into the room rather agitatedly. “And with her camera off.”

“What do you want?” you groaned, shielding your arm over your eyes as you laid back onto Satoru’s pillow.

“Someone woke up feisty today,” Shoko’s voice slid into the microphone teasingly, and you sighed.

“You try babysitting Satoru at three in the morning and see how you feel when you wake up.”

“Yeah, so funny you mention that,” the dark haired man quickly said. “Where the hell are the two of you? You do know you missed class this morning, right? We had to figure out a way to cover for you when Yaga started interrogating us.”

You cringed slightly at the thought of the burly man being angry with you. “Is he pissed?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Well, what did you say to him?”

“Nothing that made him believe us,” Geto exhaled.

“Yeah, don’t be surprised if you get an angry knock on your door later today,” Shoko chuckled and you groaned.

“God dammit,” you murmured.

“So my question still stands, (Y/n),” Suguru said. “Where are you and Satoru?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, shifting slightly when Satoru’s fingers dug into your sides, inching his face closer to yours so that you could feel his breath fanning over your forehead. Heat pinched your cheeks as a shudder racked your body, your ability to keep your composure crumbling as long as you were within Satoru’s arms.

“Ummm…” you stalled. “I mean… Satoru’s still sleeping…”

There was a deafening pause as silence occupied the line for the next few moments, then came a weight, exasperated exhale from Suguru’s line. “(Y/n), are you still in his room?”

The dark haired boy’s comment was enough to have your body bursting into flames from embarrassment. “I-It’s a long story.”

You could hear Shoko stifle a laugh with a short snort, and though Suguru paused again you could imagine him shaking his head in disbelief. “I told you to get him back safe, not to sleep over and be late to class.”

“I told you, it’s a long story,” you growled. “And I don't wanna hear anything from you after you abandoned us last night.”

“Don’t you people ever rest past midnight?” Shoko joked.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Just- wake him up, okay? We still have the rest of the day to get through and a new mission to discuss,” Suguru said tiredly.

“I’ll try my best, damn, but he-” you stopped yourself when you felt the white haired boy stir against you. You froze, unable to respond to Suguru and Shoko pressing for you to finish your sentence. Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes darted down to where Satoru’s hands rested over you. You watched a hand lift from your side slowly, the other sliding over your abdomen as Satoru reached out for something.

You turned back to look at him, confused, and found that his eyes were still closed but his peaceful expression had been replaced with a frustrated one, his brows angled and his nose scrunched as he grunted softly. You looked back before you to see that he had been reaching blindly for your phone. You lowered it slightly so that he could have access, curious as to what he was trying to do, before he tapped at the screen harshly, his finger struggling to find a button. He tapped aggressively, growing more irritated with the task though he still refused to peek open his eyes.

“What the hell is that tapping noise?” Suguru’s voice questioned just seconds before Satoru’s finger finally hit the red x at the top corner, the call ending abruptly.You gaped, Satoru humming in satisfaction and wrapping you into him again, tucking his leg over your hip and burying his face in your hair.

You set your phone down slowly, stilling once again in the seventeen year old’s hold. “S-Satoru?” you whispered, out into the emptiness of the room. He hummed again, brushing his nose into you and inhaling deeply. “Are you awake?”

“Mm-mm,” he hummed in opposition, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“Why’d you end the call?” you murmured.

“...too loud,” he grumbled sleepily.

You sighed, smoothing your hand over his clutching your midsection. “We slept in. We gotta get up.”

“No,” he groaned, his sleep coated voice ruggedly reverberating into you. You could feel that way he sank into you even further somehow, exhaling in content when he felt that you were close enough for you to be unable to escape. “...no,” he exhaled in content, voice drifting off quietly.

You had to get out of this somehow, but you had no idea how the hell you would be able to break free from the strongest student’s hold as he stubbornly gripped you tighter and tighter, holding you damn near prisoner.

This, you decided, was somehow worse than what you had to endure when Satoru was drunk. While you understood the white haired boy was hungover and half asleep, he was no longer intoxicated. In addition to his sober state, Satoru had incredibly trained heightened senses. No matter what state he was in, he was always hyper aware of what he was doing in that moment, whether he remembered the next day or not. Therefore, you knew that he knew he was fully conscious of the way he clung to you, which only meant that his affections with you were not entirely inspired by the alcohol that was leaving his system.

You couldn’t blame his behavior on his intoxication anymore, and the notion frightened you.

You tried to break free from him anyhow, though the task was fruitless the moment you started. You pressed down onto his arms and tried to push yourself upward from his grasp, grunting and straining your throat whilst attempting to wriggle away, but you could barely budge. Hell, it didn’t even feel like Satoru was exerting any effort, especially since he was already dozing off again, and yet you were stuck.

“Satoru!” you groaned in frustration. You didn’t want him to know that you enjoyed this. You didn’t want him to know that you wanted to stay like this, wrapped into him safely and snugly with no desire to leave anytime soon. You didn’t want him to see you so clearly enamored by him in the daylight, for your gentle affections motivated by your love for him were only meant for the wee hours of the morning when he couldn’t walk in a straight light or see any less than three blurry visions of you before him.

He didn’t even give you a response this time, completely falling silent as you struggled against him and you exhaled loudly, agitated with your predicament. Thanks to your weakness for your best friend, you had missed class and now by the looks of it, you were going to miss your second class too. You knew Gojo wasn’t getting up any time soon, and he wasn’t letting you out of his bed either.

You sighed again, falling limp against him and giving in to your fate. You pouted slightly, slumping your cheek against the pillow as Satoru’s breaths fanned soothingly against your ear, chest rising and falling against your back.

Little did you know, however, Satoru was now wide awake, feeling you, breathing you in, taking in the opportunity that presented itself to him. He knew that the moment you were aware of his full consciousness, you’d force that line of friendship between the two of you again, leaving your gentle caress of his face in the past as you proceeded into the day like nothing happened, like you were friends and that was all there was to it, and sure, perhaps friends found themselves in predicaments where they’d touch each other or lay with each other in a platonic fashion.

But Satoru didn’t want your platonic affection. He didn’t want this moment to fade away into thin air like your intimate moments always did the night following his drinking. He didn’t want the tenderness in your voice to be replaced by that harsh, yet playful teasing you always showed him and he showed you, and Suguru, and Shoko in return.

Yes, he drank to feel unburdened by the weight he carried as “the honored one” every day, but he also drank to be close to you, to find excuses to long for you openly, to capture the way you took care of him when he rendered himself incapable.

Then, Satoru.

You rarely ever called him Toru when he was sober, always addressing him by his full name as though it was a necessity, that damn barrier that stood between the two of you was there was more. He hated it.

Satoru Gojo knew he was the best from a very early age. He knew that he would have to struggle with very little throughout his life, and that amongst skills and sorcery, popularity and girls would follow like second nature. He was a teenager, and he reveled in the attention from all areas, but when it came to you, he was just far weaker, completely forgetting that any girl would have killed to be his girlfriend and trailing around behind you like a lovesick puppy.

Still, since he was always so inebriated when you took care of him, he never fully understood why you were so doting upon him. He remembered bits and pieces from the previous night, fragments that came together more easily than memories from other nights where he had been far more wasted. He could still see your face clearly, feel your hands on his face, your fingers brushing his chest. It was all becoming rather clear in his head again, and he wanted to return to that. He didn’t want to let that go, because maybe you cared for him this way and allowed him to cuddle up to you through the night because you felt something for him greater than friendship.

Even that morning, you could have forced your way out somehow (not really, because Satoru was incredibly stubborn), and yet you allowed him to take over and keep you close. You allowed him to possibly lead you to miss your next class. You allowed him to hug you tight to him, relinquishing any willpower to fight against him. Why?

“Satoru,” you spoke up again softly, and he twitched, unable to not respond to the way your voice sounded calling his name. “I know you’re awake.”

His lips curled upward slightly though his eyes still remained closed. “I’m not,” he murmured.

Hearing him speak to you coherently and prove that he had indeed been fully aware of what he was doing the whole time like you initially suspected had you internally fuming. “You asshole,” you hissed, and he chuckled, his abdominals tensing rigidly against your back and his fingers brushing the hem of your shirt with the action.

You flushed, holding your breath. “It’s not funny, we’re already behind today. Come on, let’s go,” you frowned, moving to push free from him again but once more, but his embrace tightened and he shook his head against you. “Stop messing around!”

“I don’t wanna get up yet,” he said as though his explanation were simple, and in truth, he thought it was. There was nothing else for him to really say.

“That’s too bad. We have class!” you fumed, releasing another groan when he still refused to release you. You tried to shift around to at least face him, but it was no use. “Satoru! Get off of me!”

A sense of irritation overcame the said boy in reaction to your demand. You were acting as though you hadn’t willingly slept through the night with him. Why? Why didn’t you want him to know that you enjoyed this?

“Don’t act like that,” he mumbled huskily and you furrowed your brows.

“Act like what? Responsible?”

“No. Don’t act like you don’t want to stay here too.”

You froze, struggling momentarily to process what he had said. Had you made your feelings too obvious? “Wh- Satoru, I’m just saying that we’re late and we need to get up. I still have to shower.”

“I don’t care,” he sighed out. He tugged you back, using the grip he already had around you to flip you over within his hold and tuck you to his chest by the back of your head. He kept his leg obnoxiously thrown over your hip, now hugging onto you in a childish manner. “We’re gonna rot here together for a few more hours.”

You made a noise of surprise, vision shielded by his shirt. You pressed your hands into his hard shoulders, pushing to move him away. “No we’re not,” you whined. “Quit being so annoying, let me go!”

“Ugh,” he groaned grumpily into your hair, leading you to raise a brow and lean back to look up at him.

“What the hell are you groaning about? You’re the one holding me hostage.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, and for the first time that morning, you could see his sapphire orbs peeking through his lashes, peering down at you with a hint of frustration and fatigue. “I’m just hungover and you’re talking too much.”

“Well, I’d talk less if you let go of me, idiot.”

Satoru stared down at you for a long moment, as though studying every part of your face and analyzing the meaning behind your expression. Your brows drew together further as you looked back up at him, caught in his gaze with confusion splayed over your face.

“What?”

You could feel his grip finally grow lax around you, embrace loosening yet his hands still stayed on the small of your back and his leg still over yours. His subtle release allowed you to pull away a bit more, taking a better view of his face leaned against the pillow. “I just wish you would be more like you were last night sometimes,” he said rather calmly, and you lifted your brows in shock.

“Huh?” you breathed. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

Suddenly, he was smirking down at you lazily, lips curved into that devilish smile that caught the hearts of hundreds. You hated when he smiled at you like that, because you knew that just like the rest of them, that smile had you absolutely whipped.

“I think we should stop stalling and get ready for class,” you tried to change the subject. Satoru’s smile dimmed slightly, a fleck of disappointment simmering in his gaze. He turned his head to face the ceiling and threw his arm over his eyes, lifting it from your body and his leg along with it.

“Fine,” he grunted. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” you huffed, moving to slide over the covers and out from Satoru’s arm, which fell limply to the bed as you rose to your feet on the floor. Neither one of you mentioned the way the cold enveloped your bodies when you withdrew, nor how you both sought the warmth that had been consuming the two of you just moments prior.

You stretched your arms out and leaned over, scrunching your face as a few cracks resounded in your back. Satoru lifted his arm carefully to watch the movement, as you tilted your head to either side and raised your arms above your head, shirt lifting ever so slightly to reveal a hint of your bare back. His lips tightened and ears burned, arm moving back over his eyes.

Seconds after, you turned over your shoulder to take a glance at Satoru’s lounged state, limbs still sprawled out everywhere. You felt guilty for a second, forcing yourself to leave him like this, but what exactly was there to feel guilty for? Satoru was your friend and you needed to get up to actually get some work done and go to school. There was nothing wrong with you pointing that out, and yet, the idea of leaving Satoru’s room to go back to your own felt like shit.

You quickly moved to the other side of the room to grab the pain medicine you always kept stored by the window for this very occasion. You leaned over Satoru to place the bottle on top of his abdomen. The white haired boy looked down then back up at you.

“Take that for your headache,” you told him. “And there’s water on your nightstand, okay? I’ll see you in a few, I’m gonna go get ready.”

“(Y/n),” Satoru called you before you could gather your sweatshirt and keys from the floor. You turned over your shoulder mid-movement to watch him sit up, coursing his fingers through his hair with his arm propping him up behind him.

He was so pretty, with his sleepy eyes and his sloppy t-shirt hanging over his shoulder. He rubbed his eye then met your gaze, face blank and brows set low.

“You didn’t really answer my question from last night,” he said after a few seconds.

“...Which question? You say a lot when you’re drunk, you know,” you tried to laugh it off, fully aware of what Satoru was referring to.

“Oh really? Then let me remind you.”

Gojo moved to sit at the edge of the bed similar to how he had hours before, early in the morning. He patted the space next to him loudly.

“I was sitting right here, you were standing here in front of me helping me change, and then I asked you why you always take care of me. You said it was because we’re friends, and then I said it wasn’t the same as how ‘friends’ take care of each other,” he walked you through the events matter-of-factly, blinking up at you with an innocent expression.

“Okay, first of all,” you placed your hand on your hip. “I literally did answer your question. Second, how the hell do you remember all of that so well? Don’t tell me your memory is usually that good when you wake up with a hangover.”

“No, last night it just wasn’t as bad. Why, ‘there something you’ve been hiding?” he teased you slightly and you scoffed.

“You wish.”

Satoru sighed and leaned his chin in his hand. “And no, you didn't really answer. Not the full question. You never addressed the second part of what I said.”

“Because it’s not relevant, Satoru. I take care of you because we’re friends.”

“And I told you that doesn’t make sense.”

“How?” you made a strange face, feeling yourself grow defensive under Satoru’s gaze and his observations. You hadn’t expected to have this conversation, and it was starting to make you nervous. “Do you want me to say I take care of you when you’re drunk for some other reason?”

The white haired student tilted his head slightly, strands of hair falling into his sight across his forehead. He pursed his lips, studying you. “I don’t know, it just depends if there actually is some other reason.”

You scrunched your nose as the two of you stared at each other from opposite ends of the room. The longer you looked at him, a smile slowly spread onto his face as though he couldn’t stay serious.

“I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not right now,” you murmured, slimming your eyes as you eyed him down.

“I’m-I’m being serious,” he chuckled lowly, snatching up the pain bottle into his hand to open it and pop one into his mouth. “See, you even know to make me take this when I wake up,” he said, grabbing his water and lifting the open bottle to his lips.

“Because this happens a lot,” you crossed your arms.

“I know, silly, that’s why I asked the question in the first place.”

“Well, what about you? You’re the one always calling for me when you drink,” you deflected the attention onto him to take the heat away from you. “Care to explain why you do that, hm? Is that just a ‘friend’ thing?”

“I asked you first, (Y/n),” Satoru grinned, tossing his now sealed water aside to stand slowly so as to not further aggravate the minor ache in his head. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I’m just saying. I don’t mind it, obviously, but it’s always me you end up asking for.”

Satoru walked up to you slowly. “Because I care about you,” he said, soft smile still resting on his face.

You looked up at him confusingly, skin warm as he gazed down at you with an air of gentle kindness. “I care about you too, Satoru, which is again why I don’t mind always taking care of you. We’re friends.”

Friends.

The word hung in the air like a lingering smell, one that took several hours and numerous open windows to rid a room of. You were always so quick to remind him that you were friends, that your love for him was the love of a friend for a friend, and while he harbored that same love for you, it didn’t feel right.

He loved Suguru as a friend. He loved Shoko as a friend, but you… he loved you as a friend, of course, but he desired more from you. There was a childish need within him to stay by your side, to metaphorically tug at your pig tails then turn around and hold your hand as the two of you walked to class. He wanted his isolated path to greatness to be accompanied by your presence, close, sweet, full of laughter and shy smiles and soft touches and swift kisses. He wanted you to take care of him though he knew he needed no one.

He needed you.

And as more than just a friend.

But as confident as Satoru was with himself and his abilities in charming anyone, he had no idea how to go about addressing his feelings for you. Satoru knew how to joke, and as your friend, he knew how to push your buttons, and he did absolutely know how to care for you, but he did not know how to make you see how much he wanted to be with you. He danced around the idea because that was all he knew how to do. Deep down, when it came to you, he was a coward, a scared shitless kid in love with one of his closest friends with no way of understanding what it looked like to tell you.

Satoru scratched the side of his chin when he approached you, smile fading due to his inability to properly handle the thoughts that were running through his brain. “So that’s all?”

You pressed your lips together, heart fluttering when his eyes dashed down to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Yes?”

“...And we should just move on from everything that happened last night?”

“I mean, I guess so. Nothing really… happened per say.”

No, nothing happened. Not him pulling you close by your waist, or him calling you pretty, or you calling him love, or him keeping his hands on you in some way the entire time you were with him.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Then I guess you should go get ready for class.”

You hesitated, unable to look away from the boy before you. “…Alright,” you mumbled. You stayed in front of him for one more moment before turning to open the door. Your hand reached for the handle when you paused, something nagging at you, keeping you from leaving though you had been pleading for Satoru to let you go earlier.

“Did you want to talk about something in particular?” you asked quickly when you turned back around. Satoru looked at you befuddled for a moment, then he smiled warmly again.

“Didn’t we just do that?”

“I don’t know, it just seems like there’s something on your mind that you’re not saying.”

“I could say the same thing about you, (Y/n).”

You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, stomach fluttering with butterflies. “…You called me pretty last night.”

Satoru’s smile softened and his expression mellowed out, cheeks tinting a light pink. “Because you are.”

“But… did you say that, like- cause you were drunk?”

“No, I said it because you’re pretty.”

Your hands flew to your shirt as you twirled the fabric sleeping nervously in your fingers. Satoru’s eyes flickered down at the sight, taking note of all your nervous habits.

“Why did you want me to stay with you last night?”

Satoru sighed, looking down momentarily. “Cause I like having you around,” he told you. “You make me feel safe.”

“I do?” you asked, sounding a tad bit more hopeful than you intended.

“When I’m drunk especially, yeah.”

“And that’s why you always call me when you drink?”

“…I think so,” he said earnestly, a look of severity taking over his previous smile. “I also like the way you look after me. I like how you talk to me.”

“How do I talk to you?”

“Like we’re something more than friends,” he blurted out and your eyes went wide. Satoru didn’t take long to mimic your reaction, his own eyes widening when he registered his own words.

He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, knocking them against his legs awkwardly.

“Sorry, I guess I just…” he narrowed his brows and looked away from you nervously. You had never seen this side of Satoru before, the way he fidgeted anxiously and avoided the eye contact with you that he always sought. “I don’t know.”

“I always take care of you when you drink because I like doing it,” you confessed abruptly, catching Satoru’s immediate attention. “I like feeling like you need me sometimes.”

Satoru gave you a perplexed look. “What do you mean?”

“You know… in school, you don’t exactly need my help or anyone else’s at that matter. You’re the strongest. If the only time you need me is when you drink, then I’ll gladly help just to feel like I can do something for you.”

The blue eyed seventeen year old clenched his jaw as he took in your words, having never known that you felt that way. “I don’t just need you when I drink, (Y/n),” he said lowly. “That’s not how I view you at all.”

You shuffled slightly on your feet. “Okay…” you trailed off. “Then how do you view me?”

Satoru scratched the back of his head. For the first time, you could see the way he flustered before you when he was sober, exhibiting similar mannerisms as the boy who could only speak in slurred gibberish, the same behaviors that you had believed to only be displayed when he didn’t know what he was saying or doing.

“I can’t put it into words,” he started. “All I know is that I start to lose my mind when you get so soft with me. I don’t want you to stop doing that. I never wanted that to just be something you do when I’m drunk.”

Was this… a confession?

Your entire body was tingling as the two of you watched each other with bright eyes and heated faces, unsure of really what to say but with a million words desperately clawing to break free after having been concealed for so long. You didn’t know what to think. Your mind didn’t want to fall for what Satoru appeared to be saying to you, but your heart was thrashing, jumping and bursting with every glimmer in the boy’s clear eyes and the freshness in his gentle, honest tone.

“What does that mean?” you asked stupidly, mind a blur.

An ocean haze melted over you. Satoru knew it was dumb to let himself fall so easily in this world of curses, in this world where he remained at the top while everyone else including you watched from the bottom, but he didn’t care. He should’ve thought more about the risks, but he couldn’t.

All he could think about was how he never wanted to live in a world without you by his side. Selfishly, he loved you. Selfishly, he clinged to you like a boy to his childhood crush.

You didn’t notice how he ended up directly in front of you, looking down at you from inches away. This felt so strange to you, examining him in such a light that wasn’t dimmed by a drunken stupor.

Satoru looked down, slowly, hesitantly reaching out to grab your forearm gently. You allowed him, his slender fingers wrapping over your wrist and sliding down to your palm, cupping your hand gently within his. His skin was hot, thumb swiping over the back of your hand as he stared intently at the motion.

“Answer my question for real now,” he whispered, looking up at you. “Tell me why you always look after me.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You almost felt intoxicated yourself, captured by Satoru’s touch and gaze in the light of day. “Because… I…”

Satoru’s head ducked down gradually, the movement so slow it was hard to even notice. Against your mind, your body was moving along with him, chin tilting up shyly as the warmth of his hand and his eyes on yours and his voice asking you why you loved him melted your resolve.

The air stilled, time ticking closer and closer toward your next class, but you had completely forgotten and Satoru couldn’t have cared less as his face neared yours just as it had that night, lids lowering over lazy eyes as he tugged your hand closer to him, leading you to take a few careful steps further in.

You had loved Satoru for as long as you’d known him, as your friend, as a person, as a sorcerer, and as something beyond that. You never believed your feelings to be reciprocated, for there was only one Satoru Gojo, and he was granted with the gift of everything. As a boy with everything, you did not think that there was anything more your feelings could give him. Not when you were one of many who loved him, and he was the only one of himself.

Nevertheless, you never considered the fact that the strongest boy could have separated you from everyone else, could have viewed you as the only one of yourself. You never even bothered to entertain the idea that you were as special to him as he was to the world.

Your lips were touching his lightly before you could further ponder anything else, soft lips pressing into each other carefully as though the two of you were afraid to push any further. At the moment of contact, you shivered, eyes fluttering closed as the world around you bursted into color.

The two of you pulled away with a soft smack as quickly as you had kissed, looking at each other with shocked discovery, read beaten faces, and dancing hearts.

Satoru wasn’t drunk, but he stared at you as though he was, pupils wide and eyes full.

Eventually, he grinned, shiny teeth bearing and eyes crinkling as he lifted his hand to the side of your face, giddy and buzzing with teenage fervor. “Well?” he pushed, referring to the still unanswered question that lingered in the air.

You blinked, still stunned by what had just taken place as Satoru beamed down at you cheekily. You let out a short amused, nervous breath, corners of your mouth curling with a stunned half smile.

“Because I like you, you idiot,” you sighed and he laughed, pushing himself forward to bump your forehead into his.

“Thank god,” he chuckled, and suddenly, you were giggling along with him, shaky and happy and woozy with delight.

The two of you, naturally, missed all of your classes that day having spent your time within each other’s company, making up for lost time, exchanging once-secret stories of hidden affections, and making fun of each other for failing to see just how infatuated with one another the two of you had always been, kissing, cuddling, hugging, smiling.

You were met with a series of missed calls from Suguru and Shoko followed by a rather intense ass-beating/lecture from Yaga once the day had come to an end, Shoko and Suguru watching from nearby, but it was worth it to finally know that those intimacies shared during nights full of drunken were the manifestations of true, real, harbored feelings.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #anime #jjk #jjk fandom #jjk season 2 #gojo x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo fluff #gojo saturo

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girasois · 1 year ago

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words for users !

ideias de palavras aleatórias para ajudar você a criar seu próprio user;

random ideas of words to help you to create your own user.

core -> aesthetic core

vlog -> daily videos

logs -> daily facts

mp3 -> audio file format

m4p -> apple audio file format

mp4 -> video file format

txt -> text format

jpeg -> image file format

jpg -> image file format

png -> image file format

gif -> animated file format

raw -> uncompressed file format

zip -> compressed archive file format

rar -> compressed archive file format

web -> internet file format

doc -> document file

pdf -> document file

vinyl -> phonograph record

film -> motion picture; photography

user -> person who utilizes a computer or network service

i2 -> "keeping it real"

self -> a person's essential being

itself -> a person's essential being

priv -> private

luv -> love's short form

tale -> a fictitious or true narrative or story

archive -> to place or store (something) in an archive

list -> connected items

tier -> a type of hierarchy

talk -> speak in order to express something

chat -> to have a conversation

post -> to announce or publish something

zone -> a subject to particular restrictions

vie -> life in french

tie -> to form a knot or bow in

on/online -> connected to a network

byte -> a group of binary digits

bits -> a small piece, part, or quantity of something

ram -> hardware in a computing device

8bit -> computer term used to designate either color depth

pixel -> a minute area of illumination on a display screen

data -> things known or assumed as facts

series -> a number of things, events, or people of a similar kind

village -> a self-contained community within a town or city

lab -> a laboratory

lady -> a woman

miss -> a form of address to a woman

mister -> a form of address to a man

error -> something not found

art -> the various branches of creative activity

petit -> small in french

poet -> a person possessing special powers of imagination or expression

thing -> an object without a specific name

stuff -> a vague reference to additional things

vogue -> the prevailing fashion or style at a particular time

tv -> taylor's version and/or television as a system or form of media

media -> the main means of mass communication

topia -> an imagined place or state of things in which everything is perfect

saur -> forming names of extinct reptiles such as dinosaurs

tune -> a melody, one that characterizes a particular piece of music

deun -> melody in deutsch

off/offline -> disconnected from the Internet

gloss -> shine or luster on a smooth surface

fae -> a fairy, in modern fantasy fiction

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sehunniepotwrites · 4 months ago

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with a little pixie dust | mk.l

It’s just a little faith and trust, and with a little pixie dust, your wildest dreams will be yours.

SYNOPSIS. There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)

GENRE. Fluff, Comedy, Best friends-to-lovers!AU, Theme Park!AU, Disneyland!AU, meddling/matchmaking friend group, all the romantic tropes that come with a theme park setting

WORD COUNT. 11.9k

WARNINGS. a lot of Disney references (movies, songs, parks, etc.), profanity, food/drink consumption, theme park rides, nothing too crazy tbh

PARK ANNOUNCEMENTS. I understand that not everyone has been to Disneyland. Because I want to paint the perfect picture in your head as you read through the fic, each scene will be titled with the land/area they are in and a picture of the land/area will be hyperlinked with a visual. It's unnecessary to click them but it would be a lil helpful! <3 DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work.

Your graduation commencement came and went. The spectacle flew by so slowly but so quickly at the same time. You can’t exactly describe how you’re feeling now that you’ve graduated–relief is mixed in with panic, happiness mixed with dread. It’s a jumble of emotions you can’t quite comprehend but alas, that is the wonder of adulthood.

The happiest takeaway from your college experience is not the expensive degree you earned but the special friends you made. Karina was the first friend you made in college because she was your roommate. She introduced you to her high school friend, Jeno, who then dragged you two to the ginormous welcome event. It was there you met Donghyuck and last but definitely not least, Mark Lee.

The other two boys were attractive, yes, but there was something about Mark that drew you to him. Donghyuck talked as much as him, sure, and Jeno’s attractiveness was on another level than Mark’s but that boy immediately caught your attention. Maybe it was the way he spoke and never completed a thought or the way he’d laugh so unabashedly, losing all control of his body that got to you. He was so incredibly endearing that your heart just claimed him. Years later, when the friendship is stronger than ever, that beating muscle in your chest refuses to let Mark go.

One morning the summer after graduation, you wake up in a hotel room with an alarm blaring at 6:00am. You roll over and groan, blindly reaching to stop the device. Karina is rustling inside the sheets next to you, hoping the noise will go away. Jeno and Donghyuck are on the other bed snoring up a storm. Mark, on the other hand, rolls uncomfortably on the pull-out couch.

On normal days, the alarm set for six in the morning would be a sin but today is not a regular day. It is the day your group saved up for.

The five of you, with your similar interests in movies and theme parks, wanted to go to Disneyland together for years. After graduation, you finally had the money and freedom for it.

Your hypothetical plan finally made it out of the group chat—that is your driving force to get up. While doing so, you hit Karina’s side and she grumbles in response. The two of you agreed you’d wake up earlier since it would take you longer to get ready. The guys, however, could sleep in.

As you quietly pass by the couch, Mark asks, “Is it time to get up already?” He must’ve heard the shuffling. There's darkness under his eyes. You can tell he didn’t sleep well last night. On top of his eyes struggling to open up, his voice sounds incredibly hoarse and filled with fatigue.

“No,” you answer, patting his messy head of brown hair. His body reacts positively to your touch, eyes closed and neck stretching to meet your touch. He releases a relaxed sigh as your fingers card through his thick strands.

Lowering yourself to his level, you continue to play with his hair. “Sleep well last night?”

“Nah, not really, like dude, this shit really isn’t comfortable,” he complains with a deep exhale, “but I volunteered to take the couch so…”

“Move to mine,” you tell him, gesturing to the unmade bed. You hear the water running and figure that Karina jumped into the shower to help wake herself up. “Try to get a little more sleep, I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

Too tired to fight back, Mark languidly moves towards the bed. Once close enough, his body drops onto the mattress and he wiggles his way under the covers. You watch him until his breathing evens out. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep; after all, he did most of the driving on your road trip down to Southern California. Satisfied, you move to start your morning hotel routine.

The fresh smell of coffee hits you as you do your skin care, apply your makeup, and brush your teeth. Karina’s done in the bathroom shortly after and you claim it to change into your outfit of the day. When the final touches of your look are finished, forty minutes have passed and it’s time to wake up the rest.

You wake Jeno first because he’s the easiest and whisper that there’s fresh coffee waiting for him. Donghyuck throws a bit of a fit when you shake him awake, stuffing his face in his pillow. He gets up after a few threats from Karina, whining over how mean she is to him.

Part of you wants to let Mark rest for a little bit longer, especially after knowing how exhausted he is. There’s the option of letting the other three go first while you wait for Mark to wake up naturally. The other half of you, however, thinks about two things: how much money you all spent getting these tickets and how you promised each other to be at Disneyland from open to close to make your splurge worth it. Being Mark’s best friend, you know how disappointed the guy would be if you stayed behind with him. So with no choice left, you wake him up.

You do so gently, your hand immediately going back to his unruly hair. You comb back his bangs and hold them in place. “Mark, it’s your turn now, everyone else is almost ready.”

As soon as he hears your voice, he stirs. Mark blinks the sleep away, and suddenly, you are the first thing he sees. With you sitting on the bed next to him and your hand still in his hair, Mark thinks he’s still dreaming. “Hmmm?”

“It’s your turn, Spidey,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. “We’re all ready.”

He buries his head in your lap for just a second, wanting to keep this little moment with him a little longer.

“Okay,” he finally says a minute later, before slipping out of bed.

Karina claims her rightful place next to you on your shared bed, still warm from Mark’s little nap. She shoots you a look and you ignore her knowing stare. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she challenges you, perfectly drawn eyebrows raised in question.

“That,” you gesture to her face.

“Oh, you mean the look I’m giving you when you share a little cute moment with your best friend who is most definitely more than a best friend, fine, I won’t do that,” Karina pretends to give up, her hands raised in surrender.

You shush her at once, looking over to the boys that are currently fighting over the sink. Mark’s already dressed in some black cargo pants and an oversized Spider-Man shirt. He’s in the midst of styling his hair, struggling with one strand that will not stay in place. You hear his frustrated huffs and puffs while Jeno and Haechan chuckle at his antics.

“Does my baby need help?” Donghyuck teases, reaching for Mark’s hair.

“Yo, dude, no, stop! You’re gonna mess it up!” Mark shouts, backing away from him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“But you can’t do it on your own, my sweet baby, I’ll help you,” Donghyuck continues with the bit.

You remove yourself from Karina’s conversation and break the two idiots up.

“C’mere,” you gesture towards Mark.

He instantly comes to you, dipping his head down to your level as you lean against a piece of furniture. Your fingertips curl that one strand just the way he likes it, framing his forehead, and smile when it’s all finished. So focused on his hair, you almost don’t notice how close his face is to yours. Your breath hitches and you lean back to create more distance.

Removing your hand from his hair, you smooth the non-existent wrinkles on his baggy tee.“There you go, not hard at all.”

“Right,” he murmurs back, body frozen in place but his large, pretty eyes still aimed at you.

You clear your throat. “I, um, need to–”

“Oh yeah no, sorry,” he stumbles over his words, moving so you can get through. You shuffle past him, pretending to do a last minute check of your crossbody bag. His stare lingers on you as you fuss over your belongings and put on your Mickey ears.

You try to shake away your thoughts but Karina won’t let you. She slides up to you with a playful smile. “Not even eight in the morning and you’ve already had two little moments. When’s number three happening?”

“In your wildest dreams,” you snap back with a hiss, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Wanting to avoid the conversation from moving further, you open the door. “Let’s move, slowpokes, we gotta go!”

“Or yours,” Karina takes the last word as she exits the room.

You can’t argue with your roommate because she’s right. You've been wanting to be with Mark and calling him yours since your first year. Yes, there were times in the past when it seemed like he wanted the same–moments just like the two you just shared–but nothing was explicitly said or done. Feelings were left unsaid. They lingered in the air until the romantic vibe fizzled out and the moment ended. To love and be loved by Mark Lee is your wildest dream. It’s the one you’re sure will never come true. However, there’s a sort of magic in the air in Disneyland–a magic that will make even the impossible possible. You wonder if that bit of magic will apply to you, too.

✨ TOMORROWLAND

7:45am arrives and your friends are following you like little ducklings following their mother. Without you, they would be lost causes.

It’s not your first time in the parks so naturally, you are the one who takes charge. You have all the tickets on your phone, scanning them one by one at the main entrance gate as your friends go through the turnstiles. They wait patiently until you are the last one through the gate.

Karina holds your hand, giggling as you stroll through Main Street, happily taking in the sights and sounds of Disneyland. Mark, Jeno, and Donghyuck are behind you, phones out to capture anything and everything in sight. You hear them excitedly discussing the map, mentioning things that they want to do, and you mentally take note of them all.

At exactly 8am, the ropes held by the cast members drop, signaling the official opening of the park. You quickly lead your friends towards the right of the famous castle and fight your way into Tomorrowland for Space Mountain. As one of the most popular attractions, it’s not so bad in the mornings when you’re one of the firsts in line. Jeno mentioned this ride in the past and you are determined to get him on it.

The crowd is packed like sardines and Karina links her arm through yours as people shove their way through. Amidst the craziness, someone grabs hold of your free hand from behind. From the way his hand fits in yours, you can tell exactly who it is. Jeno’s hand is much larger than this one and it’s a lot rougher than Donghyuck.

You turn your head to see Mark who asks you a question with a simple look. He knows you’re not too fond of crowds and is using this silent exchange as a check-up. You appreciate the gesture, much like how you appreciate every other way Mark looks out for you, and reassure him with a squeeze of his hand. You’ve frequented the park many times over the years so despite the mass of people, you know the theme park like the back of your hand. Mark returns the action and brushes his thumb against your knuckles. He doesn’t let go as the crowd dissipates into the ride queue and you don’t mind that at all.

As much as you love this dark roller coaster, you partially dread going on the ride, or any ride for that matter. The uneven number in your group guarantees that one person will be a single rider throughout the day and you are certain that will be you. Jeno and Karina have been dating for a while now, so it makes sense that they ride together. Even with Mark’s hand still in yours, you’re certain he’ll sit with Donghyuck. When it comes to Mark, Donghyuck loves to cling to his best friend, no matter how annoyed the older one gets. It’s their thing and has been since childhood so who are you to get in the way of that?

The wait goes by quickly, especially with the entertaining debates your friend group comes up with while queued up. It takes your group a mere thirty minutes to get to the front of the line. Once assigned your rows, you wiggle your hand out of Mark’s grip and silently move toward the last gate to make room for Donghyuck.

“Wait, where are you going?” Mark masks his hurt with a confused tone.

“To the back,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh,” his tone drops and you can barely hear him through the echoing sounds of the ride. “I thought–”

“Huh?” you shout from the back row.

Seeing you in the last row, Donghyuck pauses for a second as if contemplating on where to go. “Wait. Why are you here?”

“What do you mean? Are you saying I can’t be here?”

“No. You’re supposed to be–” Your mischievous friend is cut off by the gates opening and the employees instructing you to enter and lower your lap bars. You do what they say and Donghyuck sighs before moving to sit with Mark.

You notice the frustrated look on Donghyuck’s face and an exasperated one on Mark’s but it’s too loud in the room to hear whatever serious thing they’re discussing. You try to lean in closer to catch a glimpse of their conversation but by the time the safety checks are done, you’re launched into darkness at a high speed with the ride soundtrack and Mark’s screams of terror filling your ears.

The ride ends quickly and you all rush to find your photo. Everyone in your vehicle looks like they enjoyed the ride minus Mark, who hid his handsome face in Donghyuck’s arm. The green-eyed monster makes a short appearance in your mind and you wonder how it would’ve been if you stayed with Mark. Would he cling onto you like that too, with his arm looped through yours and his face buried in your neck?

“Why didn’t you tell me this was a roller coaster?” Mark whines as you take a picture of the screen. You immediately send it to your group chat and Giselle, the one person missing on this trip, reacts to it right away.

“Because I knew you’d try to get out of it, you scaredy cat.”

“Rude,” he scoffs, clinging onto you as you lead them to a breakfast spot.

“Spidey, it’s really not that bad.”

“Yeah, says the thrill seeker,” Mark pouts at you, which makes you pinch his cheek. It’s not as soft as it used to be, his baby fat from your first year long gone. It’s replaced by the prominent bone structure that only highlights the features that you secretly want to kiss. “Warn a guy next time.”

“Okay, okay but you still did it! I’m proud of you!”

“Yeah but…” His voice trails off.

“But?” You echo, wondering what Mark wants to say.

He looks shyly at you, a faint redness painting his skin, “Can you sit by me next time?” He asks because you make him feel brave even when he isn’t.

Mark’s timid request has you grinning from ear to ear and your heart beating faster than any roller coaster you’ve been on. Your best friend is expecting an answer, you can tell by his teeth sinking into his thin bottom lip and brown boba eyes widening with each second.

“I mean, you know, like, sitting with Hyuck is cool,” Mark stutters when you don’t answer, trying to explain himself, “but I’d–well, I thought you were gonna sit next to me?” His voice raises at the end due to nervousness and you can’t help but giggle.

“You mean, you were gonna leave poor Hyuck all alone?” you poke fun at him.

Mark deadpans, “He’d survive on his own.”

“I mean, I’ve been here before and it’s everyone else’s first time. I’m okay riding by myself,” you push back with a frown, trying to convince Mark and yourself for that matter, “I just want to make sure everyone is having a good time.”

“I get that but–”

“We’re here!” you cut him off, stopping in front of a quick-service restaurant. You gesture to the door and the others go inside.

Donghyuck, Jeno, and Karina make their way in. You move to follow them but Mark stops you with a hand to your wrist. He hesitates, his mouth opening and closing, and you patiently wait for what he needs to express. The boy lets out a long exhale.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that riding with Hyuck is fun and all but I…” He pauses again. Mark has this habit of not finishing a full thought and you think this is one of those times. Despite that, you listen attentively. “I want you to be my ride partner today, okay?”

And again, your heart shoots to the moon. Its fuel is the adrenaline that runs through your veins as you process his words. A hint of a smile begins to peak out as Mark fuses in front of you.

“I mean, like, I’ve been to theme parks with Hyuck since we were kids, I’m not missing much with that and I just–I kinda–you know–want to experience things with you today.”

The way he confesses this, like every other thing Mark does, is adorable. You hope your forgetful brain will store this memory along with the rest of your core ones. He’s about to go off on another rant, you can tell by the small puffs of breath he takes and the redness that’s flushing his ears, so you end it before it starts.

You cup a hand over his cheek to stop him from going even further and your fingers sense his rapidly beating pulse. “Okay,” you reply softly.

That one word alone has Mark’s expression changing from an unsure one to the brightest face you’ve seen him make all morning. He rivals the sparkles on top of the castle and the bright sun that’s shining over you.

“Really?” He perks up.

“Yeah,” you giggle at his change in mood, “now let’s get some food in you, Spidey boy.”

✨ THE CASTLE

“Get out, Hyuck! Why are you like this?” Karina yells from her spot beside Jeno, clearly frustrated with your friend.

Karina and Jeno stand at the side of the castle, far enough from the crowds but close enough to still get their picture with the iconic landmark. Donghyuck is just out of frame, ready to jump in to ruin whatever adorable shot the couple is trying to take. It doesn’t really matter since you’re continuously snapping away on Karina’s phone. Knowing those two, more than one picture will turn out beautiful. Looking at them, how could they not?

“Because you’re taking too damn long and I want pictures too!”

“You already got yours!” Completely used to their bickering, you shake your head behind the camera.

She’s right. You’ve already taken everyone’s solo pictures at this picturesque spot–Karina taking the longest–and now there were requests for group or partner shots. Jeno, being the perfect Instagram boyfriend, helped take the shots of you and your girl best friend with no pointers needed. You thought you were almost done with this photoshoot but you guessed wrong.

“Not with Mark though!” Donghyuck shouts back, pulling Mark to his side.

“Yo, wait, what?” Mark squeaks.

“You got good enough shots, so move!” Donghyuck has no shame when shoving the resident couple away and dragging Mark to the exact place they stood. You shoot Karina an apologetic look, handing her phone back, right before you grab hold of Donghyuck’s device.

The younger of the duo, as affectionate as he is, has no problem hugging Mark tightly for a picture. Mark sighs but goes with it without much of a fight. You take pictures of Donghyuck hugging Mark from behind, clinging onto the older’s arm, forcing him into making a heart and standing back-to-back. As this goes on for several minutes, you endlessly snap pictures, not even looking at the screen anymore. While doing so, you miss the hushed conversation that happens at the other end of the camera.

“Why am I doing this with you?” Mark hisses in between a grin. His arm around Donghyuck tightens and the younger one almost chokes at the sudden attack. “Are we done yet?”

“Why? Is there someone else you want to take pictures with?”

“Shut up.”

“I will not,” Donghyuck whispers under his breath, wiggling out of Mark’s grip. His volume raises as he announces, “Mark, catch me!” With that, the mischievous kid jumps onto Mark’s back and the elder of the duo has no choice but to do what he says.

Mark groans, “Why are you so annoying?”

“I will continue to be annoying until you man up,” Donghyuck nuzzles his forehead into Mark’s hair with a smirk. “I could keep this going or–”

With that, Mark lets go of his friend’s thighs and Donghyuck slides down with a helpless yelp. The boy is dramatic while dropping to the ground but Mark pays little attention to the action. Instead, he smiles shyly at you.

You raise an eyebrow at the duo’s suspicious actions. “Are you guys good or can we move on now?”

“I–um, actually–” He’s stuttering over his words more than usual, a red tainting his normal skin tone. You know he’s embarrassed but you can’t figure out what’s making him feel this way. The chaotic duo is up to their usual antics of Donghyuck being irritatingly touchy and Mark slowly losing his patience with it all so there’s no visible variable in your eyes. So, what’s the difference in this situation?

“What’s up?” When he doesn’t answer right away, you take that as a sign to keep moving. You turn your body away from him, adjust the straps of your bag to feel more comfortable, and get ready to move on. The park app on your phone is open to all the current wait times and you note that Fantasyland has low numbers, determining the most logical choice for your next destination.

You open your mouth, preparing to spill out your plan to explore Fantasyland when Mark’s feeble voice breaks the silence.

You don’t quite hear him the first time, leaning towards him in hopes that will help you focus on his voice alone. The excitement around the area only increases when the park marching band makes their way to the center of the castle for their afternoon set. Mark huffs in frustration when you fail to hear him for the second time.

But as they say, the third time’s always the charm.

“Take a picture with me!” he yells when the band goes silent. The flush on his face increases tenfold and you almost coo at how flustered he is. His eyes were wide, almost begging for you to grant his request. His ears match the color of his Spider-Man plush hanging on the belt loop of his bottoms.

Wanting to tease him a little more, you say, “We already took a group picture, Marky.”

You hold back your laugh when his hand goes back to fumble with his hair. He muses it, the strands now messy, making him look even more endearing than ever.

“Yeah but–you know what I mean,” Mark’s voice drops at the end, his lips forming a pout. How desperately you want to peck his cheeks but you refrained, still scared of crossing that line. His brows furrowed. “You know what, never mind, dude, let’s go.”

Just as he began to walk away, you tugged him back into place. “I know what you meant, Spidey, I just wanted to mess with you.”

“You’re so mean to me,” he sulks and your fingers reach out to pinch his cheeks. It’s not quite a kiss but it’s close enough.

You run your fingers through his messy hair, quickly fixing it and Mark just lets you, enjoying the little touches you are so willing to give.

“Hyuckie, can you please?” Donghyuck knows exactly what you’re asking of him, taking the phone out of your hands. He sets your phone to 0.5, bends down to get a better angle, and begins to snap away. All the while, you and Mark are a bit awkwardly standing side-by-side for the pictures. Your bodies are stiff--his hand is barely around your waist while his other hand is holding up a peace sign. You copy his pose, your fingers automatically making a V.

“You guys,” Donghyuck sighs, grabbing the attention of Karina and Jeno, “at least act like you’re having fun with these pics. We’re at fucking Disneyland right now.”

Karina laughs at how hopeless the two of you are. She takes pity on you and jumps in to give directions on how to improve your poses. “Mark, if you can just tighten your grip around her waist–”

Mark gulps, his nerves at an all-time high. Your best friend underestimates his own strength as he does what he is told. It happens a little too abruptly and you’re suddenly lurching into his body. Your head lightly hits his chest and you place a hand on the spot to create a little distance. He immediately fusses over you, looking down to check if you’re okay and it turns you into a giggling mess.

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you reassure Mark with a bright smile on your face.

Once he notices that you are nothing but smiles, the curve of Mark’s pretty mouth matches yours. It brightens his handsome face so much that it matches the glitter found at the castle tops. You take a mental picture of the face he makes, eyes and nose scrunched up with happiness, and the golden glow of the summer sun illuminating his beaming aura.

Mark shakes his head and chuckles, pulling you into a hug. You sink into his hold, your chin perching on his shoulder.

In your mind, Mark Lee is your (awkward) Prince Charming. While you stand together by the castle, you cherish every second he makes you feel like royalty. He rocks you for a couple of seconds, swaying to the song playing in his head, and then pulls away. His stare, however, never leaves yours. You don’t dare break the connection. Your eyes curve up into little crescent moons and your hands drift back down to his chest. You feel the slight heaving from his laughter and it makes you giggle even more.

“Stop laughing at me,” he says with a smile.

“Never,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

The two of you are so caught up in your little moment, that you forget that your friends have phones in their hands, documenting everything that just occurred.

“Oh, that one’s cute,” Karina says, snapping the two out of your shared reverie. Jeno and Donhyuck’s heads peak over her shoulders to look at the picture she’s talking about and they hum in reply. Then, she lifts up the phone to your eye level. You and Mark lean forward to take a closer look but the boy refuses to let go of you as you scroll through the selection.

Your finger swipes through what feels like thousands of photos before landing on one that catches your eye. In the photo, you’re so consumed in your laughter, lids closed happily and your dazzling smile half-covered by your hand. Mark holds you in his arms, fondly looking at you with sparkling eyes.

You stare at it a little too long, taking in the way he looks at you. You steal a glance at him and he’s wearing that same soft smile as he scans the photo. It made you wonder if your best friend always looked at you that way. You wonder if this was your first time making note of it.

You pull yourself out of it, knowing that if you ruminate on it anymore, you'll sink into a deep neverending ocean. Your finger taps the bottom of the screen and the heart fills up, adding the picture to your favorite album. You just know this is a picture that had to be included in your photo dump.

“I like this one,” you muster out, fighting the urge to make eye contact with him.

You feel a squeeze around your waist, one that lingers for a moment, and hear him whisper, “I like this one too.”

Mark says it with certainty and with a hint of longing like there’s a deeper meaning behind his words.

There is, of course, a message buried in his words. Mark likes how it’s just the two of you in the picture. He likes how it encapsulates how happy the two of you are in each other’s company. He likes it because it shows how in love with you he is. Mark especially likes it because it has you in it.

Mark Lee likes–no, loves–anything with you in it.

Mark loves you.

Point blank.

Mark loves you.

And Mark hopes that by the end of the night in this magical place, where anything can happen, he can gather enough faith and trust in himself to tell you how he truly feels.

✨ FANTASYLAND

While strolling through Fantasyland, where all things fairy tales come to life, you make a pit stop at a store filled with costumes for princes and princesses. Your friends were amazed to see that deeper into the store, there was a salon that catered especially to children. All the kids sitting in the salon chairs were beaming with excitement as they got their hair and makeup done while dressed up as their favorite characters.

Karina coos as a little princess dressed as Rapunzel passed by her. She ran her fingers through the skirt ends of the costumes, admiring all the different dresses, while the boys immediately reached for the plastic weapons and shields. You hear their dramatic noises as Donghyuck stabs Jeno with a sword. Mark’s familiar laughter bounces off the walls as the fight continues, his hand shakily recording the ridiculous exchange.

“What is this place?” Karina asks curiously, turning to you for an answer. You knew she would love this place–the girl, although people perceived her as a tough girl, loved anything that had to do with princesses.

There’s a sparkle in her eye, which only brightens when she approaches the section belonging to her favorite princess. Karina grabs hold of a pretty character headband, removing the one that’s on her head and tries on the new one. She spins to face you, silently asking if it looks good on her, and you nod enthusiastically, giving her a thumbs up.

“Welcome to the Bippity Boppity Boutique,” you reply happily. Pointing to the cast members working on their guests, you continued, “They’re called Fairy Godmothers in Training. They help the kiddos with their makeovers.”

“Have you done it before?” Mark pops up out of nowhere, a little out of breath from the play fighting he did with the other two. He must’ve joined in the little spar after taking some pictures.

“Yeah, when I was little. I was Cinderella,” you laugh, remembering how pleased you were to be in the chair. You remind yourself to look for those photos; it’s been a while since you’ve seen them. “Can’t do it now as an adult though. Sorry, Rina.”

“Then why’d you bring me here?” She pouts at that, “To torture me? That’s mean. There goes my dream of being a princess.”

Mark bites back a chuckle at her bitter response and Karina has no trouble slapping his shoulder to shut him up. You choose to ignore the childish exchange.

“Well,” you start to say, inching towards the counter where a cast member eyes you curiously. “We can’t get full makeovers but we can get pixie dusted.”

“Pixie dusted?” Mark echoes, tilting his head in confusion. Your fingers twitch and you fight the urge to pet his head.

“The fairy godmothers have wands with them and they basically sprinkle glitter on top of your head while you make a wish. It’s really cute!”

The light in Karina’s eyes glows even brighter than before. “Really? Oh my god, can I do it?!” she asks, bouncing on the heels of her feet.

“I knew you’d like it,” you giggle.

“Babe!” She calls Jeno over.

His head pops up over a display, resembling a puppy hopping out of a hole they just dug. “Yeah?”

“Get pixie dusted with me,” Karina requests, reaching out for him with her wiggling fingers.

Jeno quickly sets down the toys he was playing with, leaving a whining Donghyuck behind, and follows his girlfriend’s lead blindly.

You and Mark watch them silently, both with smiles on your faces, as the couple holds hands and closes their eyes. The worker mumbles a little spiel as she taps her wand, the glitter raining down on their heads. Your camera is at the ready, finger holding down on the burst button for this special moment, capturing Karina’s tiny squeals and Jeno’s chuckles as the pixie dust settles in their hair and on their skin.

“Anyone else?” The Fairy Godmother in Training asks politely, looking at you expectantly.

Mark nudges your side. “You gonna do it?”

“Of course. I’ll never pass up getting pixie dusted,” you say matter-of-factly, stepping forward.

“I want to do it, too,” Mark proclaims, stepping with you.

You laugh and warn him, “You wanna deal with glitter in your hair? It’s going to stay there for days.”

He shrugs, “They grant wishes, right? Maybe I need mine to come true.”

“Oh, yeah? And what wish is that, Spidey?”

He holds a slender figure to his lips. “If I tell you, then it definitely won’t come true. And I need all the help I can get with this one.”

You eye him suspiciously and when he doesn’t give it up, you sigh in defeat. Preparing yourself for the glitter, you bow your head down and close your eyes with your fingers linked together in the tightest hold. Your best friend nudges his forehead against yours and you let out a surprised giggle.

Just like Mark said he needs all the help he can get. He isn’t wishing for any regular thing. He wishes for something more precious than that–your heart.

Sure, this is most likely playing make-believe but Mark Lee wants to believe in it. Maybe this is the little bit of magic he needs. Some might say he’s too old for this sort of thing but he wants to believe in fairy godmothers. He wants to believe in the shiny powder that they call pixie dust. He wants to believe in the magic that you do.

So when the glitter pours down on him, Mark shuts his eyes tightly and grips your hands with all his might.

Mark wishes for your wish to come true,

Mark wishes for your happiness.

But most of all, Mark wishes to be yours.

Your next stop is quite the staple in the park and it’s a must-do on your list. Luckily, they all agree with you and suddenly, you are in line for the iconic teacups. For the summer, the wait isn’t too long–a mere fifteen minutes before it’s your group’s loading time. Before getting on the ride, the five of you decide to break into two groups instead of all squeezing into one tiny spice.

In their excitement, Karina and Donghyuck rush to claim a vehicle. Donghyuck lightly shoves Karina’s side when he realizes they are both aiming for the same cup, causing her to lose her balance. She groans once he hops into the pink teacup with hearts decorating the sides and scurries to grab another pink cup.

“Why are you two like this?” You shout after them, shaking your head.

“When are we not like this?” Hyuck shouts back, his arms already spread across the rim of the cup. He calls you to join him and you do, closely followed by Mark.

Once you are seated and the door to the vehicle is closed, Donghyuck’s expression changes. “We need to spin this baby as fast as we can and we need to last longer than”–he sends a playful glare towards Jeno, whose hands are already resting on the wheel–“them.”

“Oh god, not this shit again,” you roll your eyes.

The boys have an ongoing competition when it comes to spinning rides like these. Whoever spins for the longest period wins; the losers have to treat the winners to a prize of their choice. In the past, it’s been food, plushies, and anything else you can think of.

“Can we just be normal for once?”

“Bubs,” Mark laughs, “when are we ever normal?”

“Touche.”

Donghyuck dramatically drops his hands on the wheel, “Are you ready?”

There’s really no point in this competition. Although Jeno has a stronger build than you, Mark, or Donghyuck, there are only two of them in their cup as opposed to the three of you. There’s a clear winner. Despite that, you copy your mischievous friend’s actions, a smile breaking through your unamused facade. “Alright, Hyuck.”

The spiel is blasted over the speakers, the music begins, and off you all go. Laughter surrounds you as the ride begins to spin. Your hands speedily make work and giggles spill out of your mouth when your hands pile on top of Donghyuck. Your friend matches your enthusiasm, his face crinkled in concentration as he turns the wheel, his whole body moving along with the teacup. You steal a glance at Jeno and Karina; seeing them only fueled your competitiveness and motivation to win this useless contest.

Mark, on the other hand, did not add to the spinning. He just watches his best friends, phone in hand. The device captures the most candid moments of you—smile wide enough to hear your laughter through the screen, hair flying in the wind, hands either gripping the wheel or Donghyuck when the cup goes a little too fast.

Mark snaps a picture of you and Donghyuck cackling, bodies thrown over each other in the height of their fun. Even when your gorgeous smile is aimed at his best friend and not him, jealousy isn’t coursing through his veins. A warm feeling does instead—Mark just loves to see you happy.

He captures one last picture of you, your bright grin shining at him, and your hand reaching towards his camera. If someone were to play that Live Photo back, they would hear the giggles living in your voice as you call Mark’s name to join in on the fun.

This picture is the one he saves in his favorites folder and of course, in his heart.

✨ AVENGERS CAMPUS

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” you ask Mark although the answer is obvious. Ever since you got in line, the boy beside you fidgeted with anything and everything possible. When he wasn’t playing with the keychains on your bag, he messed with the drawstrings of his cargo pants. He had a hard time staying still.

“No one asked you, Bubs," Mark hisses. His voice softens a moment later when he apologizes for snapping. The fussiness he exhibits is adorable in all kinds of ways and you fight the urge to mess with his hair in the meantime. You know it would only make him feel worse.

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know,” you reassure him as the people in front of you step forward. “It’s not every day you meet your childhood hero.”

“Isn’t this–I don’t know–a bit childish of me to feel like this? I mean, it’s just a guy in a suit.”

“Hey,” you say, hating the way your best friend tried to bring himself down, “we’re here to let our inner child out. If you’re nervous or excited or whatever you’re feeling, just feel it.”

Mark sighs as the line moves again. “Right. You’re right.”

You laugh, ruffling his hair, “Aren’t I always?”

The boy groans, fingers immediately rising to fix his fringe. “Don’t mess it up, dude, it’s almost my turn.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips instead of an apology. You’re so fond of him. “You’re too cute.”

His cheeks flush with a bright red which only increases his cuteness factor. Mark, flustered as ever, opens his mouth to ask what you mean by that. His sentence is interrupted by the character attendant calling for the next person in line. Your best friend’s nerves are at an all-time high at this point and he looks to you for support.

You shake your head negatively and gesture to the phone in your hand. “This is all you, I have to take your pics!”

Mark sticks his tongue at you in retaliation before taking a deep breath. He approaches the awaiting figure with a cautiousness you’ve never seen from him. But with all due respect, Spider-Man is standing right there in front of him. If your favorite comic book and superhero character of all time stood in front of you, you’d probably react the same way.

“H-hey,” Mark stutters out. You stifle a laugh as you snap the first picture of Mark and Spider-Man shaking hands.

“Hey, man, what’s your name?” Spider-Man greets enthusiastically. He gestures to Mark’s Spider-Man shirt, “Love the shirt.”

“It’s Mark,” he manages to say, “I’m a big fan. We just went on your ride and it was so cool.” Mark gestures to the building behind them, which housed the ride. It was an interactive ride that tasked the riders to help Spider-Man save the Avengers-themed area by shooting webs with motion-tracking technology. “My arm’s kinda tired though, I don’t think I could shoot webs like you.”

His rambling comment makes Spider-Man chuckle, his voice muffled through the red mask. “Yeah, I guess slinging webs isn’t for everyone. But hey, maybe if you train more, and go on the ride a few more times, you’ll be just as good as I am. We’re always looking to recruit new members to the team. You look like you’d be a great addition.”

Mark’s eyes glow with delight as the actor continues to shower him with compliments. “Yo, wait, that’d be so cool!”

“Should I show you some poses to start off with?” Spider-Man excitedly suggests. Mark easily complies and happily follows all the instructions the superhero gives him. While doing so, they stare right into your camera and you snap several photos of each pose.

The joy radiating off of Mark’s face is enough to make your heart soar to a new height. The merriment he and your other friends exhibit as they make their way through the park is why you keep coming back. Disneyland brings everyone’s happiest self out and you will never grow tired of seeing people’s youthfulness shine through.

“Got ‘em!” you shout from your place, giving the duo a thumbs up.

You laugh as both of them return the thumbs up with a lightning-quick speed. Many people pointed out Mark’s speedy reactions, calling them his Spidey senses. Seeing Mark stand tall right next to Spider-Man himself, reacting the same way the character does, makes the term all the more fitting for your friend.

“Hey, you wanna jump in with us for a picture, too?” Spider-Man calls out to you.

“Oh!” you exclaim, not expecting that at all. Your sole goal was to take Mark’s picture with his hero. The thought of you joining in for a picture didn’t even cross your mind. “Sure, why not?” you grin, quickly handing the phone to the attendant on standby.

You swiftly shuffle into position, copying Spider-Man’s iconic pose, as the cast member takes a couple of shots on your phone. They prompt you to pose for the professional camera they have on hand as well and the three of you switch up your poses. The wide smile on your face is identical to Mark’s as the flash goes off. A feeling higher than contentment floods your entire being. You’re happy, incredibly so, to be in this moment with Mark and his hero.

You’re happy.

You see Mark dive right into another rambling burst with the prettiest little sparkle in his eye and you’re in love.

You’re happy and in love with Mark.

Standing by for just a second, you see Spider-Man turn to you and nod his head in acknowledgment. Wordlessly, you open your arms to ask for a hug and the character accepts. “Thank you for making my Spidey’s day,” you whisper as Spider-Man squishes you to his side. “It means a lot to us.”

The actor catches onto the nickname and comments, “He’s your hero, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s my everything,” you confess under your breath and your face immediately heats up upon realizing what you said to a complete stranger.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

The moment passes so quickly, that Mark doesn’t even grasp that two of his favorite people held their own side conversation. You give Spider-Man one last wave, retreat back to the attendant who hands you your phone, and stand off to the side to swipe through the pictures. Mark stops his little rant to watch you with a slight tilt of his mouth.

“She’s a good one,” Spider-Man brings Mark out of his thoughts, “We could use a recruit like her too.”

“She’s really special,” Mark lets out a fond laugh as you happily show your friends the pictures you’ve captured. “She’s my MJ, man.”

The character beside him laughs, not out of ridicule, but because of the similarities the two of you share. “Does she know that?”

“Nah,” Mark’s hair ruffles with the breeze as he shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Better let her know soon then,” he pats Mark on the back, gently pushing him in your direction. “And don’t let her go once you have her,” his hero adds as an afterthought.

Mark turns back to give Spider-Man one last smile, “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Mark Lee doesn’t have you in the way that he wants to, at least not yet, but once he does, there is no way he is letting you out of his sight. He may be the one who carries the heroic nickname but you are the one who has caught him in your web of love. Wherever you go, you have his whole heart.

You are his whole heart.

How can Mark Lee ever live without his whole heart?

✨ CARSLAND / SH-BOOM

“Hurry up, hurry up!” you call to your exhausted friends, who drag their feet behind you.

“But we’re tired,” Karina whines as her steps grow heavier. She’s stolen her boyfriend’s hat to beat the heat but has little luck doing so. Jeno, noting this, turns his portable fan to face her. She wearily smiles at him, squeezing the hand conjoined with hers to thank him.

Donghyuck echoes Karina’s sentiments but you ignore their complaints altogether.

There’s no time to slow down, you think, as you make note of the time. The sun is about to set and your group still hasn’t reached the spot you want–no, need–to be in. You understand their exhaustion because you feel the same way but deep down, you know the hustling will be worth their while.

“You guys, just do what she says,” Mark comes to your defense, giving you a reassuring glance, “I mean, she hasn’t let us down this whole day. I’m sure whatever she’s rushing us for will be worth it.”

You weave and bob through the crowds with ease and your friends fall in line behind you. You pass through the entrance of Avengers Campus and lead them straight into Carsland. A mass of people are gathered at the entrance of the land and you cringe at how packed it is. But upon hearing Donghyuck gasp with excitement, you grin and bear it. In the past, your friend mentioned that Cars was one of his favorite childhood movies. Since you’ve found that out, you’ve gifted him a Lightning McQueen present every year for his birthday.

“Holy shit, bro, I’m in Radiator Springs,” Donghyuck clutches your arm, “This is the best thing ever.”

“Oh, believe me, Hyuckie, it gets even better,” you say, pulling your friend along with you. You giggle at his reactions to every little detail you point out–how everything is built to scale, that all visitors are meant to be cars, how every third blink of the traffic light is slower just like the movie–and his brown eyes widen in childlike wonder.

Once again, Mark stands back as you take care of Donghyuck. He appreciates all the thought you put into this trip–making sure you know everyone’s specific interests and adjusting the day’s itinerary to meet everyone’s wishes. Jeno wanted to get on every thrill ride possible, so you purchased the Lightning Lane express passes to guarantee he had a good time. Karina wanted to feel like a princess, so you took her to the Boutique to get pixie dusted and scheduled time in the Fantasyland area to take as many pictures as she wanted. You spent a bit of time in Avengers Campus so Mark could get the entire Spider-Man experience. And now, you’re expertly guiding Donghyuck through Radiator Springs, equally excited as your friend who’s experiencing everything for the first time.

When everyone else voiced how worn out they were throughout the long summer day, you kept the spirits up and took care of each and every one of them. You may have not outwardly mentioned how spent you were but Mark caught onto the signs. While you were busy tending to each person's wants and needs, Mark found himself taking care of you. You’ve done so much for the group, he wonders what exactly he could do in return.

“Alright, stop right here,” you stop in the middle of the land, granting the group the perfect view of the land, “and face this way.”

“Why are we stopping? Isn’t the ride right there?” Donghyuck points to the end of the area. “I thought we were heading there.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “there’s something we gotta do first.”

“What’s everyone standing around for?” Jeno asks, hugging Karina from behind.

The others take a look around to see that a large crowd has formed in this area of the park, all facing the same way. Everyone is eagerly waiting for the same thing you are, their phones propped up in the air. You take another peek at your weather app and it deems it around one minute before sunset. Perfect.

“Well, my good sir, you are about to find out,” you answer cryptically.

You squeeze Donghyuck’s hand. “You ready, Hyuck?”

“For wha–” His sentence is cut off by the area loop music increasing in volume. Everyone around you cheers as Sh-Boom by The Chords starts to blast through the speakers. “Oh my god.”

The rest of Donghyuck’s sentence is trapped between his teeth as the neon lights, starting from the furthest point of the area, begin to light up. It’s an exact replica of the movie, the lights flickering on with the beat of the old-time music. The bright lights resemble your friends’ expressions, the giddiness of experiencing this iconic moment apparent on their faces. Donghyuck is practically glowing with childlike wonder, bouncing on the balls of his feet. You snap a photo of him as he continues to take it in. Jeno sways Karina back and forth, his arms wrapped around his girlfriend’s waist and chin resting on her shoulder as she records the whole thing.

Smiling, you turn to look at Mark whose eyes are solely trained on you. His phone is in hand, aimed in your direction, and you assume he took a picture of the lit-up signs behind you. “Isn’t it so pretty?” you ask, hands gesturing to the entire area.

Mark’s gaze doesn’t falter, doesn’t leave you when he answers, “It’s the prettiest.”

A heat spreads to all parts of your face and body at his flirtatious response. You turn away from him, too embarrassed to meet his soft stare. “It’s one of my favorite times of the day. My family always came here at sunset just to watch it. It’s fun watching everyone’s reactions and seeing people dance to the music, like them”–you point to a dancing couple, the man spinning his partner and the woman laughing gleefully–“I dunno, it just makes me happy.”

“I can see why,” Mark chuckles.

Your gaze lingers on the duo and Mark spots a look of longing in your eyes. Your best friend sees a chance, one as clear as day, and with all the bravado he can muster, Mark takes it. He tugs you towards him and you gasp at the sudden movement.

“What?” you whisper.

Mark sticks out a hand for you to take and bashfully says, “Dance with me.”

“What?” you repeat in shock, eyes dropping from his face to his outstretched hand.

“You heard what I said,” your best friend chuckles, “Dance with me.”

Instead of waiting for a response from you, Mark takes your palm in his and gently places his other hand around your waist. Your breath catches in your throat, anxious eyes meeting his own, and the boy shoots you a reassuring smile. He takes the lead, guiding you through a few swing steps as you dance on the street. You’re a little unfocused through it all, your mind wandering from the warmth of his touch to his unfaltering look.

“Have you always known how to swing?” you ask as he leads you into a spin.

Mark dances with an ease you don’t expect from his clumsy self. You’re used to his harder, sharper style of dancing he exhibits when you all go out dancing–the lighter style catching you completely off-guard. It makes you fall for your best friend a little more than you already have.

He nods as he catches you in his arms before turning you around again. “Yeah, I learned from watching my parents dance. I only really danced with my mom, though. I guess I was just–” Mark coughs, shaking his head.

“Just what?” You egg him on, wanting to hear what your crush has to say.

“No, never mind, it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” you quip.

“Nah, it’s stupid,” Mark tries to dismiss it, distracting you with another spin.

With him being the perfect leader, your sneaker-clad feet move in time with him, following wherever he goes. “Nothing you say is going to be stupid,” you add, squeezing his palm.

You know you’ve won the argument when Mark sighs. He’s so close to you now, you can feel his breath hit your face. There’s a hint of fresh spearmint, coming from the gum you offered him earlier. Any closer and your lips can press right into his, completing the romantic moment that you could only dream about.

Mark gulps nervously as you look up at him with confusion. The words come tumbling out before he can stop himself from making a fool, “I guess I was just waiting for the right partner.”

There’s more to Mark’s sweet reply than meets the eye. Once again, you burn up at the implications. You shouldn’t assume the meaning behind your crush’s words but something about the way he said it makes you believe that you are the partner he is waiting for. To be deemed worth waiting for is a girl’s deepest fantasy and your heart swells in your chest at the thought of it all.

Despite the rapid thoughts running through your head, the only thing you can spit out is a quiet, “Oh.”

Mark renders you speechless at the favorite part of the day and in your favorite place in the entire world; he pockets this as a big win. With his warm hand resting at your waist and the other clutching your calm, Mark leads you into a flurry of sequential moves. Never once does he bump into another person in the crowd, he navigates through the small space you’re granted so gracefully. Dancing with him brings you to such a natural high, you feel lighter than air.

The laughter that spills from your lips fills his heart with joy and as the song reaches its end, the arm at your waist tightens enough to usher you into a dip. As your torso lowers, his body follows your own. He keeps you in this position, his pretty brown eyes glued onto your shaking pupils. He’s so near, that your sight triangulates from his eyes down to his grinning lips. You notice the pink that tickles his skin, from his squishy cheeks to his pierced ears.

As Mark pulls you back up, you circle your arms around his neck and give him the biggest hug in existence. You whisper a light and heartfelt, “thank you,” in his ears and Mark responds by pulling you closer.

While the song that played through the speakers announced, “Life could be a dream,” Mark Lee deems that his life already is. To him, his life is a dream and that’s because you’re in it.

✨ FIREWORKS

The sun has set and your entire group is tired but the day’s not quite over yet. The five of you are amongst the throng of people seated on the asphalt, bodies splayed in all sorts of configurations. Karina and Jeno are in front of you, whispering happily as they go through all of their pictures together. Donghyuck has no problem taking a nap on the floor, using some plastic bags as his makeshift mattress and Karina’s new plushie as a pillow. Mark, on the other hand, is seated on your right and silently playing a game on his phone.

The extent of your tiredness didn’t hit until you sat on the floor, a groan leaving your mouth as you fought to find a comfortable position. The ground really isn’t the best place to sit but you have to camp out for the best view of the castle and the fireworks. You find yourself hugging your legs and resting your face on your knees to keep yourself warm. The weather is a lot cooler than it was earlier in the day and the slight breeze has you shivering.

“You okay?” Mark asks, still looking at his phone.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“You keep moving around like you’re uncomfortable or something,” Mark pauses his game and notices the goosebumps on your skin, “Bubs, are you cold?”

“Yeah, just a little bit but I’ll deal with it.” You leave out the fact that you’re tempted to buy a sweater from a gift shop, just as you do every single time you get cold in the parks. It’s an expensive tradition you need to break. Plus, there’s no more room in your closet for more cozy crewneck sweaters.

Another quiver runs through your body as the winds blow through the area. Mark frowns as you tighten the grip around your legs. He immediately shrugs off the zip-up he wore, draping it around your curled-up shoulders. The warmth of the fabric combined with the smell of his cologne hits you all at once.

“Mark, I told you I’m okay,” you pout at him as he gets up from his spot. He stops you from taking it off, his palms firm on your back. “You’re gonna get cold.”

He disagrees, pulling the hood over your head. “Nah, I run hot anyway. I don’t want you to get sick or anything so just leave it on, okay?”

“But–”

“For me?” Mark pushes. He smiles when you pout even further, knowing there’s no way you can beat him in this conversation. “That’s my girl,” he adds, a hand coming to cup the back of your neck. A sudden urge comes over him and before he even places what he's doing, Mark plants a tiny kiss on the top of your head. You feel the slight pressure of his lips between the fabric and your head is reeling the second he pulls back.

“I’ll be right back,” Mark whispers before setting off into the crowd.

You’re frozen in place, the ability to respond nonexistent in your mind. You simply watch as he fades away and then, the shyest smile breaks through. There are no clouds left in the sky but you’re officially on Cloud 9, your heart beating rapidly in your chest, and your face buried into the sleeve ends of his jacket.

True to his word, your best friend returns fifteen minutes later with a plastic bag in one hand and a hot drink in the other. Mark pulls out the coziest Disney-themes blanket you have ever seen, folds it in half, and then places it onto the floor. He motions for you to sit on it and you smile even wider. “Better?” he asks as you settle crisscross on the soft fabric.

A relieved sigh slips past your lips as the soft material rubs against your skin. “So much better.”

Mark plops himself right beside you. His bare arm presses against yours in an attempt to fit on the blanket. There’s lots of space left but you don��t mind, snuggling right up to his side. He chuckles at your action, draping his arm around your hoodie-clad shoulders to pull you closer. “Got you a hot chocolate too, passed by the cafe across from the gift shop,” your crush gently places the drink in your hands.

“You really didn’t have to,” you mutter, hiding your smile behind the drink.

“Wanted to.”

“Thanks,” you reply in between your tiny sips.

“Anything for you, Bubs.”

With his arm around you and your body cozied up to his side, the time passes quickly. You’re in your own world, your quiet conversations drowned out by the chatter of the large crowd surrounding the castle area. The cocoa is passed back and forth between his hand and yours, an indirect kiss shared each either of you takes a sip. You laugh over things that happened throughout the day, from Mark’s burnt tongue to all the hideous ride pictures your friends took while wholeheartedly enjoying themselves.

When Mark takes a big sip, you crack an unexpected joke that leaves him choking on the drink. Your roaring laughter attracts the attention of the others around you but you are so into Mark, you don’t even notice. He’s a sputtering mess, with the hot drink all over his cheeks and hands. You help him through it, one hand patting his back and the other reaching up to wipe away the liquid with his sleeve.

“You’re so silly,” you whisper fondly as your thumb rubs against his soft cheek.

“No, you just caught me off guard,” Mark replies, nuzzling into your hand. The moment feels a little too intimate, especially when his fingers reach up to connect with yours, but you don’t want it to end. It finally feels like something good is happening. It feels like the dream you’ve kept deep in your heart is coming true and you don’t want to fight it.

You pay no attention to the way your friends are staring knowingly at you like this was all meant to happen. Your eyes are solely trained on Mark and how he holds you so delicately as if you were a bubble about to burst. Mark keeps you tucked into him until the five-minute before the fireworks announcement blasts through the speakers.

Mark is the first to get up off the blanket and you hate how easily he does so. The feeling of pins and needles travel down your legs as you try to get up. You moan in pain, struggling to get up. When you finally rise from the ground, your knees buckle and you lose your balance. A little noise slips out as you stumble, your clumsiness almost leading you straight into another person. Strong hands from behind immediately fly to your hips to keep you steady and you fall right back into Mark’s sturdy chest.

His hands remain at your hips as you turn to look at him. You mumble an apology and he clutches your waist a little harder. “Who’s the silly one now, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Even as the moment ends, Mark’s hands stay in place. The only movement he makes is a minuscule tug that molds you into his chest. He hears no complaints from you, just a pleased little sigh, that signals you’re one hundred percent okay with what is happening.

The surrounding lights dim, projections on the castle come alive, and music that could only be described as magical begins to play. It’s the scene of your dreams–you are in the hold of someone you love as fireworks light up the sky. The show’s just begun and here you are, wishing you can stay in this moment forever.

Seeing as how he’s made it this far, Mark puts on his bravest face and circles his arms around your waist. You hum in approval, resting your hands right above his. He replies by tangling his digits with yours and you smile so widely, it’s brighter than the pyrotechnics shooting off above you.

The soundtrack isn’t new to you; it’s the show the park features every summertime, so you find yourself humming along to every section and transition that passes. By the time the love-themed section bleeds through the sound system and the castle glows with pinks and reds, you tell your best friend, “This is my favorite part.”

He says nothing in response, too busy admiring you instead of the show. Mark rests his chin on your shoulder, his gaze directed at the side of your face. He takes in the sight of the glow the lights cast on you, your lips curled up as you mouth each and every lyric.

It’s quite obvious that he’s staring at you. Even if you didn’t catch him from the corner of your eye, you feel Mark’s steady breath hit your neck and cheek. Your entire body radiates heat upon this realization. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to calm the hopeless romantic inside you.

You want to look at him, you really do, but you’re scared of what will follow after you meet Mark’s eyes. But when he whispers about your favorite song playing, your heart swells at his great memory, and you turn.

The tip of Mark’s nose grazes yours after your sudden movement. You’re right there, less than a breath away from him, and his eyes are filled with immense tenderness. In your years of knowing Mark Lee, you’ve never seen him look at another person the way he’s looking at you at this moment. It’s a look filled with endearment and affection, leaving your heart swelling in your chest.

You barely hear the boom of the fireworks shooting off, not when Mark’s eyes flitter down to your parted lips. He’s captivated your heart and soul, you can’t help but nudge your nose against his as you inch closer. It’s a silent signal, one he understands without further explanation. Your best friend shuts his eyes, calls upon the glittery pixie dust that sits in his hair and makes his final wish of the night. He wishes for the strength to make his next move.

Mark’s soft lips touch yours most delicately; the press is merely there, and it throws you for a loop. The kiss makes you so incredibly giddy, that you turn your head even more and your hand anchors itself to his cheek. It keeps you steady as he dives in for seconds, this one more eager than the first. With your favorite love song in the background and the fireworks booming in the distance, you are happier than ever.

You are so happy that your wide grin and little giggles cause Mark to break away for a short moment. He plants another peck amid your laughter and soon he’s chuckling too. The arms around your waist lock you in place as he burrows into the crook of your neck, placing the tiniest kiss where your pulse hammers against your skin.

Mark’s feet are on the ground but he feels like he’s flying. His heart has grown wings, allowing him to soar to new heights. He feels like he can touch every little star in the sky. Kissing you in this land of make-believe, underneath the fireworks, feels like a miracle and he fears that he will never come down again.

He’s pretty sure the gleam in your eyes mirrors his own. It’s so pretty and bright and magical–it encompasses all the emotions stirring in his chest. They start from his heart, bubble up through his neck, and the words he’s been meaning to say spill out as a crescendo booms throughout the area. “You’re my wish come true.”

Turning in his hold, you circle your arms around his neck. You draw him closer, your lips ghosting against his to say, “And you are mine,” before closing the sentence with another kiss.

You’ve always loved fairytale endings–how the prince always gets the princess at the end of the story. When he grins against your lips, you realize you’ve been in one the entire time. The story of you and Mark is more than a dream that filled your head. It’s more than something you wished upon a star for. Your story is the slowest burn that led to the greatest happy ending.

All it needed was a little faith, trust, and a whole lot of pixie dust.

TAGLIST. (tagging my gen taglist and friends that I think will be interested in it hehehe) @winwintea @johtenrecs @lavendersuh @itsapapisongo @nctsworld @hotdogct @smileysuh @suhnnyskiess @jaemdonuts @haetrack @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky

FINAL PARK ANNOUNCEMENT. Hey everyone! Long time no post. I think the last time I posted a fic was in either December or January? I'm happy to be back for a hot second. This fic was inspired by many things: Mark calling his fans "his MJ," my personal visits to Disneyland over the years, and especially the trips I've gone on with friends that I've met on this site. Hehehe. I really hope you all enjoy this rainbow of magic and fluff. Please let me know what you think of it. Your feedback keeps me going! Love always, Nikki <3

#nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct x reader #mark lee #mark imagines #mark scenarios #mark fanfic #mark fluff #mark lee x reader #mark x reader

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r0-boat · 5 months ago

Text

Whb kingley group chat and reader

Sfw and NSFW sprinkled throughout but this is mostly just crack

[Beel summoned Satan to the group chat]

[Beel summoned Mammon to the group chat]

Satan: Oh, are we actually doing this?

Beel: yur

[Beel summoned Lucifer to the group chat]

[Beel summoned Belphegor to the group chat]

[Beel summoned Asmodeus to the group chat]

Lucifer: an interesting way to improve political relations, very well My interest has peaked.

Mammon: agreed it would be useful to have all of you at my fingertips.

Satan: That sentence pisses me off and I don't know why.

Mammon: is there something wrong with having easy access to your possessions 🤨

Satan: Al'right adding 'beating your ass' to my list of things to do today

Asmodeus: kinky.

Lucifer: Asmodeus I thought you were on earth?

Asmodeus: I am, it's lovely here by the way, but the cell phone service is relatively lackluster compared to hell, so that I won't be talking here as much.

Mammon: speaking of my possessions Beelzebub You have forgotten Leviathan.

Beel: Actually no I haven't you'll see why.

[Beel summoned Leviathan to the group chat]

Satan: LEVI!!!

[Leviathan has left the group chat]

Satan: LOLOL

Mammon: I don't know why I'm surprised.

[Beel summoned Leviathan to the group chat]

[Leviathan has left the group chat]

Lucifer: if he does not wish to be in the group chat that much then don't add him.

Beel: nah cuz if he's not added then I won't hear the end of it later. That kind of shit drives him crazy.

[Beel summoned Leviathan to the group chat]

[Leviathan has left the group chat]

Satan: Wait I have an idea.

Satan: add him again.

Beel: Aight

[Beel summoned Leviathan to the group chat]

Beel: Levi is still typing quick Satan!

[Satan summoned MC to the group chat]

Mammon: lmao he stopped typing.

Beel: btw Thank you for that I was going to add them anyway.

Satan: no problem! Happy to help you annoy Levi

Leviathan: if you annoying Fucks what me to waste my time so badly then so be it!

Lucifer: That is not why you stayed...

Mc: ??? What's happening?

Satan: we planned a group chat about a decade ago and we're finally doing it. And we thought you would like to join us! :)

Mc: ooh! I hardly see all of you together like this!:3

Mammon: Master seems extremely happy and excited we will not disappoint you.🥰

Belphegor: 👋

Mc: Hi Belphie

Satan: Oh? did the king of sloth just wake up?? 😏

Belphegor: Actually i've been awake for the past 30 minutes my phone wouldn't stop going off

Mc: I'm surprised you didn't have your notifications turned off.

Belphegor: They were but i turned them on when i got your phone number

Mc: Aww! 🥰

Satan: regretting giving you a phone suddenly.

Mc: You can pry out of my cold dead hands♥️

Mammon: the current phone MC has is so outdated I could get you many more up-to-date models. Ones with advanced AI features are all the rage in tartaros

Mc: no thanks I'm not interested in anything with AI

Mammon: 😭 I understand Master

Asmodeus: I would assume that phones on Earth would have a hard time connecting in hell just as much as hell devices have a hard time connecting on earth.

Mc: OH! ASMODEUS! HELLO!!

Asmodeus: Hi sweetheart, sadly I won't be able to talk to you very often but we will soon have a more proper meeting.

Leviathan: I don't think Asmodeus and MC should be in the same room.

Satan: for once Levi, I agree with you.

Beel: they're combined horniness will be enough to take out heaven hell and earth

Lucifer: lol

Mammon: All hail King horny of the three realms

Leviathan: All hail

Lucifer: All hail

Satan: All hail

Beel: All hail

Belphegor: all hail

Mc: Y'all are such assholes

Satan: That's like 90% of my personality

Beel: you like it

Leviathan: demons are assholes and the sky is blue, What are you expecting??

Mammon: Master, I, for one, do not mind if you actually start your crusade.

Asmodeus: Don't listen to them dear They don't understand our power 😈

Lucifer: is this what an 'inside joke' is? It was actually quite funny.

Asmodeus: honestly I should be jealous of you guys, while I'm on vacation you guys are having all the fun...😔

Mc: Don't worry, will have plenty of time to make it up for the lost time.🫣

Satan: NOPE fUUUUCK THAT.

Leviathan: DIE.

Lucifer: ... I'll prepare your medical bed preemptively.

Beel: Make sure you film it.

Mammon: without me 😔 smh

Belphegor: y'all are so funny I think I might like it here.

#whb #what in hell is bad #wihib #whb asmodeus #whb belphegor #whb beelzebub #whb leviathan #whb lucifer #whb satan #whb mammon #whb mc #whb x reader #what in “hell” is bad?

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bbyseok · 2 years ago

Text

bakugou katsuki is not a lovesick fool.

he’s better than that, he swears. he swears with his entire being. he’s not one of those down bad people who gets butterflies from the simplest of things.

but as he walks out of the shower, feeling refreshed and clean from his daily workout in the school’s gym, his phone dings with a notification on his nightstand.

normally, he mutes the damn thing with how often the group of extras (aka, his friends) blow up their shared group chat they forced him to join, but things have been different lately.

katsuki is clad in one of his famous black tank tops, paired with a loose pair of shorts of the same color. his towel rests around his neck as he grabs the device, fingers automatically tapping on the notification and taking him to the messages app.

when he sees who the text is from, he can’t even resist the grin thats tugs on the corners of his lips.

it’s from you. it’s blunt, no more than three letters, but it’s enough to have him fucking smiling.

you: wyd

his fingers tap away in order to reply, using one hand and the other to use an end of the towel draped over his shoulder to keep drying his damp hair.

bakugou: what do you want

okay—yeah. he’s curt and not answering your question. but it’s too late now; he already sent it.

the three pending dots that appear almost immediately that indicate you’re typing has him blinking at the small screen in faint surprise. you’re fast.

you: i couldnt find you in the commons area or the gym :(

oh, with the frowny face he could just picture the pout you were probably wearing on your lips right now. he responds.

bakugou: so you were trying to fucking stalk me?

you: no!! ofc not

bakugou: sounds like something a stalker would say

you: >:(

he snickers out loud at your banter and finishes drying his hair, flinging the towel towards the hamper in the corner of the room.

bakugou: to answer your question, i was in the gym actually. you probably just missed me leaving

you: aw man :(

katsuki can’t help but roll his eyes at your antics.

bakugou: you act like you didn’t see me in class today dummy

you: is it a crime that i want to see you outside of class?

when you say—or in this case, text—things like that, he isn’t too sure how to respond. it has him scowling, all flustered for no reason.

bakugou: yeah yeah

he’s sure his sarcastic tone can be heard even through his text. you simply send a smiley emoji in reply.

katsuki hesitates, his fingers hovering over the screen. and then he types.

bakugou: you can join me in gym tomorrow after class then if you wanna see me so bad

his breath stills when he sees those dots again.

you: ok!! it’s a date then yeah?

what? a what? his head is spinning just from reading your text. is he reading this right? you’re actually making a move on him? and then you’re already sending your next message, giving him no time to gather his thoughts and reply back.

you: good night katsuki!! 😘

oh.

he finds himself sliding down onto the floor right next to his bed, cheek resting on the side of the mattress. his knees curl to his chest as he stares at his phone, blushing like a madman.

“fuck.”

okay. maybe bakugou katsuki is a lovesick fool.

#bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #rain’s writing #my writing

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artemis32 · 7 months ago

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yandere Tim Drake i

this man has the sluttiest undercut I've ever seen - also, this is shit, but you pretend to love it, okay? Okay.

dc masterlist

Thinking about Tim Drake, who, in all his time as Red Robin, has never once caught a break.

He's always busy, always out on patrol, busting drug rings or trafficking schemes, always locked up in a dark, soulless room doing research for Bruce, always doing something.

So, one day, when he finds a small slice of heaven, a refuge from the never ending list of responsibilities he has to see to, he's sure to grab it with both hands and keep it close to his chest.

He, somewhat guiltily, doesn't tell anyone about it. It feels like something just for him - a space for him to relax, where he doesn't have to pretend he has his whole life together.

Maybe it's a dusty old library hidden between the high-rises of Gotham Central, maybe it's a dingy cybercafe he stumbled upon after a long night of patrol. Or perhaps it's not even a physical place - maybe it's an online forum or group chat of some kind.

No matter what it might've been, it had grown to be a safe haven. And it only becomes better when, one stupidly sweltering summer afternoon, you slip in.

Sweet, oblivious you.

God, he loved you. You were everything he wanted to be. Free of all worry and hardship, at least in his eyes. You were innocent and so sickly sweet. He loved everything about you. From the way your eyes sparkled when you got excited, and the animated way you spoke, using your hands to make wide, sweeping gestures, to the tired scowl that pinched your mouth and brow after a long day.

The clothes you wore, the way you smelled, the beautiful, soft glow of your skin, he loved it all.

****

He loved you.

Only, you didn't exactly know he existed. And he never actually, you know, spoke to you. But that didn't matter! No, not at all, not when he had enough love for the both of you.

He knew everything about you.

Where you lived, how old you were, your likes and dislikes, every dirty little secret you thought you could hide away, things you thought were kept concealed in the corners of your mind.

He knew, and he loved you regardless. Not in spite of them, but rather, because of them. He loved that you were so flawed, so imperfect, and yet still so innocent to your core. He felt the deep seated need to keep you that way, to maintain that innocence and shield it from the horrors of Gotham, of the world.

That was why he watched over you, every hour of every day.

Did he think it was wrong, or creepy? Yeah, a bit, but he didn't really care to change. How bad could his actions really be, if they were keeping you safe?

So what if hacking all your devices and bugging your house wasn't legal? He was a vigilante, he was just doing his job. So what if he put a tracker in every pair of shoes you owned? He just needed to keep track of your movements, make sure you weren't wandering off anywhere too dangerous.

More than a few times, he'd followed you at night, watching from above as you ambled through the streets of Gotham, completely oblivious to how vulnerable you were. Really, how did you manage to survive this long without him watching over you? Do you even know how many robberies and assaults he'd saved you from before they'd happened?

He held off on actually speaking to you, as Tim Drake or Red Robin. Maybe it was nerves, or fear, or something beyond the words he had to communicate what he felt for you. Regardless, he was content watching you from the side lines.

For now.

****

After a while of watching from a distance, he'd decided he needed a bit more than just the sight of you. That's how he ended up donning his Red Robin costume and letting himself into your apartment one night to watch over you as you slept.

It had quickly become an admittedly bad habit, one that he didn't bother trying to correct.

Watching you calmed something within him, something he hadn't even known was there. He'd started including your small apartment on his patrols, at least three times a week, and it's become the highlight of his day.

Then, one day, months after this little song and game of his started, he decided enough was enough. Why was he being so weird and pathetic about it? He was a hero. He was smart, and attractive (or at least, that's what his mother used to say), and he was rich. He was the whole package. What more could someone ask for?

So, he bit the bullet and talked to you. Or, he would have, if you'd actually, you know, shown up. But you didn't. And that was fine! Totally, 100% fine! It wasn't like he felt disappointed or angry or anything. He'd just try again another time.

Only... in the months that he'd known you, his patience had dwindled to a near trickle, and he realised he couldn't wait. And so, he made probably the dumbest, most rookie mistake of his vigilante career.

He snuck into your apartment and, naturally, as one does, revealed himself to you. In full costume, mask and all. Well, the mask had come off about ten minutes into his fanatical rant, but-

Wait, why were you looking at him like that?

No, no, don't- don't back away. Hey, why were you reaching for your phone? Who were you calling?

The police? No, no, no, no, no- This isn't how it was supposed to go, damnit!

****

Now, watching you sleep in his bed, so cosy and soft, as if you belonged there (you did belong there), he chides himself for not doing this sooner.

What was he so scared of? Sure, you'd seemed a bit overwhelmed when he'd dropped onto your balcony and stepped into your apartment, but it was probably just sheer joy that had you screaming like that.

And, well, sure, you'd rambled on about him watching you for months prior - which he had - but for you to call it 'stalking' seemed like a bit of an over exaggeration.

Despite all that, he knew - knew - that you'd be so happy when you woke up. As happy as you made him. Because despite everything going on in his life - his struggles as Robin, with Batman and Damian, with Stephanie and Connor, and leading the Young Justice team - despite all that, he had you.

And just the thought of you alone brightened his day.

Now? Having you here, with him, for the foreseeable future?

That alone made whatever anger or fear you may have towards him worth it.

And, you know, they did say love blinds people. So maybe you were right about all that (Doubtful. He was smart. He was also right about all this).

But it didn't really matter. Not now, not when you were finally his.

#yandere #dark content #female reader #dc #tim drake #red robin #yandere tim drake #yandere red robin #tim drake x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #yandere red robin x reader #stalker

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soo0hee · 3 months ago

Text

Flu & Fluff

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x Reader

Summary — Arriving home to pick something up, Jeonghan finds a good reson to just stay home with his angel.

Genre — fluff, established relationship, idol!au

Warnings — none

Word Count — 0.7k

Rating — sfw

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

When Jeonghan set foot into the apartment he shared with you, he was startled quite a bit. It was around midday and he only came home already because he had forgotten something on the kitchen table he was not coming to get from home.

It wasn't the cup still half filled with your favorite tea that was still placed on the counter or the plate next to it. It wasn't even the throw blanket that was bundled together from your movie night yesterday. No, it was your jacket being thrown carelessly over the back of the couch together with the bag you use to go do work with.

Were you home already? If so, then why?

It was barely even 1pm and he knew that it was far from the time you usually got home so to say he was confused wouldn't be a lie.

"Angel? Are you home?" he called out into the silent apartment but was only greeted by the disgruntled meow of your cat Loki who was not at all impressed at the prospect of having his sleep disturbed.

Loki stretched thoroughly before winding himself around Jeonghans legs; the man frowning at the fur left behind on fabric of his pants. "Where's your momma, hm? Is she here?"

He received another meow, this time softer while enjoying the pets he got before sauntering away with his tail held high as he vanished in the gap the door to the bedroom was left open. He followed the cat and flinched almost when the sound of coughing cut through the silence of the apartment.

Jeonghan threw his hand over his chest where his heart felt like it had stopped beating in shock. Letting out a curse he continued into the bedroom where he stopped in his tracks as he processed the sight that greeted him.

Sniffling and buried underneath the blankets was you, trying to get some air into your lungs between coughing and a stuffed nose while also getting some shut eye. If that and the cup with chamomile tea wasn't a dead give away to what was wrong, then

"Aigoo-ya," he coed at you. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick, pabo?"

You grumbled, not having realized you were being talked to. The idol smiled and came closer. Shrugging his shoes off he crawled onto the bed and underneath the blanket. Unconsciously you clung to your boyfriends body, searching for the comfort he brought you every time without fail.

"Hannie?" you mumbled out deliriously.

Jeonghan had immediately noticed the immense head coming from your body, indicating the fever you seemed to have.

"Yes angel, I'm home. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus." You grimaced slightly at the tension behind your forehead before Iooking up at the man beside you. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you by at the company?"

"I forgot something in the kitchen,"

"The lyric sheets?"

"Exactly those. Now," he started with a pout and his hand pressed to your forehead do check your temperature. Definitly a fever. "Care do tell my why you didn't call me and told me you weren't feeling well?"

You shrugged and answered while coughing. "The boys need you!"

"Right now, I think you need me more, don't you think?"

Jeonghan reached into his jeans pocket for his phone, typing in a message for the group chat.

Knowing what he was doing you too, reached weakly for the device only to have him hold it out of your reach.

"No, you can't just stay home! They-"

"-can record my vocals in a few days too! We have enough time until the comeback so don't worry, just let me take care of you for a while.”

You gave up, knowing very well that there was no way to win against the older of the famous evil twins. "Fine, but-“

"No buts." A soft kiss was pressed to your head. "Just let me love you."

Falling back asleep you hummed a quiet,"love ya too..."

#k labels #k vanity #k-library #seventeen #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan imagines #jeonghan imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen imagines #divider by saradika

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azzibuckets · 5 months ago

Text

anything you want [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: fluffy blurb based off this moment last year when paige dressed azzi in her entire outfit at the sza concert then lent her her jacket

a/n: dedicated to @clairosrealwife for messaging me on 4 different places asking for a new fic like the overbearing annoying ass she is

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

“Yikes.”

Paige, Jana, and Aaliyah peered through the doorway of Azzi’s room, all exchanging glances at the sight before them. Azzi was slumped on the floor, face down in a pile of clothes while shirts and sweaters were strewn all over her bed, furniture, and closet.

They’d been eating snacks in the kitchen before muffed groans had pierced the peaceful silence of the dorm. Azzi had been in a mood all day, and no one on the team dared to bother her when she was pissed off. But it was becoming hard to enjoy their Lays when Azzi was huffing and storming around in the other room, so they made a mutual agreement to approach the girl together by having strength in numbers.

“Azzarae,” Aaliyah said gently, always having a soft spot for her younger roommate. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find anything cute to wear for the concert,” Azzi groaned. “This is literally the worst day of my life. I failed my exam in accounting this morning and then I got a smoothie to console myself but then I fucking spilled the entire thing-,”

Paige glared at her teammates as they slowly started to creep away from the door. “Your girlfriend, your problem,” Aaliyah mouthed before she and Jana took off, giggling as they returned back to their snacks.

Fatties, Paige thought bitterly to herself before entering the room and shutting the door. “You know the entire team is scared of you whenever you’re mad?”

A small smirk slid its way onto Azzi’s face. “I know. They leave me alone for once. I get peace and quiet.”

Paige rolled her eyes fondly. She grabbed Azzi’s hand and folded it between hers, rubbing soothing circles across Azzi’s palm with her thumbs. “I got some new shit in the mail a few days ago. Come over and try them on?”

Azzi nodded gratefully. On their way out, Aaliyah and Jana were still laughing like hyenas, fingers flying across their screens as they texted the group chat about how they’d left Paige to her own devices. But as soon as Azzi sent them a withering stare, they both immediately shut up. “You’re such a pussy,” Jana whispered to Aaliyah. “You’re literally older than her.” Without looking up from her phone, Aaliyah jabbed Jana in the stomach.

Azzi made herself comfortable on Paige’s bed as the older girl started rummaging through some boxes in her closet. “Here.” Paige tossed a pile of plastic wrapped packages at Azzi.

Azzi’s hands hovered over the clothes. “You sure? You haven’t even gotten the chance to wear them yourself yet.”

Paige leaned down and pressed a kiss to Azzi’s neck, letting her lips linger on the sensitive pulse point that she knew made Azzi shudder. “Stop being so unselfish all the time,” she murmured, “or I’m gonna start making out with you and we’ll never make it to the concert.”

A rosy blush fell over Azzi’s cheeks. “That doesn’t sound half bad,” she admitted, tucking an unruly strand of blonde hair behind her girlfriend’s ear.

Paige playfully bit down on Azzi’s shoulder, earning a squeal from the dark haired girl. Smirking, she drew back and punched Azzi’s shoulder. “Try the clothes on, dumbass.”

“A full Supreme outfit outfit? Really?” Azzi wrinkled her nose in the mirror as she experimented with her shirt, tucking it in and scrunching up one side to see what would look best.

“It’s gonna be cold.” Paige tossed her a puffer vest. “This would go nice with the sweats.”

Azzi shrugged on the puffer vest. Tilting her head thoughtfully in the mirror, she rolled her shirt up to above her belly button, making it look like a cropped top. “Much better.”

“You tryna make people faint?” Paige complained, eyes glued to the shiny piercing on Azzi’s stomach.

Azzi grinned, hand gesturing across her body. “You like it?”

“You know I think you look good in everything.” Paige approached Azzi from behind, hands sneakily sliding under the vest to make contact with Azzi’s bare abdomen. Paige savored the way Azzi’s muscles contracted at her touch. “But you look better in this than I would, trust.” She nestled her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, her gaze meeting brown doe eyes in the mirror. “You look so pretty, baby.”

Azzi turned and planted a kiss on Paige’s cheek. “Wanna match? You can wear your other Supreme shirt?” She smiled at Paige, that goddamn smile reserved solely for the person she loved most in the world, and Paige had seen that smile and that dimple almost every day for six years now, but she swore her knees still went weak at the sight.

Paige’s thumb brushed the expanse of Azzi’s skin, dipping just below the waistline of her pants in a slow circle. “Anything you want.”

*********

“You know I can walk just fine by myself?”

Paige’s hands ghosted Azzi’s waist for the hundredth time that night. “I know.”

Thankful that Paige was behind her and couldn’t see her face, Azzi smiled. She would never admit it, but she loved whenever Paige got unnecessarily protective whenever they were in public, guiding her through crowds with a hand firmly planted on the small of her back. Their relationship was private to the point where they could never kiss or show affection in front of other people, but this was one subtle way Paige reminded Azzi of how much she loved her, and Azzi appreciated it.

“You’re shivering.” Azzi hadn’t even noticed how cold she was until Paige pointed it out, but suddenly she could feel the late night chill in her bones despite the body heat radiating from the crowd pressed against them.

“I’m fine,” Azzi brushed her off. “I’ll go buy a hot chocolate or something later.”

“You’re gonna get sick,” Paige murmured, hand reaching out to steady Azzi as she zipped up her girlfriend’s puffer.

“Can you guys stop being cute for once?” Aubrey grumbled from behind them.

Both of them ignored her.

When she noticed how Azzi was still trying to rub her hands together for warmth, Paige immediately took off her jacket and pushed it into Azzi’s hands.

“No,” Azzi insisted, trying to give the jacket back. “You’re literally in only a shirt Paige.”

“Well, I’m not cold at all,” Paige said stubbornly, refusing to accept the jacket. “Are you forgetting I grew up in Minnesota?”

“I’m not cold anymore,” Azzi lied.

Paige cocked an eyebrow. “So your lips aren’t trembling?”

Sighing in defeat, Azzi hesitated before slipping on the black coat over her puffer. Paige smirked, adjusting the collar so that it sat comfortably on Azzi’s shoulders. “Better?” she asked softly.

Azzi nodded, glancing around before bringing Paige’s hand to her mouth and pressing a fleeting kiss to her knuckles. “If you start getting cold I’m taking this jacket off,” she warned.

“I’m actually pretty warm,” Paige said breezily. “But I wouldn’t mind some extra body heat, if you know what I mean,” she said with an exaggerated wink.

Azzi rolled her eyes, biting back a smile as she huddled closer to her girlfriend, pressing her entire body against the blonde’s. Her fingers fumbled around before finding Paige’s hand and tangling them together.

“See? Perfect.”

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconnwbb #pazzi #uconn wbb #wcbb #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #fluff #blurb #fic

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sscieloz · 23 days ago

Text

Our messy lives

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: Aespa is now one of the most successful bands of the country. You refuse to let them go, but it’s time to move on with your life.

Warnings: lots of plot, lots of lore and a little bit of smut as alwaysss babies. band aespa. only a tiny bit of angst don’t worry it’s barely there. angsty ig.

Word count: 8.3k

Notes: I’m being very serious when i say i hated this. omg it’s so bad I might delete it and change everything.HOWEVER now I’ll eat the yummy dinner nana made me and chill under the covers. Then we’ll see.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

It was no surprise that Aespa’s success erupted quickly. After winning The Box’s contest, not only were the girls offered a contract with SM Music Ent.— the country’s #1 music company, but they’ve also been labeled as South Korea’s rising superstars. Their faces were all over stores, brands, and buildings. Fooling around after perfomances wasn’t even an option anymore, with the crowd that had started following their every step.

Aespa’s first album, Whiplash was a true hit; people loved the group’s authenticity, their enthusiastic lyrics, and self-produced songs. They embraced the girls’ journey and their desire to make music despite the outcome or the feedback. More than that: the public loved how brutally honest they were, whether it was in interviews, public appearances or through the melody that now echoed through every device in the country.

Two years and 2 albums went by, and the band’s success only grew. They won Rookie Group of the Year and have only been escalating ever since. Such success has made them cocky, as self-entitled as they were talented.

And talent was not something they lacked by any means.

“Excuse me, Aespa sunbaenim…” Karina, Minjeong, Aeri and Ningning all turn their heads at the same time to look at the tanned girl who stands awkwardly by the door. She bows extensively, with a bright smile adorning her face before adding. “I’m looking for Y/n? She told me to wait for her here.”

With kind, almond eyes and a little mole under her right eye, Saerom’s inviting nature is unmistakable. Although the girls are nearly sure they’d be able to recognize her without even looking at her, anyway.

They despise her.

“Y/n?” Minjeong is the first to ask, looking around with a frown. Her theatric movements are filled with mockery, but Saerom pays her no mind. If anything, she simply waits for her answer, as if the girls weren’t being anything but hostile to her. “Do you see her anywhere? News—”

“She went to the parking lot to take a private call.” Karina’s hand muffles Minjeong’s mouth, preventing the blonde from giving the poor girl a nasty response. “She told us to warn you about the change of plans. You should meet her there, instead.”

Saerom’s face lights up at the leader’s response, moving her arms around in awkward motions. Not having to deal with Minjeong is a relief— the blonde is so rude all the time, with her micro-aggressions hidden behind her bored expressions.

“I’ll wait for Y/n-ssi there, then.” Saerom bows to the girls, with a firm grip on the door handle. “Thank you for the message, sunbaenim.”

Ningning waits for Saerom to leave before clicking her tongue.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t rain, otherwise this poor girl will be sick.” She turns to Minjeong and to Karina, then, her tone patronizing even though she giggles. “You’re so mean, both of you.”

“I’m not mean!” Minjeong complains, caressing Giselle’s arms when the rapper hugs her from behind. “Those are private quarters. Y/n shouldn’t have sent her little plaything here.”

Ever since The Box, you and Saerom have developed a tight-knit friendship. The idol had reached out to you a few days after the festival, inviting you out for a walk in the park. You accepted the invite, thinking she’d ask for you to become her band’s fansite or something similar, but Saerom had surprised you— as always. The two of you ended up chatting for hours, and you found yourself sharing every single one of your life’s events to her: it was just so new and refreshing, to talk about yourself for once. Not mentioning Karina, Ningning, and Giselle felt strange somehow, but it was also freeing to be noticed, seen by someone like Saerom saw you. Her genuine interest left you in awe, and it rebuilt your self-esteem in ways you did not even know you needed.

Saerom understood you in more ways than one: despite your different lifestyles, you shared the same insecurities and uncertainties. Saerom, not knowing if her company would keep supporting their group or if she should just give up on the dream she worked so hard for, and yourself, who still felt lost and had no idea of what life would be like, once you were done with university.

The two of you were so different, yet so alike: you were lousy, stubborn, and defiant, while Saerom was the purest, kindest human being on earth. She inspired you to be a better person every day, and not once did she disregard your feelings or try to change your personality. If anything, the thing you loved the most was to hear her melodious laugh, whenever you made a mean, whacky comment without much further thinking. You were more than glad to have her in your life. She was an escape from your chaotic routine, someone you held close to your heart.

So it was only natural you’d answer her call, even if you were in the middle of the crowd, recording Aespa’s performance, long after her conversation with the girls.

“Hi, Y/n.” The voice on the other line sounded strained, but you’d recognize Saerom’s angelic tone regardless of the setbacks. “Are you going to take much longer to get here? It’s pouring, and I’ll have to go get ready for my group’s recording soon.”

She’s always considerate of your feelings even though you have no idea of what she’s talking about. It’s a miracle you’ve managed to understand her words alone, given your proximity to the stage. Winter’s vibrant bass solo isn’t of much help either, and you bend your body forward to protect your ears from the noise in hopes it’d help you focus more on Saerom.

Although you swear the music gets louder as soon as you take your eyes off the four girls on stage.

“Saerom unnie? What are you talking about?” You tap your right ear, but it does nothing to ease the energetic chorus of Kill it, Aespa’s latest single.

Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning are currently performing their third song of their setlist, and you’ve managed to get pretty good recordings from the previous nights, so you allow yourself to redirect your focus to your friend, who awaits on the other side of the line.

“I’m waiting for you as we planned, remember? Karina sunbaenim told me you’d be in the parking lot, so I’m here. Are you at the show? It’s too noisy, I can barely hear you.” Poor Saerom is as lost as you, and the thought of her waiting for you under pouring rain is enough for your heart to shrink with unease.

“Right, of course. Can’t believe I forgot about that. I’m so sorry, Saesae. Give me 5 minutes and I’ll meet you there, ok? I’m on my way right now.”

“Sweet!”

You’re quick to collect your camera set up, hurrying to not let your friend wait any longer. The song’s nearly over anyway, but Aespa’s repertoire for the night would still linger for at least another hour— not that you minded. You were writhing with annoyance. It was hard to grasp that Karina, out of all of the girls, would act this childishly towards Saerom.

Sure, the girls have always been crystal clear regarding their feelings about the fellow idol, but you’d never imagine Karina would send your friend to wait for you alone, under pouring rain. That was typical of Minjeong— perhaps even something expected of Ning or Giselle, but you thought better of the band’s leader.

Now you had to miss nearly half of their performance, and it was all their fault.

Those girls kept testing out your nerves.

Four pairs of eyes attentively watch you make your way over the crowd. Their stares burn on your back, yet you refuse to give in. You don’t turn to get a hold of their expressions; you’ve been around long enough to know exactly how they react when something pisses them off.

Giselle, Karina, Ningning, and Minjeong don’t stare at themselves in confusion, as they normally would if something was off. They know where you’re going, and the implication was clear: you had chosen that little friend of yours over them.

Rejection was not something the girls from Aespa took lightly. You’d pay for that, both of you.

—

“Hey.” Saerom looks up to you, smiling brightly despite waiting for more than an hour.

Thankfully, she was wearing a thick jacket and sat on a bench, protected from the rain that refused to fade.

Occupying the seat next to her, you tell her sincerely, “Sorry to leave you waiting for so long.”

The umbrella you’ve gotten for her is placed on your feet, and you turn to face her completely. She looks comfortable, pretty as ever despite the weather and the shitty circumstances you had submitted her under. Saerom was a smart girl, and had probably already figured the girls told her a white lie to get rid of her presence quickly.

Despite that, your lips were sealed. You’d be caught dead before blaming Aeri, Minjeong, Karina, or Ningning, a fact they were blissfully aware. It’s why they were so confident on messing with Saerom, after all.

“They didn’t even tell you about me, did they?” Is all she asks, brushing off your apologies with a faint shrug.

Saerom brings her legs close to her chest, hugging her shoulders and staring at you attentively. A deep sigh leaves her chest after you shake your head. She thinks you’re too good for the girls. It’s an argument you’ve gone through lots of times, by now.

But you’re not. Saerom should have noticed that, by now. You’re just as rotten.

Tenderness clouds her mind, making her unable to notice any of your flaws.

It was no wonder there was only one other band the girls were friends with. Although Saerom was frequently picked on and scrutinized by the members simply for being your friend, the girls’ behavior didn’t change much when interacting with other idols. The industry was tough and demanding, of course, but they managed to fit right in.

You try to lighten up the subject, brushing Saerom’s black hair from her face. “Yeah, I’m really sorry for that. How can I make it up to you? You could sleep over, so we’ll catch up more.” Your words are sincere. Even though Fromis9’s schedule is much less demanding than Aespa’s, you’re still unable to see her as much as you wish to. The girls keep you busy 24/7, so full of tasks and demands you barely have enough time for other things. “I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve hung out.”

“It’s alright, Y/nnie.” Saerom holds you close, hugging you with a strength that reminds you once again of how strong she is, despite her small frame. “I just wanted to check in on you. How are you doing? You barely talk about yourself, and the girls make sure to have you all to themselves, as always.”

Bitterness drips from her last words, and you ignore rather easily. You love your friend, and you’re grateful to have her in your life, but she’ll always come second to Karina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Ningning. It’s the natural order of things.

Even if your relationship is a bit blurry, at the moment.

Opening up is still something hard for you, despite Saerom being nothing but a supportive, attentive friend.

“I’m okay, really.” The words come out of your mouth automatically, and you’re met with a knowing look from Saerom. “I swear! I am. The routine is kicking, of course, but I’m pushing through.”

It’s been harder to balance keeping up with the band and your studies at university, now that it was your last semester, but you were making it work. You’ve always managed to do both, somehow, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Although you were starting to feel the exhaustion hit, now that promotion season was starting. Shootings were always done early, and you often had to stay up until late hours of the night completing the missing assignments and mandatory work your past self had pushed to be done when you were close to graduating.

Saerom knows better. She’s always been able to read you so easily. Leaning forward, she caresses your cheek with a tenderness you’ve only known through her soft, loving touches.

“I know you can handle it. You’re a tough girl.” She murmurs, so close you can’t focus on anything but her rosy lips, and the way they glisten from her signature lip gloss. “I just wish you’d tell me more of what’s going through your mind.”

Her hot breath is a warm welcome on the cold, rainy night, and you wonder if she’d taste like strawberries; her favorite fruit. Sweet Saerom, who takes such good care of you and lives her life in such a light, carefree way…

The loud ringing of your phone prevents you from finding it out. It startles both of you, and you jump in your seats. Even though you’re irritated for having the moment ruined, the two of you can’t help but laugh about how easy it is to scare Saerom.

A tired sigh leaves your chest as you show her Ningning’s name on the ID call. You deny the call, but her name shows up again within seconds, shining just as brightly as before. “It’s Ning, I—”

“… Have to go.” Saerom finishes your sentence, nodding with a bit of resentment. She gets up before you say anything else, standing out her hand so you’d do the same. “I know how impatient they are, so you shouldn’t piss them off. But you owe me one for making me wait, now. How about a date? This way we’ll have plenty of time to keep up with each other.”

She has her finger pointed out at you, but you know she’s only joking. Still, you wrap your arms around her small waist and nod, desperate to make it up to your friend.

“It’s settled, then. Text me the details?” You ask, voice muffled as you rest your face on the crook of her neck, safely protected from the cold by her thick hoodie.

“Sure, baby. We can meet up at that cafeteria you like, how about that?” Saerom suggests, running her long nails through your scalp in a soothing manner.

Silently reassuring you she wasn’t annoyed or irritated by their lack of time at the moment, as she knew you’d be upset about it later.

You don’t want to let her go, but Saerom also has a performance of her own to get ready for, and you’ve wasted too much of her time by leaving her waiting. Reluctantly, you let go of her as she nods, stepping aside so you’d walk together toward the entrance of the arena. She clings to your arm, and you wonder if she’s not uncomfortable with her skirt on such a freezing night.

It’s worth it: she looks like every bit of the princess she is, in her laid-back outfit.

“Bye, Y/n.” When the two of you reach your parting point, Saerom’s small hands cup your face just as she’d done before. Without rushing, she gives each of your cheeks a hot, longing kiss before turning away and hurrying to her group’s backstage room. “I’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, Saerom unnie!” You scream back, watching as she runs and laughs freely on the opposite end of the corridor.

Now, it was time to confront the four devilish women you were, unfortunately, so damn attracted to. With a sigh, you make your way to their room, knowing they’ll be waiting.

They’re always waiting for you, whether they admit it or not.

—

“Oh, so you do know your way back.” Minjeong’s voice is full of disappointment as you walk through the door, delicately making your way inside the room with hopes of going unnoticed. “What a shame.”

As if that has ever been a possibility.

“Where have you been, Y/n?” Ningning demands to know, looking down on you with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Three other pairs of eyes are just as attentive to your answer, although they don’t stop changing and taking off their heavy makeup to actively do so. The girls are fuming— you’ve known them for long enough to gather said knowledge in the subtle way they spend too much time meticulously folding their clothes and walking around, all while making sure to send you hard, jugful stares.

“Where have I been?” You take a deep sigh, mirroring the maknae’s pose in hopes of calming yourself before answering. “I went to the parking lot to meet up with Saerom, because I’ve apparently told her to wait for me there.”

There’s something in Yizhuo’s tone: so sharp and patronizing, that ignites a livid fire inside your chest. She’s such a sob, acting as if you had done something so utterly wrong. Always so demanding.

The silence that follows your brief accusation is unnerving. You want to shake each of them, annoyed both for what they did to your friend, and because they made you miss their show by leaving earlier than expected.

Giselle sighs, taking off her brown extensions as she brushes you off. “No one other than the staff is allowed inside. We didn’t even kick her out, Y/n. Consider that a favor.”

Your mouth opens in shock upon hearing the bassist’s words. The worst part was that they meant every preposterous thing they say. With a frustrated sigh, you search for something to occupy your hands with so you won’t scratch the members’ eyes out from their faces like you certainly want to.

You turn your back to them, looking for something. For a distraction, anything to keep your mind off how much you wanted to make them pay for making Saerom upset.

After not finding anything in the mess they always make backstage, you turn around and shove your finger in Minjeong’s face. “You told Karina to say it, didn’t you? You lousy—”

The blonde girl opens a malicious smile, surprisingly calm and happy to have you on the verge of an anger meltdown. She shakes her head, gesturing to Karina instead.

“Oh no, Y/nnie.” Winter laughs, delighted by your nervousness. If she had to be honest, you did look hot like this: brows furrowed and muscles all tensed up. Minejong licks her lips, imagining how delicious it would be to drink from your cunt until you were sobbing, begging for a release that wouldn’t come anytime soon. “Karina unnie took care of it all by herself.”

Surely you’d forget about your little friend, by then.

Karina rolls her eyes when you finally approach her, muttering about how much of a drama queen both you and Minjeong are. She has her legs hanging comfortably on top of the desk and pays you no mind, too busy with watching something on her stupid phone.

“Did you?” You ask, not yet daring to grab her phone and throw it against the wall like you so desperately wanted to. Even if anger clouded your mind, you know Jimin wouldn’t let that slide. “The poor girl was out there freezing to death, Jimin. Why the fuck did you tell her—”

“You’re lacking.” Is all that she tells you, still not looking up. “You left in the middle of our show to go look for your little friend.”

Ningning comes out of the bathroom, attentive to the tension that hasn’t left the room ever since you arrived. “You’ve skipped so many events lately. And you’re barely taking any solo pics of any of us.” She points it out, earning a nod from Giselle.

“Recording us is one of the few things you’re able to do properly,” Minjeong adds, twisting her tongue. “And now your useless self isn’t even doing that anymore. God, you piss me off, Y/n.”

Saerom’s mention always brings out the worst of the girls, but Winter is the most affected by the fact that your attention is not solely on them anymore.

Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minejong are greedy, selfish, so damn full of themselves. But most importantly, they refuse to share. Especially when it came to you. It doesn’t matter how much you fight or argue, things worked simply: you were theirs just as much as they were yours.

And the Aespa girls didn’t allow outsiders to play with their possessions. No matter how foolishly you might think so, the implication is clear— in the end, you’d always answer to them.

“You have managers to handle your career.” You remind them, sighing deeply. “As well as other groupies to do all of your media work. I’m not paid to be your photographer or whatever. Actually!” Hitting your palms on the big table the girls were sitting around comfortably, you add. “I’m not being fucking paid at all. I’m under no obligation to indulge your demands.”

The last sentence seems to hurt the band’s maknae. Ningning presses a hand to her heart, terrified at the possibility of you not indulging their every will anymore.

“This fucking girl, Y/n. Saerom.” Yizuho’s pronounces her name as if it’s a plague. “S-She’s clouded your mind. What else has she told you? She’s such a fucking liar.”

“No, Ningie.” Minjeong corrects her friend, patting Ningning’s hair affectionately. Although her eyes are solely on you, as poisonous as the vicious smile lingering on her face. “Saerom is just a useless piece of sh—”

Minjeong has sharp reflexes. Before you even think of a reaction, Giselle’s grip prevents you from moving, somehow making you even angrier with her hot, minty breath on the back of her neck.

“She cares about me! Unlike you! You fuck ass selfish whores.” You scream, kicking and pushing yourself against Aeri to let you go. It’s useless, but at least her muscles tense up with the effort.

Karina frowns at the words you shout so vividly. At first, she didn’t think much of your friendship with the girl from that small group— what was its name again? Forms? Formis? It doesn’t matter. But then, you started to spend more time on your phone, which was something you never did whenever they were in your company. You missed a few of their rehearsals, and would sometimes show up late or leave earlier because of university, as you claimed.

Which was bullshit. You’ve never let anything come in the way of being with the band before, even when they were just four broke girls with nothing but their love for music. There was no justification for you to do so now.

Your new rebellious behavior certainly had to do with this girl, Saerom, and her bad influence. She’s certainly corrupting you, filling your pretty little head with sweet words and blunt lies.

Karina would end her before letting such a thing happen.

With a subtle touch, the leader signals to Giselle to let you go. The Japanese girl promptly does so: it’s been a few minutes, and your muscles were too fatigued to keep fighting her grip. Although her big hands stay locked on your hips, making sure you’re trapped in her lap.

Not that you mind.

“Saerom is a bad influence on you,” Karina says, after a few minutes of watching your chest’s rapid movements, as you try to gather your breaths. She’s pleased to notice you’re still wearing the golden necklace she gave you, with an A shining in bright gold. “You should stop seeing her altogether.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you don’t even fight the urge to laugh at Karina’s demands. “Do you hear how insane you sound?” You only realize they’re all serious when no one joins you in the laughter. “Oh my fucking God. Saerom is the only sane person here! I won’t stop being friends with her just because you fucking want me to.”

“Brat,” Minjeong mutters, narrowing her eyes at you. You’re ready to start screaming once again, but Karina beats you to it.

The leader taps on the table rather impatiently, voice low and husky. “She has to go, Y/n. Minjeong’s right. Stop giving us such a headache and do as you’re told.”

It’s absolutely infuriating, how full of themselves the girls are. How can Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning demand anything from you after so many years of blind dedication? You don’t owe them anything, yet they treat you like a rebellious child.

They’ve always driven you mad mad. Being in the girls’ presence meant you were always blushing and acting like an impulsive idiot with as much a subtle glance thrown at you. You’d do anything for it, without asking anything back. For them.

But as you stare at the four girls, the only thing you feel is an anger that settles deep inside your bones. It makes you want to flip the big table they’re sitting around and throw everything they own on the walls.

“I’ve sacrificed so many important events over the past years just to be by your fucking side,” You tell the four pairs of eyes that watch you, brushing your hands on your face. The night had been tiring, and your adrenaline hush was finally fading. “I had to reschedule my wisdom tooth removal three times to attend your shootings and music bank stages. I’ve missed family gatherings and birthdays to be with you. I’m fucking graduating next month, a semester later than expected. My parents are so fucking pissed because of that. Did any of you even know?” The silence is enough of an answer. Not that you even had to ask. “Of course you don’t. You don’t fucking care about anything but yourselves.”

You’ve abdicated so much just to pay Karina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Giselle your endless support. It doesn’t matter if they disagree with your current decisions, you’re under no obligation to follow their expectations nor do everything they wanted you to.

But it seems they’ve become forgetful of that.

“Let me go, Aeri.” You tell the girl, squirming on her lap. When her hands don’t move, you scream. “I said let me go!”

You’re angry at them. For being such possessive assholes. For taking so much while giving so little. For so many things you don’t even know how to express properly.

None of the four girls say anything as you leave. Not even after you brush past them and close the door with a loud noise.

They hate to be wrong, all of them. So they holdonto their pride for a little longer. Surely you’d come back for them soon. You couldn’t stand being apart for too long, they were sure of it.

—

Being bossy is one of your many traits. You’ve always been spoiled rotten: being the only girl born in three generations into a family who loves and supports you in all of your choices ensured you that, even if you were met with some resistance at first, it didn’t take much convincing for all of your wishes to be granted. You’d only have to battle your lashes and shed a few tears and it was yours, no matter how stupid it was.

It’s only natural you’d live up to your stubbornness.

Sure, you still attended the band’s events, recording and providing content as you’ve always done, but things were somehow different, now: it was as though there was a thick wall separating you. The warmth you shared with Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning was long gone. You weren’t any different from their other staff, with the short, straightforward answers you’d give to their questions, and they despised it. They wanted your loud, fiery self back. Guilt was eating the girls alive.

So they silently decide that just this time, you’d win.

This time only.

The band’s schedule for the month was packed, but Giselle had managed to cancel a few events so you could finally talk. The Japanese girl isn’t as patient as Karina or adorable as Ningning, but knows you well enough to get your head in the right senses.

When Aeri opens the door to your favorite cafe— the one furthest from your main campus, although still on university grounds, the last thing she expects is for you to have company.

She should’ve thought better. Of course, you’d have that nugu failure of an idol up in your ass. It’s like the two of you are joined at the hip now, anyway.

Giselle’s entire body feels hot, and she’s absolutely fuming. No matter how many deep breaths she takes, nothing makes her less livid as she watches you lean onto Saerom’s touch, laughing so freely with shimmery eyes directed at that useless girl.

This cafe was something like a sanctuary to you. There was something peaceful in the lo-fi beats that echoed through the place, and you’ve lost count of the times you spent hours lost in thought, wondering about the customers' backstories and their orders. You were a regular, and Giselle recalls picking you up nearby a few times.

You look so at ease, eyes shining brightly as you laugh at something Saerom says, clinging onto the idol’s arm. The sight of you, so carefree and happy with someone that isn’t her, Karina, Minejong or Ning is enough for Giselle’s chest to tighten, hands closing onto fists. Her hatred for Fromis’ leader only grows. Hates how she makes you so at ease, how she takes up so much of your time.

Aespa has grown, now— in both popularity and influence. They’re famous and even though they aren’t yet rich, they have much more money than needed. Saerom’s nothing compared to them. Not as beautiful, not as talented, and certainly not as successful. She’s nothing more than a failure, a pathetic girl from a small company who doesn’t give a shit about her group.

So what did she do to have your uttermost attention? Why do you look at her with such adoration, such love? It’s nearly the same way you look at herself, Karina, Winter, and Ningning.

And that can’t happen. You’re theirs; their groupie, their first, most dedicated fan. They’ll be dammed before they have to share you with anyone else.

Saerom pales as soon as she spots Giselle’s confident steps, and she opens her mouth to warn you. The words die on her lips as the fellow idol beats her to it; Before they can even think, Giselle’s in front of you, bracing her arms in front of her chest with a displeased look.

“Look at who we have here.” She twists her mouth in disgust, eyes darting from you to Saerom, who retreats her arm from your chair and goes rigid. “The lovebirds. For someone who claims to be so busy, you sure have a lot of fucking free time for Saerom, don’t you think, Y/n?”

Unlike the poor idol, who trembles under Giselle’s snobbish gaze and seems ready to leave at any cue, you roll your eyes at the guitarist. She doesn’t intimidate you at all, not with the way her hands rest tightly on her hips and the little angry pout in her mouth.

Giselle’ attractive, even more so when she’s being an asshole. Still, her self-entitlement pisses you off more than anything. She thinks she can control you; who you hang out with, and what you do.

Ignoring her pettiness, you gesture to your laptop, to the small journal, and to your camera, all tangled on the table. “I’m studying. Saerom unnie came to help me choose a few clips for my final project.” You click your tongue, typing your password on your laptop so the screen lights up. It takes a few seconds, making it obvious it has been a while since you’ve turned the device on. “It’s due tomorrow, so… you’re kinda interrupting us, unnie. Mind coming back later? We can talk on Friday, after your MBC schedule.”

You do love to rile the girls up anyway, and Giselle falls into your traps quite easily. The only other person that beats her to it is Minjeong— the blonde nightmare.

Giselle’s fist hits the table, not aggressively enough for your stuff to fall but more than necessary to get the attention she wants, despite not you or Saerom attention’s wavering from the girl ever since she set foot in the cafe. She grabs you by the arm, then, still locking eyes with your best friend as you’re lifted from the table

“Me and Y/n are going to have a little talk, ok sunbaenim? We’ll take long, so I suggest you make your way back.” Giselle says, eyes turning darker, “Now.”

Saerom doesn’t need to be told twice. Without a word, your friend grabs her purse and stands up so quickly her chair clicks against the marble floor, sliding noisily. She hesitates, searching for any signs you need her to stay. Giselle’s intimidating, of course, but Saerom would defend you if you asked her to.

“See you later, Y/n.” Saerom murmurs, relaxing her brows after you nod, gesturing for her to go. She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, and you think she’s going to lean in and kiss you on the cheek. But Giselle’s grip on your arm is still strong, clinging onto you like you were going to run away at any second. Instead, Saerom nods to both you and Aeri. “Goodbye, Giselle sunbaenim. Have a great afternoon.”

Giselle doesn’t answer, watching as Saerom runs to the door like she’s been struck by lightning.

“You didn’t even let her breathe. Hey!” You complain, being ushered to the restroom as soon as the doorbell rings and the fellow idol is nowhere in sight. “Rude.”

A chuckle dies in your throat as soon as you’re shoved into one of the stalls rather roughly. Giselle’s hands are all over you, then: groping your breasts, your waist, your neck, and your face as she kisses you sloppily. Her fingers roam through your skin with perhaps too much pressure, so hungry and impatient.

Like her bandmates, Giselle only knows how to take. It’s one of the many things she excels on doing. Her touch is possessive and infuriating. Intoxicating.

Deliciously wrong.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke, Y/n?” She asks, gripping your jaw as she whispers into your ear. “Do you seriously think I won’t fuck up your little friend’s entire career if you piss me off with those little games of yours?”

“I’m not doing anything.” You squirm, trying to get out of her grip. The affirmation does nothing to ease her touches— she’s well aware you love playing dumb. “If you mess with Fromis’ image just because I’m friends with Saerom, Giselle, I swear I’ll post that fucking video of you—“

She silences you with another rough kiss, sick of hearing you being so protective of that pathetic girl. Her tongue forces her way onto your mouth, commanding you to open and surrender to all of her wishes.

As usual.

In a swift motion, Giselle turns you around, pressing your face against the cold walls. You feel her body heat behind you, skin nearly throbbing from how angry she is.

“Say her name one more time, Y/n and I fucking will.” She growls, gripping your wrists together so you’re unable to turn around and curse her out to her face. “Test me. Say it, now. It will be my pleasure. Our pleasure. To end her fucking career forever and have you as the one to blame.”

None of her threats are empty— you know she means it. Giselle’s only waiting for a cue, a reason to spread fake rumors and end Saerom’s career once and for all. The laughter that echoes inside the empty restroom is full of mockery, and you wish for nothing more but to turn around and land a punch to the guitarist’s face.

Only you can’t. Not with the way she’s pressing onto you, showing off her mornings spent at the gym. It’s maddening, how hot she is. Giselle’s low, husky breaths pant on the back of your shoulders, and you shudder involuntarily. There’s no way to help it: it’s been so long since she’s touched you like this. You’re both starved, desperate even if you’ll never admit it.

Although it’s easy to notice, from the way her heavy hands grope and twist every inch of skin she finds. You’re easily marked— the girls have always praised you for that. But their marks usually faded as easily as they were made.

Which doesn’t seem like the case, not when she’s biting your lips so harshly. Giselle doesn’t care if she hurts you. It’s what you deserve, after taunting them for so long.

“Fuck, Y/n…” She murmurs, squeezing your breast with her hand. The other one closes around your neck, depriving you of just enough air to make you dizzy. You roll your eyes, panting with pleasure. “You’re so pretty… I can’t wait to make you cry.”

Not at all subtle. Giselle’s message is clear: no one fucks you like I do. Like we do.

Her nails scratch your thighs, wandering dangerously close to your aching spot. You’re both ashamed and annoyed by how much her aggressiveness turns you on. Every word the Japanese girl utters from her mouth is true, you know so: her assertive, possessive traits would never fade, no matter how extreme you judged her actions, sometimes. It’s disgraceful to acknowledge that you want Giselle to ruin you, to make you cry and beg for her to take everything she wishes to and more.

Still, you’re not lost enough to step on your pride just yet.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You turn your face as Giselle pulls your head back and reaches for your lips, trying to push her away after being tugged and turned around like a doll. “Self-entitled bitch. I fucking ha—”

It’s much easier to rebel under her like this: with her taking you from behind, face is hidden by the stall’s poor lightning.

“So you’re not wet, then?” She interrupts your angry banter, smirking as her hands trail lower, unbuttoning your shorts without much care. Her touch, however, is surprisingly soft, thumbs tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. You gulp, trying your best to not let out a moan when she presses her knee against your cunt, pulsating and starved for attention. “You want me to go away, Y/n? It sure doesn’t look like it.”

Giselle’s fingers brush your clit through your panties, tracing circles over your hardened bud as if the two of you have all the time in the world. She laughs when you bite your lip so hard it trails a thin amount of blood, tasting the metallic taste as she drinks from you.

“You’re a j-jerk.”

It’s hard to concentrate when Giselle’s absolutely everywhere; she holds your shirt up, laughing to herself once she’s graced with your bare tits, no bra in sight. She pinches and twists your nipples until they’re red and overly sensible, teeth scratching against your neck before she sinks her teeth, sucking until she’s sure it’ll bruise properly.

Content with your hard time on staying collected, she hums. “Tell me more.”

For someone with such a dirty mouth, she sure knows how to work it. Giselle’s fingers tease your wet cunt, barely applying any pressure on your entrance before retreating completely, as she makes good use of your slick to circle your clit.

Her teasing is unexpected; you moan loudly at her touch, desperately pressing yourself onto Giselle so she’ll give you more.

A cocky smirk appears on her lips at your silent plead. For that, you’re rewarded with more pressure against your throbbing clit. Her strokes become quicker, and the knot in your stomach tightens.

“Will you ask for it? Like a good girl?” She asks quietly, pressing wet kisses against your throat.

Her tone is so innocent and caring, as if she’s not fucking you in a cafe’s restroom, clouding your mind with lust for all the wrong reasons.

You don’t give in, although your head falls back as you lean onto her frame, making it easier for Giselle to mark you as she pleases. “Fuck you.”

Giselle laughs. Her fingers leave your cunt, and she’s tapping your mouth before you can even complain about the absence of her touches. “Open.”

Instead of an eager response, the guitarist’s fingers are met with pouty lips, promptly sealed shut. She’s big on the patience game, but your previous encounter with Saerom has clearly affected her: Giselle’s pupils are blown, and her nails scratch every inch she’s able to reach— close to your breasts, on your lower lip, your shoulders, the inside of your thighs… her marks are everywhere. Claiming, owning you.

A reminder of who you belong to.

Giselle rolls her eyes at your resistance, tightening her grip on your neck. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s enough for your breaths to quicken, feeling lightweight once again. She fastens her strokes on your clit, pressing harsher once you don’t do as told.

“You’re so fucking stubborn. Open. Your. Damn. Mouth.” Both of her hands rest on your hips, with a steady grip that makes you whine in frustration.

There aren’t any coherent thoughts in your mind. The only thing you crave is her touch, and for her to not stop until the warmth that is building up on your lower abdomen explodes into a delicious wave of pleasure, like the orgasms she knows so well how to take from you.

“Aeri…” Your voice is barely a murmur, as you rest your forehead on the crook of her neck and plant small, wet kisses to the corner of her mouth, in attempts of coaxing her into giving in.

But you know she’s not going to until you obey. The way your clit pulsates under Giselle’s hand is both delicious and frustrating. It makes your skin boil, so agonizingly hot you open your mouth, swallowing your pride when she pushes 2 of her fingers down your throat.

“That’s it.” Giselle’s praise send a joint of pleasure straight to your cunt, humming in pleasure as you stare at her with big, teary eyes while sucking on her fingers. It burns on your pride, but lust has long clouded your thoughts. “It’s all for you, sweet girl. You just have to stop fighting it. Stop testing us.”

Damn her, for knowing your body so well.

Giselle’s hand leaves your mouth to slide her fingers inside your dripping cunt. You’d be embarrassed by the sounds her thrusts make, gushing so easily from how drenched you are, but you don’t have it inside to care about that anymore. It’s music to her ears. She’s even more cocky know that she’s sure you can’t resist her, despite being so cold and distant over the past weeks.

“Oh fuck, D-don’t stop.” You moan loudly, lost in the pleasure she’s granting you. Once again, you’re glad she’s taking you from behind; this way you don’t have to look at her face. It’s a great excuse, you tell yourself as she shoves her fingers inside your cunt so fast your vision is clouded by black dots.

Despite your inner thoughts, her smirk burns on your back, and she hums contently while pressing small, wet kisses on your back. “Why not? Are you going to cum?”

You don’t have enough strength to return her provocative banter, too lost in pleasure. Whimpering loudly, you nod, rocking against her hand so you’d get even more friction.

Giselle gets the message, curling her fingers deep in your walls as she watches you closely, hitting all of your sweetest spots. You let out another loud moan, lost in the pleasure she’s granting you.

“Do it, Y/n. Just let go.” She commands, watching you closely. “Cum whenever you want. Just like that, pretty. All over my hands, do it.”

You don’t expect her bossy tone to affect you this much, but it does. At the sound of her voice, you reach your peak, making a mess of the girl’s hand as you grab her hand to prevent her from stimulating you any further. Giselle keeps on fingering you, barely moving her fingers while she waits for you to come down from your high.

You take your time rinding down your orgasm, taking deep breaths as you feel tears cripple down your eyes. You’ll have to deal with Giselle the moment you’ve recovered completely, so you avoid it for as long as possible. The girls’ issue with Saerom has always annoyed you, along with the way they disregard your decisions.

Now that you’re ending a cycle in your life, with graduation just around the corner, you can’t help but acknowledge the fact that it’s time to focus on serious things, like focusing on your professional career instead of following the Aespa girls blindly like you’re used to. You have to set boundaries for yourself and move on.

Except you can’t, and it’s eating you alive.

Giselle locks you into place, preventing you from running like you so desperately want to. You adjust your clothes in silence, trying not to be extremely uncomfortable under her piercing stare. Somehow, you feel even more vulnerable than moments ago, when you were moaning and writhing under the girl’s touches.

They’ve always managed to do that to you— drive you crazy while trying to guess what was going on through their heads. Only you didn’t have the time or energy for that anymore.

And she’s so affectionate— they all are, ever since you met them. It wasn’t uncommon for Karina, Minjeong, Giselle or Ningning’s hands to be caught wandering through your spine, or for them to be ogling your tits whenever you were in the tightest crop tops just to be noticed in their shows.

They found you annoying, pushy even. But you don’t mind. Not as long as they keep seeking your touches and demanding your attention.

Then, there’s Giselle, whose mouth would always wander in places she wasn’t supposed to, be it with a brush of her lips on your ears as she claimed the music was too loud for you to hear her, or the knee that somehow was always pressing onto your cunt, whenever you sat on her lap during guitar lessons.

Possessive but soft. Suffocating, yet still caring and attentive. That’s how she was, how the four girls were. You hated how much they were made for you. How addicting their touches were, and how weak you are for them. It no good, and you shouldn’t, but you’d do anything to have them.

“You’re mistaken if you think we’re going to let you, Y/n. Not after all those years.” She tells you, with a serious face as she gives your waist a tight squeeze. “You’re bounded to us by now. So you can forget that Saerom girl. We’re bigger than her in the industry, and I fucking swear we’re going to ruin her and her group’s life for touching what’s ours. Do you understand?”

Her final words seem to snap you out of your high. You roll your eyes, pushing her out of the stall as you rush out of the restroom, gathering your stuff in record time. You fail to see the guitarist running after you as you leave the cozy café, which is a relief.

All you want at the moment is some peace.

Although it was rather clear that luck wasn’t on your side. While you were with Aeri, it had started pouring, the wind ricocheting droplets of water like small needles crippling on your skin. You curse your past self, who had dressed for a warm day, walking even faster when a loud honk prevents you from cursing any further.

You turn around to see Giselle’s Honda Type R following your steps. She’s watching you closely, with her windows rolled over and one hand on the wheel.

“Don’t be too stubborn,” Giselle tells you. Your teeth are clenched and you shiver under your clothes. Her attentive eyes follow your every move, well aware you’re cold; you’ve always been sensitive, after all.

It’s thundering, you don’t have an umbrella and most important— your many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. With a deep sigh, you open the passenger’s seat, sinking into the seat while refusing to pay her as much as a quick look.

The trip to your house is silent. None of you speak, even though Giselle clearly wants to. Her knuckles turn white from the amount of strength she places on the wheel, and it’s her turn to pout, shaking her head in disapproval. Truthfully, the girls know you’re right: they don’t own you. They’ve grown spoiled to having your full adoration for so long they forgot it was a privilege rather than a demand.

It’s something they reflected about, after you abandoned them backstage on their comeback show. About how little they actually knew about you, and how little effort they put into trying to.

Sure, you were aggressive, stubborn and undeniably irritating, but Karina, Giselle, Minjeong and Winter have always corresponded your actions with twice as much fire, no matter how much they complained. They craved it, craved you.

Despite the deadly silence, you arrive home rather quickly. Not a word was exchanged during the trip— Giselle wouldn’t dare apologize, and you’re nearly sure you’d run her over with that fancy car of hers if she tried to provoke you.

You close the Honda’s door so loudly the entire car roars. Still, you don’t mind. More than that: you don’t even pay her a glance, playing into her games a little too much. It’s a simple one: if you look back, you lose.

And you never lose.

So she watches you go, wondering why the distance you’ve placed between you bothers her so much.

#s.writes #sol.writes #aespa angst #aespa smut #aespa imagines #aespa giselle smut #aespa giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader #aeri uchinaga smut #kim minjeong x reader #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #ning yizhuo x reader #ningning x reader #band.au

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thesunloveschips · 27 days ago

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Obsessed - Part 8 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Y/n discovers a few things and a few more are revealed.

Warnings: sex, minors please stay away.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Y/n was upset. Her semester was ending. The exchange programme had come to a close. Now, she’d have to leave for her internship and then go back to her university for the remainder of her studies. She’d miss her friends. She’d miss this new country.

And who knew how long Azriel was posted here in this city?

It was a coincidence that they met and they had a good few months together but Y/n really did not want to go back to a life where he was not a constant.

The idea of it didn’t sit well with her.

After her last exam today, she’d taken some time for her friends here. On her way back to the apartment, she’d started feeling upset but then she wore a smile and rang Azriel’s doorbell.

He’d opened the door, took one look at her, and fucked her wildly like he wanted to reinforce something. And then, they made love to each other with Y/n slowly riding him.

Y/n let herself rise and fall, eyes closed. Her hands were on his chest, tattooed and perfect for her. His large hands nearly covered all of her ass.

Fuck.

He was such a large man and the most convincing evidence of it was deep inside her, thick and throbbing as she rode him at her own pace.

She could feel the air on her body. Her nipples were already hard and were even more sensitive after Azriel had sucked on them and smeared his saliva, and then left them exposed.

Her breasts ached and all she wanted was his large hands to pinch and grab them roughly as if he selfishly owned her.

His hands. Gods, they were so perfect.

The tattoos on his fingers was an arousing sight.

Especially after she’d once seen herself suck them.

The way those hands groped every part of her and were still on her ass.

She was in bed, tired after exams and sex. Azriel had woken up after a nice cuddling session for a meeting. It was an urgent one and he’d promised to return soon but Y/n was not going to pester him even if he didn’t.

The man had a job. That too, at Umbra got fuck’s sake. That was an empire on its own managed by some young fellow Y/n hadn’t bothered about since that was not her field.

Sex with Azriel always made her sleepy and she always woke up feeling refreshed.

Her eyes were closed. The furry blanket was so cosy and she was just there.

Her phone rang and interrupted her peace.

Y/n groaned in frustration. She grabbed it and softened when she saw Azriel’s name. She swiped on the screen and accepted the call. “Hey.”

“Hello, sweetheart. I hope I wasn’t disturbing you.”

“No, no. Tell me.” She wouldn’t tell him that she wanted to sleep even more.

“Could you bring me my iPad? It’s on the nightstand.” Y/n rose and looked around for the device.

“Where. . Got it.” She removed herself from the sheets, ended the call, took the iPad, and was about to walk out of the room when a message popped up.

Miss Y/n’s mother has sent a parcel to the apartment she shared with Nesta Archeron. We believe her mother has no knowledge of her current whereabouts and her exchange program.

What?

Y/n tapped on the notification and the chat opened. It was a group chat with Azriel and a bunch of people. She scrolled and read the messages.

Other members of the group chat were constantly updating on her location and activities while Azriel had sent the occasional ‘okay’.

She also found photographs of her taken from her outings with friends. Taken from a distance and clearly not with her consent.

The more she saw, the more she wanted to smash her head against something.

Why?

Why did Azriel have her followed?

He’d always known where she was, at what time, who she was with. She hadn’t bothered hiding much from him.

Then why was this. . ?

Y/n walked over to the room with the iPad, the group chat open on it.

She saw Azriel’s eyes widen as she entered the room. She placed the iPad on his table. “What’s this?”

He looked at the chat quietly and then looked up at her.

Y/n felt hot with fury coursing through every part of her. And yet, for some strange reason, she felt cold.

It wasn’t until Azriel walked over and wrapped a jacket around her that she realised that she hadn’t dressed after leaving bed.

She’d been naked and angry.

“I’ve had you followed, Y/n.”

And she couldn’t control it.

She was barely restraining herself until then but to hear him say that he had her followed broke the dam.

“Why? Didn’t you trust me enough to go out and not cheat on you?”

This time, Azriel sounded confused. “It wasn’t because I thought you were cheating on me.”

The audacity of this man to say such a thing. He had her watched and followed and photographed and so much more.

“Scroll up, Y/n. This started the night I met you in that club before we ever spoke to each other properly.” He extended the iPad to her.

She hesitantly took it and scrolled up furiously. When she reached the first message, she saw the date the group had been created. Feyre’s birthday. There was a photo of her dancing in that club with Nesta.

Somebody had sent a few documents. She opened them—her CV, biodata, details of people close to her.

“You’ve known all this about me?” He silently nodded. She felt like such a fool.

Y/n couldn’t even think. She couldn’t process it like this. So she simply kept the iPad on his desk and walked away.

“Y/n. Y/n, listen to me, sweetheart.” He was following. She increased her pace and entered his room. Her clothes were on the chair and she began dressing. “Y/n, please. I only wanted to know about you.”

She looked at him and it hurt.

It hurt to know that this man didn’t trust her.

Didn’t trust time.

Didn’t trust their connection.

“I would’ve told you everything with time.” She wanted to cry. “Whenever I was ready to revisit my past and speak about it, I would’ve told you. About my childhood. My ex. My mother.”

“I only wanted to know about you.” He was pleading but she was so tired.

“You did not trust that our relationship would reach to the point where I would ever confide in you. You thought yourself entitled to find everything about me. .” She choked back a sob. Azriel moved to hold her but she took a step behind and he halted.

“You did not trust me.” It was a whisper and it broke everything. “And therefore, you violated my privacy.”

“I did not get that information because I didn’t trust you.” Azriel moved. When he reached her, he kneeled.

“I was impatient. I wanted to know everything about you immediately. I’m desperate for anything you’ll give me. You heart, your body—I cannot have them unless you give them to me. But information—that I can take from any place. And I’ll take any scrap of it you leave behind.”

What was this feeling? She was being broken but also healed at the same time. And even then, everything hurt.

“And as for being followed, I had to know that you were safe.” He was still kneeling. The world was blurry.

Y/n was still cold as she hadn't dressed completely.

She didn’t know anymore.

She didn’t want him to know that she had a troubled past at least until she could help it.

She knew it would’ve come out soon but this soon? It wasn’t at her own pace.

What was she supposed to do?

Should she explain it to Azriel?

Should she be angry at him?

Should she end this relationship?

It was dizzying now. Her breathing was becoming difficult.

She could hear her sniffles, Azriel calling her name. “. . breathe, sweetheart. Inhale. . . Exhale. . .”

He kept telling her to inhale and exhale until she could focus on those words and force her breathing into a pattern.

She was sitting now. Azriel was wiping her nose with something. A blanket was draped over her. He was right there, holding her hand.

Her eyes fluttered close and Y/n faded into the dark.

****

Whispers.

Somebody was talking.

Somebody was responding.

It ached.

Something more than her body ached.

“. . rest and she’ll be. . medicines. . . care.”

Y/n faded away again.

****

Y/n was warm. In a room. It was dark. And a hand held her own.

Azriel was right there, sitting on the floor, one hand holding hers and the other arm folded on the bed to rest his head.

He must’ve fallen asleep.

She tried to rise and felt too weak. But the shuffling of the blankets was enough to wake him up.

“How are you feeling?” His deep voice asked.

“Fine.” She didn’t want to say anything more. Absolutely nothing.

She’d sweat a lot. The greasy feeling of it remained on her body. “You have a fever.”

Oh.

“Have some medicine.” And he rose to leave her side, to get a strip of tablets and water from the nightstand but she did not let go of his hand in the first instance.

“Y/n.” And then she immediately let go and looked away. What was she supposed to do?

Was their bond supposed to be overlooked by this?

Could it be so easily sidelined?

She saw his hand with the medicine come in her line of sight. “Medicine.”

His voice was only deep whispers ever since she woke up. As if he was afraid his normal pitch would shatter something.

Y/n quietly took the medicine and water and consumed them. Azriel was there to take the glass away from her and he kneeled by the bedside.

“You had a panic attack and then you fainted.”

“And the fever?”

“You came to me with the iPad unclothed, leaving your body exposed to the cold. And you didn’t fully dress when you came to the bedroom.” And she was now wearing one of his sweatshirts which was too big for her.

Y/n could tell that he was being careful with his choice of words.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He clutched her hand as though in prayer. “It’s my fault you had a panic attack.”

Damn straight.

Was there any point?

“I need to go.” She knew she sounded weak and pathetic and even if she did go back to her apartment, there was no way she’d be able to take care of herself.

“Please. Rest here until you recover. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“Don’t you understand?” Oh gods, she was going to sob any moment now. Or scream. “If I stay here, even for a single second, I will not get any clarity.”

“As you wish.” Azriel retreated to a distance. Y/n slowly stood up under his gaze.

She remembered that she had only worn her panties and jeans when Azriel had followed her to apologise. So she removed his sweatshirt he had dressed her in.

When the sweatshirt was over her head, leaving her bare, Y/n saw that Azriel had turned away, as if he knew his permit to see her naked had been revoked.

She wore her own clothes and looked around. She grabbed her phone and walked towards the door where he stood with his back towards her.

Upon hearing her footsteps, he moved away, clearing the way for her. Once she began walking, she heard him follow her. She looked behind and saw his imposing figure behind her.

He was in pain.

So much pain.

She could see it.

But so was she.

And Y/n had had enough of ignoring her own pain for others.

But Azriel standing there and following her from behind was a realisation.

That he’d always be there. Behind her if not beside her.

“Call me.” He suddenly said. “If you need anything—medicines, food, anything—just call.”

She wanted to kiss him. So she turned away and left his apartment.

Y/n climbed into her bed, her fluffy blanket, and fell asleep without changing her clothes.

****

Azriel had a mission.

Scratch that, he had two missions.

One, Y/n’s recovery.

Two, Y/n’s forgiveness.

He honestly didn’t understand where she’d gotten the idea that he had her followed to monitor her in case she cheated.

If she did cheat on him, it would be the fault of the fuckwit who thought he could drive a wedge between them.

Azriel would simply dispose of any such menaces and Y/n wouldn’t even know anything.

He sighed.

Her not knowing had not turned out well for him.

He’d flown in his personal doctor in the middle of the night. And while she’d been resting in his apartment, he’d gotten a doctor in the city to check on her.

His doctor was situated in one of the apartments, ready at a moment’s notice.

Azriel kept stock of medicines and food ingredients, just in case she wanted something.

And he waited like a dutiful husband.

And while he waited, he googled up on how he could earn her forgiveness.

The bugs in her apartment began transmitting her sound. She was crying and talking. He heard the name Nesta. And more crying.

She was worried about how this would pan out.

How she’d been an excellent fool by falling for him.

Wait.

Y/n had fallen for him?

Oh.

He shouldn’t be happy considering what happened but he couldn’t help it.

And it was then that Azriel decided that he should probably get rid of those bugs before she saw one or saw something else on his iPad.

He wasn’t going to hide the iPad.

He didn’t like hiding things from Y/n but there were certain things he simply hoped she’d never find.

It was poor thinking but what else could he do?

He was obsessed and his morals clashed and crashed far too often for it to make sense.

As as for how to earn her forgiveness, Y/n’s favourite books had a lot of fictional men grovelling after fucking up.

He needed to analyse everything.

What exactly was she hurt about.

What could he do to stop her hurt?

How to make amends.

How to convince her that he was not a complete piece of shit and was worth some consideration of forgiveness.

Her safety had been an important concern.

If Y/n knew the number of people that had started following her while she went out on her own.

The number of people that had been beaten up so that she could roam around outside without anything to fear.

The number of phone numbers he’d looked into after any call that made her uncomfortable. He had them all deactivated.

No.

Her safety was an important matter that needed his attention.

It was not a bargaining chip to win an argument or to prove a point.

It was simply his duty.

But how was he going to convince her that he hadn’t worried about her cheating?

That he was only endlessly and ravenously curious about her ever since he first saw her?

Azriel sighed. He needed advice. He picked up his phone and called the one person he trusted enough with such a matter. When the call was answered, he began. “Hello, mum.”

****

Taglist:

@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten @mortqlprojections @tele86 @rorel1a @red0202 @atomictyphoonkitten @colorfulgardenerduck @scarsandallaz @anonymousdisco @rcarbo1 @workof-a-rr-t @fuckingsimp4azriel @isabella13dusk @donnadiddadog @yannnnooooxoxox-blog @nxgh1 @thedeviltohisangel @katherinebright @fandomtrash5092 @epicsweetness712 @anik-4 @hitsxbikbv @julesvanslutta @fae-dreamer-99 @cartonkid1200 @anainkandpaper @yourwonderbelle @stefbroo @imjustagirl713 @bbykaixx @lilah-asteria

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roseykat · 1 year ago

Text

TITLE: Play Right

SUMMARY: The aftermath of the events that occurred at Hyunjin's apartment begins to unravel and sprout into things that are unsuspecting of Hyunjin and Jisung. While Jisung is under the disturbance of a text message he sent to Chan from your phone, he decides to turn to his friends to spill the beans.

TAGS: porn with plot, solo male masturbation, ruined orgasm, swearing, handjobs, soft moments, depictions of sexual intercourse, kissing, cum eating, orgasms, mainly m x m themes, alcohol is consumed (but nobody is drunk)

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

PART 1 + PART 2 - MASTERLIST

🏷️LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @groovygroovyhyunjin @valibals @oiikaro @/itsthatbri @leftkittenface @/20minsat180degrees (if you want to be removed from the taglist going forward with this series, lmk!)

A/N: listened to Cigarettes out the window by TV Girl when I wrote most of this.

DISCLAIMER: before you read, this is a series so things are building up. There is a plot, so whilst this isn’t reader x member heavy based as the rest of the parts so far, that doesn’t mean to say that it won’t be in the future. Reader and Chan will get their time, don't worry, just want things to develop. This piece is more Jisung and Hyunjin focused iykwim x

“The weather forecast for the upcoming week is predicted to be hotter than usual-“

“Ngh- fuck, right there...”

“-with temperatures expected to rise above thirty degrees. Weather Watch is also alerting citizens-“

“S-So good, baby…Y/N…”

“-in the city to prepare for the possibility of yet another monsoon-“

“Gonna…cum, gonna cum so hard for you…just like that…”

“-other regions of the outer city should also expect showers and hot temperatures-“

“Fuck’s sake!”

With an angry groan and grumble, Hyunjin’s right hand stills over his slick, hard cock. His other hand yanks a pillow from his side and pelts it straight at his door to slam it right shut. Pathetic white strings of cum shot from his dark pink tip and land on his abdomen, some as far as his shirt that he had pulled up to his chest to avoid staining it.

It’s been impossible for him to jerk off while the six o’clock weather is playing in the background from his lounge. The talk of monsoons and hot weather threatens the disappearance of the mental images he has of you in his brain, used as vital motivation to get himself off - a recurring activity that has been happening for the past two weeks.

Summer doesn’t make it any better either. His body is sticky, sweat beading over his forehead from the disgusting, muggy heat that rivals the air con blowing throughout his apartment. Then the rain that lashes harshly at his windows is enough to drown out his own moans. It was a useless feat, just as useless as his own ruined orgasm that now put him in a bad mood. He had to satisfy his needs somehow.

Instead of turning to porn, Hyunjin had something even better; you. The vivid images of his cock plunging fluidly into your wet pussy. The erotic sounds he extracted out of you with each thrust, that is when you weren’t choking on Jisung’s dick. He just wishes he could’ve seen your face when he made you cum.

Hyunjin sighs and presses his head back into the pillow. Before he gets to think about jumping in the shower, his phone rings from the nightstand. He picks up the device to see a very flattering drunk photo of Changbin appear on his screen.

Hyunjin answers, “hey.”

“Hyunjin, what are you doing right now?” Changbin asks.

“Watching the news,” he sniffs, he might as well have been watching the news.

“Boring. Did you not see the group chat messages?”

“No, not yet. Why is something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong. Minho booked a table for hot pot and barbecue tonight. Figured you weren’t doing anything important so we’re all meeting up in half an hour,” Changbin explains.

Barbecue and hot pot sounded nice. Surely it’ll be a method to dry out Hyunjin’s damp mood a little bit. That and a cold shower to freshen up.

“Okay, yeah sounds good. Can you text me the details then?”

As Hyunjin hung up and decided to start getting ready, it dawned on him that he hadn’t seen his friends in a couple of weeks, with a strong reference to you and Jisung. You had both been active in the group chat so he didn’t necessarily feel awkward about seeing the guy he had a threesome with. As for you, he really doesn’t know.

You’re sweeter and easy to be around. Something about that just turns the entire situation on its head. Not that Jisung isn’t sweet or easy to be around in Hyunjin’s opinion, with you it’s different. Although, as he’s been mulling over the past couple of weeks, he’s discovered a few things about himself and Jisung.

Dressing according to the weather, Hyunjin takes his umbrella with him on his way out in the hopes the rain won’t continue when he leaves the restaurant later on. After receiving the address from Changbin, thankfully just one subway stop away, Hyunjin heads off into the downfall and arrives fifteen minutes later.

He was wrong to assume that he wasn’t going to feel awkward around Jisung, and now as he spots him at the table, engaging in a riveting conversation with Jeongin, all he feels is awkwardness. He waves out to him from down the way, ushering him to come over, lulling Hyunjin out of his own mind for a minute.

“Hyunjin!” Jeongin called out cheerily, patting a spot beside him to come and sit.

“Already started drinking Innie?” Hyunjin slings his arm around his younger friend's shoulder.

“I couldn’t wait, sorry,” he responds and pours Hyunjin a shot of his soju. “Long day.”

“Did you eat before?”

“Not since lunch,” he replies.

Hyunjin shakes his head and warns, “Innie, you know it’s bad to drink on an empty stomach, right?”

Jeongin shrugs, “like I said, long day.”

Hyunjin picks up his shot glass, downing it in one go before setting the glass back down on the surface again. As he does, his eyes meet Jisung’s who stares intently at him from across the table. He shoots a cheeky wink at Hyunjin, forcing a deep red blush to emerge through his cheeks.

Hyunjin knew what that meant.

Suddenly his mind races back to that night at his apartment; making out with Jisung, remembering suddenly the thought of what sort of tricks that mouth of his possesses, watching you suck him dry. He wasn’t going to be forgetting it any time soon, not when it fuels his jack off sessions at home.

After the few lingering moments where the pair were still locking eyes, more of their friends started to show up. Seungmin was accompanied by his new girlfriend, glued to his hip who greeted everyone shyly. Hyunjin hadn’t actually properly met her, let alone talked to her yet, but she seemed nice. Once they had taken a seat on their cushions, Changbin rolled in with Felix and Minho in tow who was stuffing his keys into the pocket of his pants.

“You guys are here early,” he says with surprise.

“You were the one who organised it,” Jisung pointed out.

“That I did,” Minho nods, sitting down with everyone else.

Felix groans as he flops next to Changbin, “I’m hungry, it's not even funny.”

As everyone settled down, trays of fresh veggies, assortments of meat, and other items were brought to their table for them to cook. Minho decided to get started on grilling while Seungmin opted to bring the hot pot on the table to a boil. The smell of the food made Hyunjin almost forget why he was slightly nervous about going out in the first place.

He got back to talking with Jeongin, asking him how work has been treating him, what he’s been up to since they last saw each other, and even planned a time to hang out in the future.

“What about you, Jisung?” Jeongin asks with a mouthful of bossam. “Haven’t seen you in ages. Been up to anything interesting these days?”

Jisung finishes slurping up some of the rice noodles Felix had cooked for him from the hot pot, “here and there. Mainly just working now.”

“Ah,” Jeongin nods in understanding. “You always work so much. No wonder why it’s hard for you to hang out with us sometimes.”

That’s when it hits Jisung, causing him to pause and realise that something isn’t right. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realise it when it’s right there in plain sight.

“Where is Y/N and Chan?” He questions.

“Mm! Gonna…gonna cum all over your cock, wanna cum for you so bad,” you strain out. “Makes me feel so fucking good.”

Chan looks up at you, a deranged and desperate expression paints his face as you ride his dick, “don’t stop riding me then. Need to see that pretty pussy cum all over me.”

Minho flips over pieces of meat on the grill, “Chan is out of the city with his family at the moment. They flew in a few days ago.”

“You’re creaming so much around me baby,” Chan growls, nails digging painfully into the skin over your hips. “This pussy is all mine.”

“And Y/N’s still at work,” Minho continues, plating some of the veggies he had been charring on the side too.

Moans erupt from your chest, projecting out into Chan’s lounge, “C-Channie, so good, make me cum, please-“

Jisung nods. It’s not suspicious at all to him that neither of you are here. The two people to an unwanted jigsaw puzzle that he had been piecing together just so happened to be ‘missing.’ Of course, none of the other guys truly knew why. At least he doesn’t think.

Maybe you two really are in separate locations - not that he believes it. The one thing he knows for absolute sure to be the cold, hard truth, is that you and Chan are most definitely seeing each other casually - fucking behind everyone’s backs. Then again, so did he and Hyunjin in some sense.

Nonetheless, for the past couple of weeks, Jisung was storing that message he received on your phone from Chan in the back of his mind. It affirms a glimmer of a suspicion that Jisung held about Chan previously; that he was seeing someone.

“Well, that just confirms everything then,” Jisung mutters under his breath, concluding his answer there and then in his mind.

“Confirms what?” Minho questions, his hawk grade hearing picking up on his undertone.

“Nothing, just a theory that I have,” he says smartly. “I was just thinking about it and...”

“And what?” Minho presses.

“And whether I should be sharing it or not,” he replies, unsure of his own answer.

“Well you have to now since you brought it up,” Felix exclaims.

“It’s nothing,” Jisung brushes it off, making everyone at the table wonder what the hell he’s on about.

“Nah, it has to be something,” Seungmin shakes his head and begins wondering what it is. “If it wasn’t important, he’d just say it. But he’s not.”

Is it even Jisung’s place to tell everyone? No. Should he still do it? No. But that’s what friends do. They talk and speculate about who they think are the perfect matches in the group or who out of everyone would marry if they had no other option. Topics as such.

In this case, it’s whether you and Chan are sleeping together or not, which Jisung already has the answer to. Whether he decides to tell the truth would just be speculation to the others since they never saw what Jisung did. They can decide to believe it or not.

However, does he trust his friends with the truth and to not say anything? Without a shadow of a doubt. So with that sliver of comfort in his mind that makes him think he’s not doing the wrong thing, Jisung chooses to divulge.

“Y/N and Chan are fucking.”

Everyone’s heads at the table fixes onto Jisung. Not a single mouth moved out of surprise as the silence threads its way around. It makes him feel terribly awkward.

This is news to everyone, particularly to the person sitting opposite him; Hyunjin. Someone who, upon hearing what just came out of Jisung’s mouth, didn’t believe it for a second - did not want to believe it.

“You’re lying,” Seungmin accuses immediately from the other end of the table.

“That’s your theory?” Changbin questions. “That Chan and Y/N are together?”

“Not together, together,” Jisung makes haste to correct him. “I just have reason to believe that they’re seeing each other casually is all.”

“I don’t believe you,” Seungmin responds, letting his strong opinion be known. “What is that reason anyway?”

“I swear on everyone I know, I saw a text message proving it on her phone,” Jisung mentions before his blood starts running cold. He almost gave away more than he should’ve.

Without context of the night in question, none of them know. Not even Hyunjin, who was a third party to it all, didn’t exactly know. He can only guess if what Jisung is referring to is the dirty text message that was sent off of your phone to Chan during the game of truth or dad. Then again, it’s not a thought that he even remotely considers when his mind has been stuck on the fact that you and Chan are potentially hooking up.

“What the hell are you going through her phone for?” Felix asks defensively.

“Yeah, that’s not okay,” Jeongin adds.

“N-No! I wasn’t going through her phone, I just…saw them, by accident,” he responds out of desperation.

He doesn’t want to disclose that night to his friends. Sure they’re all mates and share everything with each other, but that’s just Jisung. Hyunjin keeps aspects of his life relatively private and Jisung is sure that you wouldn’t appreciate him going around telling everyone what happened. But at that thought, he starts second guessing himself and what he just did. If he thinks you wouldn’t be okay with him sharing information about that night, how is it any different from him saying the same thing about you and Chan?

It doesn’t take long for Jisung to feel regret and guilt for ever bringing it up.

“Even if they are, who cares? Good for them, and if they start going out - even better. Y/N’s a massive upgrade from that chick he was seeing before,” Minho explains.

“That’s probably why they’re messing around,” Felix theorises.

“I still don’t reckon they are,” Seungmin puts in his opinion again.

“Why?” Felix asks.

“I just don’t see it,” he shrugs. “Chan seems like the type of person who wouldn’t sleep around because he only wants to be with someone that he really, really likes.”

Those words do not sit well with Hyunjin.

“And Chan told you that himself, did he?” Minho snickers. “If that’s your reasoning, then it sounds like they’re already going out.”

Hyunjin and Jisung’s eyes immediately lock onto each other in horror.

“I don’t know if you heard the word ‘seems’ in my sentence, implying that I’m only guessing but okay,” Seungmin bites back, earning him a finger flick to his arm by Jeongin for talking back like that to their older friend.

“Ten bucks that they are,” Minho says on a different topic. “Ten bucks that they aren’t,” Seungmin counters.

“A-Are you saying that none of you believe me?” Jisung whines.

“We’re saying that we don’t have enough evidence – any of us, not just you since you bought up the topic,” Minho replies.

“What about tonight? Neither of them are here, where do you think they might be?” Jisung attempts to raise a good point, but Changbin spots the obvious loopholes.

“We already told you. Chan isn’t even in the city since he’s spending time with his family, and Y/N’s still at work,” he answers. “And we know that because Chan messaged the group chat to tell us that he wasn’t going to be coming to dinner and we know Y/N doesn’t finish until six thirty.”

“They could be lying,” Jeongin conspires.

“That’s only for tonight though. I know he’s been acting shady lately so I reckon he is,” Felix announces.

“Hyunjin?” Changbin pokes him in the arm, trying to prod an answer out of him.

He responds quietly but honestly, “I-I don’t think they are.”

“That settles it then,” Minho begins instigating once more. “Two of you bet that they aren’t and the rest of us bet that they are.”

“We are not betting on our friends right now,” Jisung tries to calm the masses.

“Mm! How about losers have to pay for a day of food when we go to Jeju?” Jeongin suggests.

The majority of the table begins to erupt in agreement, making it impossible for Jisung to rewrite something he just initiated. Everyone immediately starts talking details about what food they would request if they won the bet, then would eventually return to the topic of you and Chan.

Hyunjin didn’t really want to hear another word of it. Instead, he pours himself another shot of Jeongin’s soju in the hopes his thoughts about the situation start to melt. Until he gets to that stage, it’s easy for him to wallow in his feelings. A selfish part of him wants whatever connection there is between you and Chan to falter to the point of no return. Then the other half scolds his mind for wishing such a misfortune on his friend.

But nobody knew. Nobody knew that Hyunjin had feelings for you nor did he want anyone to know. He’d rather die than tell someone he likes them for fear that they won’t like him the way he does. It’s almost like he’s saving himself from the pain and hopes that it’ll pass. However, there was also ‘instigator number two’ sitting across from him who had been making regular appearances in his brain since that night. Hyunjin doesn’t know what it means, if it even means anything for that matter.

So by the end of the dinner, everyone had their bets placed.

The whole lot of them lingered outside the restaurant after some filling meals as some of the others waited for their rides back home. All aside from Felix and Jeongin who decided to go bar hopping for more drinks. Changbin and Seungmin were laughing away at something they were discussing while Minho was chatting to his friend's new girlfriend. Hyunjin on the other hand stood away from them, up against the wall of the building as he scrolls aimlessly on his phone.

“Hey,” says Jisung, emerging from the restaurant.

Hyunjin turns to his friend, realising it’s the first time they’ve directly spoken to each other in a while, “hi.”

“You know it feels like I haven’t seen you since-“

“That’s because you haven’t, Jisung,” he cuts him off sharply, having already foreseen what Jisung was about to say after the word ‘since.’

He smiles sheepishly, “right. So, what are your plans now?”

Hyunjin doesn’t think and shrugs, “gonna go home, paint, watch TV or something.”

“Cool. I’m coming with you.”

Hyunjin didn’t have any say in the matter. Jisung was going to follow him home like his own shadow whether he liked it or not. It dismissed Hyunjin from grovelling in his feelings and mind after hearing the situation between you and Chan. One half of his heart yearned to cry while the other wanted to punch Chan in the ribs. He doesn’t know. He’s conflicted. But they are aspects that remain undetected to Jisung as they sat next to each other quietly on the subway back to his home.

The pair walked under Hyunjin’s umbrella for a few hundred metres until they were under the shelter of the apartment complex. He doesn’t mind accommodating people at his place since he spends the majority of his time in voluntary solitude. It allows him to fully recuperate from social settings in order to go out again. This time, with less company, it’s still equally welcoming. So after Hyunjin unlocks his front door for both of them enter, take off their shoes, and store them neatly.

“Ah~” Jisung sighs with relief, stretching out his arms and stands right underneath a device mounted to the top of the wall. “Air con!”

“Don’t you have one? I thought you did,” Hyunjin mistakenly thought.

“It broke,” he mumbles, revelling in the cold artificial breeze. “Been waiting three weeks for it to be fixed.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything after that. He lets Jisung do whatever he wants while he heads into his room to change from his clothes to a black tank top and a pair of shorts. In his spare room that he’s been slowly transitioning to an art space, he goes in and collects some of his unfinished art, paints, and brushes. After, he returns to the lounge, he sets everything down on the coffee table and pulls up some floor cushions for him and Jisung to sit on.

“Oh, tangerines,” he suddenly remembers as his eyes clock onto the silver fruit bowl on his kitchen counter while Jisung takes his jacket off and hangs it up.

“Tangerines? In summer?” Jisung asks as he goes to sit down.

Hyunjin places the bowl of the fruit between him and his friend as he lowers down too, “why not? I got them fresh from the market the other day.”

“I can only eat them in the winter.”

“Alright then,” Hyunjin shrugs and starts peeling one for himself as Jisung reaches for the remote and turns on the TV.

For a while, they sit together. Hyunjin switches between picking up his paintbrush and pieces of fruit whereas Jisung’s eyes are glued to some hot drama playing across the screen. It’s nice to just be in the same room with someone and to not have a full on conversation that ends up being draining on their social batteries. Both of them are the perfect introverts for thriving in those types of environments. A peaceful comfort.

Time seems to pass in their space as Jisung nears the end of the episode and Hyunjin is rounding off one area of his painting. By that time, Hyunjin had eaten five tangerines then opted to bring some more. He offered to Jisung if he wanted something else to eat or drink, but the man was so hooked on this drama that he didn't even hear Hyunjin ask.

He found it…slightly…endearing. Just a bit. But then he went back to his work and all was forgotten until Jisung finally started speaking again.

“Hyunjin,” he starts in a low voice, still staring at the screen.

“Hmm?”

“Are we gonna talk about the other night?” Jisung mentions.

His hand freezes over his canvas, a small dollop of paint drips from the end of his brush and onto his work. Hyunjin wasn’t exactly expecting to hear that question, yet at the same time, he should’ve seen it coming.

“W-What about it?” He responds awkwardly.

Jisung leans back, both of his hands propping him up from behind as he looks up to the ceiling, “the fact that we kissed, well… made out mainly.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, unsure of what to actually ask him here. “Do you…regret it?”

“No! No way!” Jisung exclaims rather quickly before he calms down. “No, I don’t. In fact…it was…actually really good.”

In the back of Hyunjin’s mind, he can almost predict what’s about to happen. Jisung wouldn’t have brought up the subject unless it was really affecting him - unless he was dying to get it off his chest. Otherwise he would’ve let it simmer down, but taking into account that it had been two weeks and he wants to unpack everything, there was clearly something irking him in a way that only Hyunjin seems to understand.

“You looked…good that night,” he adds then corrects himself. “You do look good.”

Hyunjin peers up from his work. What’s he supposed to say to that? Is he supposed to divulge the fact that he thinks the same of Jisung? He doesn’t even know entirely what he feels, having just accepted that he slept with his two friends and sort of went on with life.

“What did you follow me back to my apartment for?” Hyunjin gets straight to the point.

His friend sits back up and looks him dead in the eye, “let’s just say I didn’t follow you back to eat some fruit and watch TV.”

“Then what?” Hyunjin urges impatiently even though his and Jisung’s faces slowly draw towards each other.

Jisung’s eyes drop down to Hyunjin’s lips, and says in a quiet voice, “because I wanted to kiss you again.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know when, but it happened. One second he had his gaze set on Jisung’s soft expression and the next his eyes were closed, allowing his brain to focus on what’s physically happening. Their lips meet for the second time since the first, this time a little slower and tender.

As the TV plays in the background, all the two of them can hear is the sound of their mouths moving - breaking apart for a couple of moments even though their noses still touch, tilting their heads in different directions to see what’s the better angle.

The sweet, citrine aftertaste of tangerine lingers in Hyunjin’s mouth, a pleasure to savour when Jisung is able to explore it with his tongue. In Hyunjin’s left hand, the paintbrush slips from his grip, its tip smearing more paint onto his work. But there is a great distance between him and being bothered about it. He worries more about the reaction, that after minutes of kissing, stirs in his pants when Jisung’s hand finds its way onto his lap, barely caressing his thigh. His cock has started filling out.

He doesn’t notice it until slowly yet surely, Jisung’s hand inches closer to the ever growing, obvious bulge in his friend's shorts. The second he makes contact with Hyunjin’s clothed dick, a moan shoots through from his mouth and into Jisung’s. He pulls away for a second, staring at his lips.

“You really are a good kisser,” Jisung breathes.

“Jisung…” Hyunjin struggles, his forehead comes to rest against Jisung’s as he stares down at his hand. It palms slowly, agonisingly slow.

“You’re so hard for-“

He cups Jisung’s mouth before he can complete the rest of his sentence, “shut up, I know,” he cuts him off bitterly.

A chuckle reverberates through his hand as Jisung takes it away but decides to continue holding it, “let me help you then.”

It’s not difficult for him to read the room. He knows what Hyunjin wants and how obvious it is that he needs it. His cock silently screams for touch, to be relieved. So at the perfect moment, Jisung reaches into Hyunjin’s shorts and past his boxes.

A quiet hiss issues from his mouth when the entire length of his dick is free from restriction. His cock is beautiful. Jisung never managed to get a good look at it since it was either in your mouth or drilling your pussy from behind.

Jisung licks his way into Hyunjin’s mouth, his tongue dancing across his plush bottom lip before he breaks away for a moment. Excitement surges through him now that he finally gets to feel what he’s been wanting to since that night two weeks ago. He stares down at Hyunjin’s cock, pre-cum beads at the tip, some had already leaked down his length.

For Jisung to have him so aroused, so desperate for touch, proves the effect his friend has on him that he suspected was present. Hyunjin had an inkling of it when you all slept together, but nothing other than that. A pang of realisation maybe, that his friend was attractive and alluring in a sense, and it was obvious that Jisung felt the same.

He takes a soft hold of the top of Hyunjin’s cock, the pad of his index finger swiping over his tip and pulling away. He watches the thick string of glimmering pre-cum connect him and Hyunjin, forcing a wave of embarrassment to come crushing over him. It wasn’t embarrassing to Jisung. It was hot. So fucking hot.

Seeing the impact of his own actions on Hyunjin’s body gave him a sense of power so to speak. It made him want to see more as he started tugging gently at his dick. He trusted that Hyunjin’s pre-cum would act almost as a lube, and sure enough with more strokes, his cock was sticky with it. Nothing but slick sounds and tiny, barely there whimpers from Hyunjin’s mouth fill his lounge, drowning out the next episode of the drama that was still playing.

“Mm…it…mmm.”

“Don’t be shy Hyunjinnie,” Jisung prompts him to become more vocal, to express what he’s feeling however he wants. “We’re friends, since when have you ever been quiet around me?”

Hyunjin replies breathlessly, “friends…d-don’t get each other off.”

“Hey, you haven’t gotten me off yet,” Jisung reminds him.

Yet.

In his mind that starts to slip through his fingers like sand, Hyunjin was no longer able to tell if that was an empty possibility or a very real chance of it happening. For the time being, he chooses to focus on pleasure. The satisfaction of having something wrapped around his cock to relieve him, and the divine pressure that begins to store at the base of his cock from Jisung’s long strokes.

“Feel good?” He asks.

The question alone is enough to make Hyunjin lower his head and close his eyes, too shy to meet Jisung’s ardent gaze. Instead, he gives an affirming nod.

“Good,” Jisung mumbles quietly, then finds Hyunjin’s lips once more with his own to kiss him.

God he can’t stop kissing him.

The way they melt into each other is almost like they’ve done this a hundred times prior. Jisung tugs and strokes Hyunjin’s length so attentively, greedily drawing out every single reaction he can possibly get. The hushed moans that transmit from his mouth as Jisung’s tongue moves lazily to explore. Very abruptly however, Hyunjin breaks away from the kiss.

“G-Gonna make me cum,” he swallows hard.

Jisung’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head just hearing that. To him, those words are not only a specific type of praise or reward, but it’s coupled with the way that Hyunjin sounds right in his ear. His tense, high pitched whimpers become more frequent and stressed as Jisung has been building him up to the height of his orgasm.

“Cum for me then,” Jisung whispers to him.

Suddenly, the air snags inside Hyunjin’s throat. His head drops and all the attention gravitates towards his cock, shivering as he starts to orgasm.

“Ngh - ‘sung…cumming,” he strains out, breathing deeply but staggered.

Jisung catches his seed in the cupped palm of his hand as he manages to stroke the tip of his length at the same time. He looked so beautiful when his mind and body writhe under his touch. Hyunjin’s moans complete the satisfaction Jisung feels to have unravelled his best friend like that. To see ribbons of his white warm cum in hand makes him struggle against the unhinged part of his brain that needs to taste it for himself. He can’t help it when the base of his palm reaches his mouth-

But it doesn’t stop Hyunjin’s face from twisting and screwing into an expression of revolt.

“Jisung,” he says with a tone of warning.

He hastily tucks himself back into his clothes, springs up from the coffee table and heads to the kitchen to grab a paper towel. After soaking it a little bit in some warm water from under the tap, he returns to Jisung and cleans his hand. Hyunjin didn’t want to make a note of the fact that most of Jisung’s palm was covered in cum and when he returned, it was almost like it was never there. Still, he did him the decency of helping clean him up.

“Maybe wash your hand too,” he suggests with a concerned look still clouding his face.

“Don’t look so offended, Hyunjin,” Jisung chuckles airly. “You taste good.”

“Shut up, please,” is all he can come back with, then looks up to not only see that cocky, arrogant grin of Jisung’s but to also notice that there’s still a trace of his cum smeared a little bit on his bottom lip. Hyunjin reaches towards his friend’s face, thumbing the excess away.

“Don’t waste anything,” Jisung scolds him.

“Alright,” he rolls his eyes, done with the mortifying humiliation and stands up again to return to the kitchen with the dirty paper towel to chuck it away.

“Wait, come back! Kiss me one more time and I swear I’ll stop embarrassing you!” he calls out to him.

Hyunjin stops listening to Jisung and all the whiny complaints he propels from the coffee table. Instead, something else suddenly occupies his attention. The one thing that threatens to unbalance his mood once more.

“Jisung,” Hyunjin says. “Is it true? About Y/N and Chan?”

“Huh?” He answers, “Oh, yeah. It is.”

Hyunjin’s gaze falls to the floor. That answers that then.

Jisung then continues, “I didn’t want to mention how I saw the message though. If I did, it might’ve put you and Y/N in the spotlight about that night we had when you probably didn’t want to. Plus, they’re like jackals. They would’ve torn you to shreds just to get an answer.”

Hyunjin nods, appreciative of his friend's move, “thanks. But should you have told them about Y/N and Chan anyway?”

Jisung did realise at one stage that he told their friends about you and Chan, but didn’t apply that same energy towards bringing up himself, you, and Hyunjin. There wasn’t that much of a difference when he looks at it now since he’s also messed around with you both, similar to the way Chan is currently messing around with you.

But Jisung knows for a fact that he didn’t bring it up because he wanted to save his own skin or divert any suspicion or attention away from himself. It was just so scandalous to find out that the two least suspecting people on his radar of who in the group would be fucking, is you and Chan.

“They said they weren’t going to say anything,” Jisung responds. “I trust them that much, not that I should be making a big deal about it, but I want to go see Chan. I know that they’re not, but I want to make sure that they aren’t actually dating, otherwise-“

“We’d have to tell him,” says Hyunjin.

“Exactly,” Jisung agrees. “Again, I don’t think that’s the case. Chan said so himself that he’s done with dating and relationships, and I trust that wholeheartedly too.”

Hyunjin gives a nod and decides to hold out onto hope. Hope that you’re not seeing him and that it’s just something that turns out to be a stupid rumour. In the meantime, he needs to figure out his feelings.

Too tired to make the commute back to his own place, Jisung ended up staying the night at Hyunjin’s. He could’ve well and truly slept on the couch but for what it was worth, he was invited to sleep in Hyunjin’s bed. It’s not like they’ve never slept next to each other. But for some reason, it means something a bit more. Something hazy that exists in a twilight zone that Hyunjin only hopes clears up so he can decipher what he feels towards Jisung.

The thought floats around in his mind before he drifts off, sleeping comfortably, only to wake up the next morning tangled in each other’s arms.

Neither of them were bothered about it.

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